I Got Tagged

My friend (perhaps one of my "coolest" friends) Kami tagged me on Facebook, and because it took me forever to do it, I thought I'd be resourceful and make it my blog posting for today as well. I've been commanded to write 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about myself so here goes:

1. I'm terrified of lakes with tree stumps. You know the ones. You're driving over a bridge, you gaze out on the water to soak in God's creation and then you spot them - gnarly, gray, death stumps towering out of the water! Clusters of them - everywhere! That's no lake, friends. That's the devil's playground.

2. I take a bath nearly everyday, in addition to a shower. There is nothing more peaceful, more calming, more therapeutic than a hot bubble bath. Add a book and it might as well be heaven. (my dogs hate it when I take a bath because I close the door. Sometimes, when the door doesn't catch, Dixie will burst through like a bulldozer, glare at me for a moment or two, and then walk right back out. If she could talk she would say, "This is my house. I want the door OPEN.) Bear on the other hand thinks that if the bathroom door isn't completely open, he's physically unable to walk through it. Yesterday he stared at me for 5 minutes from behind a half opened door. I kept calling him and he looked at me like, "You can SEE me?")

3. I'm a lazy perfectionist. I see things as they should be. I want things as they should be. But I'm too much of a realist to make the effort. One side craves perfection in all things. The other says, "Why bother?" The result is usually something bordering on normal.

4. I don't just love New York City. I want to marry it. One day Sid and I will live there. I feel it in my bones. (I think Sid feels it too.) I just discovered that my ancestors on my father's side all lived in Manhattan. Somehow this makes me more in love with it.

5. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

6. I'm ashamed that I feel more emotion and more outrage over an abused animal than I do an abused human being.

7. I wrote my first story about a crazed witch who was so mean to her friends that one finally killed her. When he couldn't take the sorrow of being alone and friendless, he brought the witch back to life and they lived happily ever after. I was 6 and we still, to this day, laugh about "Frankie." (sidenote: I had a stuffed dog named Frankie that must've been my muse. He was pretty cool - overalls, a dog bone in his pocket, didn't take any crap from the other stuffed animals.)

8. I've only had my heart truly broken once (this does not include heart cracks) - by a boy at the end of my senior year of highschool. I met Sid a few days later. Sid has never broken my heart.

9. I've never felt more alone than I did freshman year of college.

10. I made a very important, emotional wish on a star when I was a child. God must've heard it as a prayer and he answered it.

11. I am a worry wart. Always have been, even as a child. My mom used to read me the Sweet Pickles book about Worry Walrus, I think because she thought it would cure me. It didn't. Once a worry wart, always a worry wart.

12. No place on earth is more sacred to me than Bandera, Texas.

13. I sometimes have daymares, where my mind starts imagining horrible things while I'm wide awake. I used to think this made me a freak but now I think it just means I have a vivid imagination.

14. When I was 3 or 4, I slept in my Mom's room almost every night. I heard a noise, woke her up and she mumbled, "Oh, it's probably just robbers." She swears now that she must've been having a sarcastic moment in her sleep, but when she said "robber" I imagined robots and I vividly remember picturing some weird solid black version of C-3PO from Star Wars rummaging through the house. Terrifying!

15. I have 4 dental implants because some of my adult teeth didn't exist. The baby teeth fell out and there was nothing there to replace them. My dentist once told me this was because I'm "genetically advanced." I've felt superior ever since.

16. I despise Corvettes.

17. I think my husband is a genius. Seriously. There is nothing he can't do. He sees all things mechanically and his mind is always processing things a billion times a second. He honestly thought everyone was like that until I assured him that was NOT the case. This made me love him more. He has no idea how special he is.

18. Even though my mom once screamed, "We're all going to die up here!" when we got stuck on a GUIDED snowmobile tour, I still think she's brave.

19. I've always been really proud to have my Papaw's Jewish heritage as a part of me, even though I'm a Christian, and one of my biggest regrets is losing my Mamaw before I knew what an unbelievable woman she was.

