Help me understand

I don't often ask for help. It's kind of my thing; I demand to do things by myself so that I can later claim to "have to do everything!" But I digress.

In cases of emergency such as this, I must ask for the expertise of the public to help me understand the following items of discussion. I have accepted that I cannot find resolution on my own.

1. The new ordering procedure at Chik-Fil-A (CFA). Now I'm not sure if this is a nationwide thing or if it is a specialized change only for the lucky population near 41st and Yale in Tulsa, OK, but here is what is going on: Upon arrival at CFA, there are (wildly) pleasant employees standing approximately 10 feet in front of the drive-thru order sign. Please refer to the diagram. This person is labeled "1" and

"1A" as there are two ordering lanes. Anyhoo-- in my experience, I pull into the lane and "1" says something along the lines of "Hello!! Welcome!! Please drive forward to the menu and someone will be happy to take your order!" First of all, I think to myself, "Yes, thank you for the instructions. This is the first time I have ever been to a fast food establishment." But I pulled forward like a good girl. Here's where it started to get really weird. The same person, AKA #1, follows me to the menu order board and takes my order on an electronic tablet. What!? At the time, I just pretended like all of this was completely normal, but my mind was blown. She nor I mentioned the fact that we had already spoken, so she welcomed me to CFA once again. I ordered, she took my card, swiped it on her pocket card reader (How can I get one of those by the way?), and instructed me to move forward to the next station for my order confirmation. What kind of crazy chicken place has this become? I drive forward to station #2, an outdoor tent structure, where a second (wildly) enthusiastic employee confirmed my order and handed me my receipt. Why is this necessary!? #2 informs me that I have passed the test and I may now approach the window to receive my food. I thank her, and she tells me that it was her pleasure. Once I get to the window, the world is right again. I receive my delicious [grilled] chicken. Thank you, ketogenic diet. But seriously, the way I see it there are now 3 teenagers being paid to do the same job as an intercom once successfully accomplished. Am I missing something? Help me understand.  **Edit: Aaron just informed me that this has been happening at CFAs for quite some time. As I have eaten a lot of chicken from this particular restaurant, I claim that this is a new procedure.

2. Candy Crush, the series. CBS 8:00 PM (CST) Sunday, following Big Brother. My primary concern with this program is that Candy Crush is no longer relevant. All the cool kids have moved on to

Township. Holla! Aside from the anxiety I have for CBS ratings, I just think that this show is an illustration of how far the intelligence of the American people has fallen. Once upon a time, winning a game show required some level of knowledge (Jeopardy, $100,000 Pyramid, Weakest Link). Now, Albert Clifford (A.C.) Slater is responsible for handing players a giant finger pointer while viewers at home watch candy-matching. Look at this picture and tell me you aren't embarrassed for everyone involved. Help me understand why this is okay. By explaining, you are not necessarily admitting that you watch it.

3. Exposed shoulders. I recently had the pleasure of enjoying a child-free evening with the little mister. During this time, I realized that exposed shoulders are all the rage. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against shoulders. However, I don't understand this look. Does the shoulder area retain a lot of heat, thus requiring additional ventilation? Are these shirts intended for the women feeling a little bit modest/ a little bit risque? Is there a group of singles out there with a "thing" for shoulders that these exposed ladies are trying to attract? Did Cosmo magazine recently do an article regarding shoulders,"The Body Part Nobody Is Talking About But Should Be..?" Maybe this is the opposite of 1980s shoulder pads. Just a thought. I guess if you have exceptionally nice looking shoulders, flaunt them. I won't judge, but I would like for you to help me understand.

These are the things that I've been pondering.

H

We've come a long way

Aaron takes a wife.

15 years ago this month, I was introduced to a fellow previously described to me as "Elton John-esque." Despite the description, I agreed to meet him. The following week, I ruined his hair and had to shave his head with a Bic razor, much to his mother's chagrin. Two weeks after that, we bought an engagement ring.