20. I have recurring dreams about tornadoes.

21. I was ridiculously terrified of stingrays growing up, I guess because my parents would tell me to shuffle my feet when swimming at the beach to scare them away and I pictured them swimming by my feet waiting to strike at any moment. You know the exhibits they have at the aquariums, where the stingrays swim around and all the kids stick their little hands in and pet them? Nope, I wouldn't do it. My fears were justified when Steve Irwin got stabbed in the heart by one of those evil beasts, but last spring, I conquered my fear and SWAM with them at Sting Ray City in the Caymans, even held one! I was terrified and exhilarated and it was the highlight of the entire vacation.

22. I rarely drink, but when I do, my drink of choice is a martini.

23. I once swam a lap in an ice cold swimming pool for $5. I was an idiot.

24. I make it a habit to skip movies that have dogs in them. As a general rule, movies with dogs are sad. I refuse to see Marley & Me for this reason.

25. Over the years, I've learned that "let it go" is the best advise you can give anyone, including myself.

Sigh

We added a new phone line at the house for Sid's home office. In a flash of brilliance, we asked AT&T to transfer the DSL to the NEW phone line so that all the office charges would be together on one bill. That way, Sid's new company could pay the bill direct instead of Sid having to submit a reimbursement form each and every month. So, the phone line gets installed and a few hours later the unspeakable happens - NO INTERNET! I call AT&T and the sweet lady informs me that my order to cancel the DSL on the OLD line went through without a hitch. The order to transfer DSL to the NEW line? Well, it was canceled in some giant computer glitch and angry customers were flooding their phone banks and it was complete and utter maddness on her end of the line. My girl - a beakon of hope in the raging storm of chaos - says she'll give me a $25 discount on my bill for my "pain and suffering," and she'll give us free dial up until the DSL is up and running the following Monday.

Guess what yesterday was? Monday. Did I have my DSL "up and running?" No. At about 9pm last night, the wireless router was no longer flashing red - a good sign. I log on to the network and an error page pops up, "AT&T has found a problem with your internet (really, Sherlock? You just figured that out?)," with a phone number to call "24 a day, 7 days a week." Great! I call, go through the obnoxious voice recognition system and five minutes later, "Our office is closed." Sigh.

What's the deal with voice recognition anyway? It's completely ineffective, the voice is an idiot and ultimately you're connected to an agent so why the hassle?

Idiot Voice: Please explain the reason for your call.
Me: Order status.
Idiot Voice: Did you say, "Pay my bill?"
Me: NO! ORDER STATUS!
Idiot Voice: I'm having trouble understanding you. Please say it in a different way.
Me: Your mom wears combat boots, you moron!
Idiot Voice: I didn't understand that.

So this morning, I call the number again, get some hippy from 1968, who tells me I have to call another number for technical support. "Technical support? My modem is working just fine, but you guys haven't transferred over the DSL to the new line according to my account records." He replies in his make-peace-not-war voice, "Noooo, sounds like technical support to me, man." (he didn't really say "man" at the end but he might as well have) Sigh.

I call the number hippy-man gives me and a sweet kid who has to be from India says, "Let me transfer you to that department." Sigh. As I wait, I feel a wave of pity for this poor kid - trying so hard to learn English and to speak it fluently, sitting in a room surrounded by 100 other kids just like him, probably getting tons of abuse from arrogant, intolerant Americans who don't understand why all our jobs are being shipping overseas, and getting paid $2 an hour. Sigh.

Finally, I'm connected to another overseas voice and she is quite the character. First, she calls me "Mrs. Pee" but I don't correct her. What's the point? Then, I take the time to explain to her that I'm NOT having technical difficulties, my router is perfectly intact, it's obvious I have a connection, yada yada yada..I just need you to register my DSL with the new phone number and I ask her if her system is showing my new phone line. Her reply? "How many green lights do you see on your modem?" This is going to take a while. Sigh.

With as much patience as I can muster (seeing that this is now thirty minutes into this whole ordeal), I ask, "Did you hear my question?" She, with as much patience as SHE can muster, replies, "I need to check that your modem is working properly." Sigh. My comic relief came when she asked me to type an IP address in, "Mrs. Pee. I need you to type the following into your address bar. 1 - 9 - 2. PERIOD!...." She started to say "Dot" but quickly corrected herself and said period instead, which is hilarious on it's own account becuase what's wrong with "dot?" Who says period? But she didn't just say period. She hollered it. So strange but oh so funny.

We go through a whole, long, 30 minute process and guess what? My DSL needed to be registered to the new phone line which is what I asked them to do in the first place. Sigh.

What's Today?

Monday, Monday, Monday. Who needs it? It's cold. It's foggy. It's quiet. Sid is on a plane to sunny southern California as I type, a business trip I would've tagged along on if his new boss wasn't a nice man. He insisted on making all the travel arrangements - flight, hotel and car - and paying the bill since Sid doesn't have his corporate credit card yet. He booked a Monday departure and Friday return for Sid, making my plan of joining Sid on Friday and staying through Sunday impossible, unless we wanted to pay American Airlines $150 to change his return flight. No thanks!

Friday our exterminator came out and did the works. We've been making a real effort to "go local" these day. It's not easy, let me tell you. Normally we go to McKinney or Frisco for services like banking and dry cleaning and such. Sid used the local dry cleaner a few days ago. $30 for 9 items. Yes, I'm serious. $30 at our dry cleaners in McKinney would clean about 30 items! Surprisingly we weren't discouraged. I called up our local exterminator (I guess 1 bug killer for a town of 3500 is plenty) and he came out the next day. He was worth every penny of the $65 he charged me. He sprayed every single room in our house, including upstairs (the last guy only sprayed downstairs - guess he thought bugs don't climb stairs or live in attics or come in through the windows) He put tons of the tiny black-mouse-killer-boxes out - in the garage, in the attic, in a few closets upstairs, outside. By the end of the night, dead crickets and spiders were all over the place! It was like night of the living dead! I'm still paranoid I'm going to step on a mouse, wake up with a mouse asleep on my pillow, have a mouse jump on my face when I open the pantry door but I'm recovering slowly. Why the exterminator felt compelled to inform me that "the mice and rats are going to be really bad this year" I have no idea.

We spent the weekend getting "Lost." We rounded up some blankets, ordered some pizza, got all warm and cozy and started season 4 of our favorite show. (LOST, for you slow pokes) If you aren't watching this show, you have no idea what you are missing. In my opinion, it's the best show of all time. (No, it's the best television drama of all time. I can't possibly select a "best" when considering comedies too.) I remember when the show premiered. We lived in Addison, Sid was outside with Tyler, our neighbor, and I stuck my head out the door and hollered for him to hurry up because the show was starting. We were blown away and have been devoted fans ever since. We watched the first couple of episodes of Season 4 when they aired last year but got behind and decided to wait until the DVD came out (this was before we discovered the miracle that is Tivo). We finally got the DVD and watched 7 episodes in one night! We watched another 4 last night and I have to wait until Friday to finish the series because Sid would kill me if I didn't wait on him. Here is a Season 1 Trailer for those of you who live under a rock or were dropped on your head as babies and aren't watching the show. Even if you only watch for the eye candy you won't be disappointed (Sawyer, Desmond, Jack, Sayid, Jin. Gorgeous!)

Happy Monday, y'all!

I'm Not Safe Anywhere

Our house was invaded this morning and I was alone and defenseless. I was sipping my morning coffee in a peaceful silence when my safe and secure little world was shattered. It wasn't at all how you'd imagine it - there was no banging or clanging, no ferocious barking from the dogs, no terrifying exchange of words. I was just sitting there, peacefully, sipping my morning coffee when the nastiest, dirtiest, most horrific tiny little mouse ran across my floor.

I made a grab for my cell phone and laptop and dashed up the stairs, dialing Sid's number as I ran. "THERE IS A MOUSE IN OUR HOUSE! YOU SAID YOU KILLED THE LITTLE SUCKER! WELL GUESS WHAT? HE'S BACK AND HE'S OUT FOR BLOOD!"

Rewind. It's Sunday. I'm dreaming when I feel something crawling down my back. It's not the sweet, soft walk of a tiny spider or the faintest little tickle of an ant. Oh No. This was the determined, evil footsteps of a bloodthirsty mouse. I jumped up, grabbed my cell phone, pushed a button for light and scanned the covers. Nothing. And come to think of it, I was laying on my side, not my stomach, so why would a mouse walk sideways down my back when he had plenty of room on our king size bed to walk right between Sid and me.? Back to sleep I go but the moment I wake up in the morning, I scan the baseboards and covers for mouse turds. Nothing.

Fast forward. It's Sunday afternoon and we're cleaning house when I spot it. Mouse turds downstairs on the window trim. Coincidence?

Fast forward. It's Monday. I'm snuggled in a warm cozy bed just barely opening my eyes when Sid rushes into the room, breathless, "If I were you, I'd stay put. Bear and I found a mouse and we're trying to kill him." Excuse me, trying? TRYING? He launches into an exciting tale of man spots mouse, man and his dog corner mouse, man shoots mouse with bb gun hoping for a quick mouse death, super strength devil mouse survives, Bear catches mouse, Bear bites mouse, mouse jumps from the grip of Bear's teeth proving it's evil superpowers yet again, mouse hides, mouse waits, mouse escapes out the back door. Sid assures me mouse is near death and will surely be eaten by a hawk when spotted in his defenseless condition. Leigh is happy.

Live update. After my invasion this morning, I lock myself in the bedroom because I'm safe here. Mice don't climb stairs, right? Mice like pantries and kitchens and having a quick access to an outdoor escape, right? WRONG! I'm gathering dirty clothes because Sid has convinced me to start a load of laundry (after I sobbed, "How can I wash clothes today. How?), that I won't be attacked just because the mouse was near the washer and dryer this morning, that the mouse isn't lurking in the dirty clothes waiting to jump on my face. Uh huh. So I'm picking up dirty clothes in the master bathroom when I spot...TWO MOUSE TURDS! So I holler at Sid, "There IS a mouse living in our bedroom! There WAS a mouse crawling down my back in the middle of the night! I'm not safe ANYWHERE in this house!"

So, here I sit - trapped as I wait for the stupid phone company to show up "between 8am and noon" with my faithful guardian, Bear Bear, laying beside me on the bed and jumping up everytime I make a sudden move. I've got a call into the local extermintator, mouse traps on my shopping list, and a mound of dirty clothes that will have to wait another day. May God protect me.

The Big 3-0

I don't think it's been too terribly long since my last blog, but I still have that feeling you get when you run into a friend you haven't seen in a while. You know, that "ah-it's-so-good-to-be-back-in-touch" feeling? So, hello friends! It's so good to be back in touch!

Someone under this roof turned 30, and it sure as heck wasn't me. Sid waved goodbye to a piece of himself last Thursday and eagerly shook hands with Mr. Thirtysomething without missing a beat. (my social butterfly never did find difficulty making new friends) Me, on the other hand? I'm still mourning the loss a teeny bit, I'm not ashamed to admit. Sid and I began dating when I was 18 and he was 19 and deep down I still feel like we're a couple of carefree kids living in someone else's house. The "carefree" part we've managed to savor, but time sort of bullies us to part way with the "kid." And to be clear, the house is most certainly ours and I should know because I pay the bill.

We had a great day full of celebration, starting with homemade pancakes and an explosion of balloons, streamers and confetti in our living room. We enjoyed the gorgeous day with a yummy lunch in McKinney, some shopping (for Sid's new welding machine...thrilling!), and a giant Italian feast later that evening. Sid has requested lasagna on his birthday since before I knew him, and it's an honor to carry on the tradition. We both agreed it was the best lasagna we've ever eaten (thank you, Paula Dean!). We tossed around several options for celebrating the big 3-0 (Vegas, a Dallas stay-cation, to name a couple) but in the end, spending the day together at home was a winner! (especially since we're going to Alaska in June. See! I AM a grown up!)

So, Happy Birthday day to the love of my life, my bestest friend, my soulmate. Here's to the next 30 years!

UPDATE: Reunited and it Feels So Good!

Guess what? Blacky, also known as Max, and Tanny, also known as Angel, went home tonight! I got an email from Animal Control that they were 90% sure they had found the owner and gave me a name and phone number. I emailed her right back and said that my fingers were crossed but at the same time, I'm always nervous that the owner is a mean, terrible person. She replied that he was actually a "VERY nice man," that he works for the sherriff's department, and that he had adopted the pups from the shelter. She also confirmed that Blacky IS in fact Tanny's pup. When we got home from dinner, we went outside and started calling for them by their real names. We had no doubts about their identity after watching their reactions! So cute!

The owner, who happens to live about a mile from our house, called us back this evening and after we confirmed a few details about appearance and collar color and such, he was so relieved that we had his pups and he was at our house with his sweet little daughter within 5 minutes. I could tell that he had warned his daughter that there was still a chance the dogs we had weren't Angel and Max, because when she saw them, she hollered, "Dad! It's Max! And look! There's Angel!" So cute!

I'm thinking about buying two collars and two ID tags from Walmart and sticking them in the family's mailbox with a note that says something like, "Please accept this as our farewell gift to Angel and Max." What do you guys think? Of course, I run the risk of offending the sweet family but at the same time, I'm worried about the safety of the dogs, not the owner's feelings.

UPDATE: Forgot to add that the lady I called from the vet's office DID call me back. She said that it wasn't her dog and that when she pestered the vet about how such a mixup even occurred, they told her that they reuse rabies ID numbers. WHAT? First of all, really? Seriously? Second, they couldn't tell ME that? I asked her if she still used that vet and she said, "NO!" I told her I was so glad to hear it because they certainly don't care much about their customers and that they weren't even willing to call her, which ticked her off because it COULD have been her dog. She said she quit going a while back because of nasty rumors about the place. If you live in Prosper, contact me if you want the name of the clinic.

Dogs, Dogs, Everywhere are Dogs!

It's day 2 with Tanny and Blacky and they are adjusting fabulously with their temporary home. They still show no signs of aggression towards humans or dogs, allowing our neighbors to pet them through the fence and playing cheerfully with a couple wandering dogs that often pass by our fenceline. Bear attempted to start a play wrestling match with Tanny this afternoon and she never engaged him so he quickly tired of her. It almost seems to me that Blacky has had some mean encounters with other animals. When Bear barks at him or tries to play fight, Blacky cries and lays down to avoid any confrontation. He seems truly terrified and it breaks my heart.

During lunch with Stacey this afternoon, she suggested that I march myself into the vet's office and ask them to dial the customer that was linked to Tanny's ID number and then hand me the phone. That's just what I did! After I kindly introducted myself and explained why I was there, I sensed a coolness, almost suspicion from the vet tech and one of the vets who happened to be in the lobby. We have rescued a lot of dogs and I found this enounter with the vet strange and confusing. Most vets, or really I should say ALL vets, once you explain that you are taking full responsibility for the found animal and are not seeking any freebies, treat you as equals. It's as if an unspoken message passes between you and them - "I help dogs. You help dogs. We'll help each other." In all fairness, the girl DID dial two numbers she had on file and allowed me to use her phone to talk. I had to leave messages, but it was nice to hear a friendly recording on the other end of the line. Fingers crossed I get some response. Back to the vet tech, when I showed her a picture of Tanny she said, "I'm sorry, but that's just NOT the same dog." I said, for the 100th time, "That is completely irrelevant to me at this point. The fact is that the rabies tag on [Tanny's] neck was given to the customer you have on file and I need to speak to that person. Maybe her dog ran away and her collar ended up in someone else's hands, maybe she got a new dog and used the same tag. I just need to speak to that person before I can feel comfortable finding this dog another home." It is beyond my understanding that people like her work for a vet clinic - absolutely no joy in her work, no going-the-extra-mile, and most annoyingly, no common sense.

On another note, I've been emailing back and forth with a sweet lady who works for the Collin County Animal Control. I sent her a few pictures to add to the "found" book and asked her to guess on Tanny and Blacky's breed. Her educated guess is lab/shepherd mix for Blacky and a bulldog mix for Tanny. The less "pit" they have in them, the easier our job of finding them a home will be.

UPDATE: Who Let the Dogs Out?

I'm pouring some drinks while Sid is off picking up our pizza and my parents are watching the Golden Globes. I hear Sid opening the front door, some scuffling around and then, "Leigh! You'll never guess what Sid brought home, besides the pizza!" Several things pop into my head, mostly dessert-related, so when Mom replies, "Two dogs!" I'm not quite sure what to think. Dogs? Like hot dogs? Like, DOG dogs? Did OUR dogs get out of the fence?

Sid explains that as he was walking back to his car after stopping at our grocery store to buy ice, two dogs ran up to him crying and pacing and looking very pitiful as they sniffed the pavement for their next meal. He decided that if the dogs jumped into his truck when he opened the door, he would bring them home. Guess what? They jumped into his truck and nuzzled him the whole way home.

When I walked out to the truck to meet our new visitors, they didn't even raise their heads - they just laid there! I went back inside, locked our dogs in the gameroom, fixed two bowls of food and Sid led them through the gate into our backyard. The dogs are super sweet - very desperate for love and affection - and they look pretty darn healthy. One is a tan pit/lab mix and has a collar with a rabies tag (more on that later) and the other is a black pit/lab mix without a collar. They are definitely buddies - they struggle for attention but haven't shown any signs of aggression in order to do so. I took the tan female to a vet this morning to scan her for a microchip, but of course, she didn't have one. Her buddy refused to ride in the Jeep so he stayed behind. We called the vet on the collar tags and gave them the rabies ID number. They found the owner but said the dog on file does not match their description. The girl promised to look into it and call me back. After 2 hours, I called HER back and our conversation went like this:

Me: Hi, any updates?
Girl: Well, the dog on file isn't the same dog you have so...
Me: Did you call the person to check?
Girl: No, like I said, it's not the same dog. Their dog is a chocolate lab.
Me: Um, don't you think it's possible that they used the old dog's collar on the new pet, thinking some identification was better than nothing? (I REALLY wanted to say, "Do you think this animal has super powers? She jimmied the lock on the door, hog tied the labrador and duct taped his mouth, stole the dog's collar, put the collar around her OWN neck and then escaped through the window?!")
Girl: Well, I don't know...
Me: Can you give me the number and I'LL call the person?
Girl: No, that's against our policy.
Me: Look, this is my only lead and the owner, if it IS the owner, has the right to get their dog back. If I can't call, you're going to have to do it for me. I have no other options.
Girl: Um, yeah.

She called back an hour later to inform me she had left a message on the "owner's" voicemail and left my number. In the mean time, I've of course alerted animal control and their descriptions were posted to the book of lost/found pets - animal control is the first place most people look for lost pets. Animal control will pick the dogs up at our request, but we would never do such a thing. Our county euthanizes (according to our vet, the euthanize most dogs/cats after the 3 day hold period), and they have a typical pit bull policy - kill. I've contacted a few pitbull rescues for advice on the worst case scenario that no one claims these precious pups.

I'll post some pictures when Sid gets home with the camera and if you know anyone who needs two dogs (don't think they'd survive a separation), let me know! Of course, we'd have to wait a week or so to give the owner a chance to claim them.

Update: Here are some photos of our friends, and after researching and viewing photos online, I'm not so sure that they have very much pitbull in them. "Tanny" (aren't I creative?) is a little dog, maybe 40 pounds, and is much too narrow in the chest to have TOO much pit in her but you can obviously see some in her face. We're pretty sure she is Blacky's momma. "Blacky" reminds me of Scott and Stacey's dog, Skeeter, but with shorter, less wiry hair. My guess is that he's part lab. Feel free to send your ideas about their breeds! I'm all ears!

We introduced our dogs to Tanny and Blacky and as usual, Bear was the brat. They got along great with Dixie and they really wanted Bear Bear to like them, but Bear had to show them that this was HIS house, HIS yard. I was happy to see that Blacky and Tanny showed absolutely no aggression - not a raised hair, not a growl, not even a friendly tackle. In fact, they did everything they could to make sure Bear knew they had no desire to contest his alpha dog status. They are precious, precious animals.

What's Happening These Days

Just checking in! Sid completed his final week with the industrial automation distributor he's been with for the last 5 years. He started in outside sales and was promoted after 2 years to business unit manager. He's been less than enthusiastic about his job for a very long time, but knew the position was crucial for his career. Turns out he was exactly right. About a month ago, he accepted a regional sales manager position with very large corporation in their flow control division. He's now a "factory guy," which is a pretty sweet deal. He'll have a 9 state territory (including Colorado, which we're pretty stoked about), he'll office from home (with his boss in another state), get a company car, and all the essentials (cell phone, laptop). He'll be traveling a bunch at first (mostly overnight trips but some longer) and then less as he settles into his new territory. I work from home so I'll get to tag along when he's going somewhere exciting - like Colorado, and California (division headquarters) and New York (corporate headquarters) and other spots I love like Missouri and Arkansas and Tennessee.

To really make things interesting, he got sick. Yep - during his last week. He went to work anyway, knowing how important it was for his boss to transition the position, complete a few vital reports etc. We don't really know what hit him, but he started having "severe" back and joint pain (and for Sid to use the word "severe" that's saying something...he has a very high pain tolerance), fever, upset stomach and a migraine headache. Fun, right? The really bizarre thing is that he would wake up feeling okay and then progressively get worse throughout the day, suffer through the night, wake up ok and then the cycle repeated. He's felt good for the last couple of days, so he's over it but it was the oddest thing. We thought I was coming down with it, but I just had an upset stomach and some low grade fever and then, poof! It was gone. So stinkin strange.

My parents are coming this weekend so we can officially welcome the newest little member of our family, Miss Maya - my stepbrother and sister-in-law's first baby. We'll head to Dallas tomorrow and we're so excited to meet her. She's gorgeous and tiny and she'll have wonderful, talented, loving parents and I couldn't be happier for all of them. I would post pictures, but I don't have permission yet.

So, that sums up our week! Hope you all had a great one!

Our Big Bump In the Night

Before dawn this morning I'm having a nightmare - something about summer camp for girls and the counselors are evil and plotting to kill us - when a real life bump-in-the-night wakes me up. "WHAT was THAT?" Sid whispers as he shoots up in bed and grabs his pistol in one fluid motion. Gulp. "I don't know!" I whisper, just as we hear the second noise. He jumps up to look out the window and debates doing his normal bump-in-the-night routine - grab Bear, load pistol, tour the house. This time is different. This time Sid really thinks someone is in our house. - someone brazen enough to make a bunch of noise. The first noise was loud and defined, like a picture slowly falling down the wall or maybe a window slowly opening, and the second noise sounded to me like a gunshot. To clarify, I knew it wasn't a gunshot but it had that same ring to it - a loud bang followed by a creepy, empty echo. "What time is it?" I ask, praying he doesn't say 3:30. "3:30," he answers with a tiny bit of panic in his voice.

Sid and I have always agreed that 3AM is a bad hour. He can remember his Dad telling him that the worst things happen to people at 3AM because it's very dark and very quiet. It's the hour of the devil, in case you didn't know, and Sid has a creepy habit of waking up at 3:30AM almost every morning. For me, I have two words for you: Amityville Horror. I was quite the little reader growing up and I especially loved mystery and horror books. If you recall, strange things happened to the family that moved into the cursed Amityville home, like George, the father, waking up every morning at 3:15 and then later discovering that was the time the horrible murders took place. Shudder! 3AM is no good, and 3:30 specifically is really not good for Sid. I should also note that Sid has very vivid recurring nightmares about us being attacked while unprepared and I imagine those images were rushing through his head.

So when Sid answers "3:30" imagine the goosebumps that pop up on my arms and the chill that runs down my spine. We call 911. The first time we've ever done such a thing in our own home (we had to once at Randy & Cindy's but that's another story) and we're both really shaken up about having to do it now. In less than 4 minutes, a patrol car is shining his spotlight up and down our street and then creeping to our door while shining the beam of his flashlight into all our windows. Unknown to us at the time, a Prosper officer (the neighboring town) is doing the same in our backyard. The 911 dispatcher asks Sid to put his gun away and open the door for the officer , and he leaves me on gun patrol (which for me means sliding it under the covers close enough for me to reach in a hurry but not in my hand..with the shivers rolling down my body, that seemed the safest method).

Sid and the officers search our home and find nothing. As they are walking out the door, one of them says to Sid, "I wonder if it was ice sliding off the roof." Ohhhhh! Our roof WAS coated in a sheet of ice and temperatures were predicted to rise this morning. It would sound like a gunshot as a piece breaks off and then makes a sort of echo as it tumbled down the roof, wouldn't it? Later in the night, we hear the noise again and confirm the officer's theory. Sid was embarassed but I assured him, "We did the right thing. You're only embarassed because they didn't find a mass murderer in the coat closest holding a bloody ax. But what if?"

I'm reminded of my aunt and uncle who also heard a bump-in-the-night years ago and upon investigation, saw the shadow of the intruder's head bobbing along the wall. They gathered up the kids, called 911 and waited while the police searched the home, sure that a bloodlusting lunatic was in their living room. It didn't take long for the police to capture their villian - a bunch of balloons that had come loose from whatever they were tied to, being bounced around by the ceiling fan. They all shared a good hearty laugh but I'm sure my uncle, like Sid, was mortified.

Who's Ready for More Photos?

Are you searching frantically for a sharp object to insert into your eye socket? Are you having overwhelming waves of irritation clouding your ability to function? Never fear, the end is near! After today, I only have one more day of vacation chatter left to share.

Who doesn't love Saturday? And Saturday in New York City? What could be better? (except maybe a Saturday in Paris or Rome...or winning a million dollars...oh nevermind!)

Saturday Highlights:
1. Union Square: Our morning began with a quick hop on the subway to 23rd Street, followed by a leisurely stroll to Union Square. Along the way, we stopped at Madison Square Park and the Flatiron Building and then made a dash for Whole Foods Market for a quick breakfast in the second floor cafe, where we had a wonderful view of Union Square.
2. Slice of Brooklyn Pizza Tour: We met up with our tour guide, hopped on the bus, and hit the road to Brooklyn! We stuffed our faces with pizza and chocolate, we walked the boardwalk at Coney Island, we toured a few parks, saw several famous movie locations and mafia assassination spots, and we toured several beautiful neighborhoods. What a great way to see Brooklyn!
3. Grand Central Terminal: We popped in to check out The Campbell Apartment, but unfortunately weren't dressed for anything more than a quick peek (upscale bar + Nikes = inappropriate). Next we gave the whispering gallery a go - it's an arched entryway where you can stand in one corner, whisper, and then listen in amazement when your friend whispers back from another corner a good 50 to 60 feet away. Sure, there were other dorks doing the same thing and we all shared a hearty laugh, but everyone else thought we were on crack.
4. NY Pops at Carnegie Hall: Another life highlight in New York City!

The New York Pops
Rob Fisher, Conductor and Piano
The King’s Singers, Guest Artists
Marilyn Horne, Special Guest

Sid and I merely walked by Carnegie Hall last December and I was awe-struck. Sitting in my cozy seat as a brilliant symphonic orchestra performed holiday classics with the masterful voices of the King's Singers in Carnegie Hall in New York City as snow fell outside? A heart of stone would've been moved by the experience. My favorite moment was an encore performance by beloved opera singer Marilyn Horne (no, I had never heard of her!) and the King's Singers of "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas" and the entire audience joined in.

5. Stone Rose: A swanky lounge in Columbus Circle, the picture windows frame a stunning view of the circle and Central Park. We thought we'd pop in before our late dinner after the Carnegie Hall performance, but saw a dozen emergency vehicles outside Time Warner Center and the fire alarm was blasting as we made our way inside and up to to the fourth floor. After overhearing that there had been a kitchen fire in the steakhouse we wanted to try (what are the odds?), we decided to skip dinner altogether and get drinks and appetizers instead. Pricey but delicious, we finally headed back to the hotel to catch some zzzzzz's.