On July 12, 2003 (14 years ago tomorrow if anyone is counting), I wed the young fellow. Many of you have heard the tales of the "First Years." If you haven't, invite me over for crumb cake and I'll tell you some tales.

Over the years, we have (lit'rally) come a long way. I did the math; we have driven approximately 3,830 miles in various Uhaul trucks.

For your enjoyment, I have compiled an album of my favorite terrible pictures, 2002-present.

They say your wedding day is the most beautiful day of your life. Glad I was having a good bangs day.

Little known fact: Sock monkey cake makes me swell.

We're obviously very serious about scooter riding. FDNY was my official sponsor.

My daughter just asked if I was pregnant in this picture. "Nope."

This must have been the year I was undercover as a brunette and Aaron a lumberjack.

Sometimes a girl just needs to grab her plastic purse, put on overalls, find her high heeled flip flops, and jump in the car. 

I have this hobby of bringing home pets without permission. These are two of those pets.

Nothing spells fun like Old Time Photos.

...but despite all my quirks, we're even. Because Aaron had an earring. 

Happy Anniversary to the only person who could stand me for this long.

XOXO

H-face.

Well, that was disappointing.

This week I packed my suitcase (the hubby filled his Walmart sack), and we headed down south to Sulphur, OK. I planned this short, little trip a couple of weeks ago when it was announced that the children would be going to Branson with Grandma and Grandpa.

Finding a destination upon which Aaron and I can agree is nearly impossible. He wants to stay in a remote cabin, and I want to stay in a thriving metropolis. It's hard to find a middle-ground that pleases us both. However, I stumbled upon the website for Echo Canyon Resort and Spa in Sulphur, OK which offered the benefit of comfort (for her) and wildlife (for him). What more could you ask for? I'll tell you what! One of the rooms available was named "Marilyn Monroe's Boudoir," and the room photographs displayed life-sized cardboard cutouts of Marilyn. As you can imagine, I submitted payment immediately, and the room was booked.

Every person I encountered between the time the reservation was made and the moment we arrived at the resort was aware of my excitement. I planned to do so many ridiculous things involving Marilyn. The hilarity I imagined was endless.


But I was disappointed.  The room was beautiful. Despite an extraordinary number of Marilyn art pieces, the furniture, the jacuzzi, the balcony, THE FOOD (!!!), everything was amazing. How could I document ridiculousness in such an amazing atmosphere? I couldn't. Sigh.

Here is a shameless plug for the resort. If you need company, please take me.
Echo Canyon Resort and Spa 

Don't be uncomfortable. I have clothes on, I swear.

There is an on-site peach orchard!

Anyhoo--after relaxing and unwinding, it was time to people watch at Turner Falls. Wow. Admission to enter to park for two adults is $24 total, and the experience was worth every penny. Yes, the waterfalls and scenery are beautiful. The real entertainment, however, came from truly experiencing Oklahoma through the eyes of "an outsider," my spouse.

We have determined that we are not people who will ever be comfortable camping near the communal Port-A-John. Oh, and as a special surprise I think our visit coincided with septic clean out day. There are a lot of people who enjoy this type of thing, and my hat is off to those people...but I'm not one of them. My definition of vacation is not walking around with a t-shirt tied around my nose because of the overwhelming stench exuding from the septic pump. People were really doing that! Anyway, that's just me. There were hoards of camping people! Where did they all come from!? I wanted to take pictures, but Aaron wouldn't let me. I believe his reasoning was something along the lines of "a group of wild kids like the ones in the movie Hook might jump out of the woods and kill you."

Once we drove through the community of campers, we made it to a sign declaring "Caves ahead." So, being the spelunkers that we are, we decided to hop out of the car and explore some caves. Bad idea. Firstly, I was wearing my $0.98 Walmart flip flops, and Aaron was wearing khaki shorts...because, why wouldn't he be? We realized that we were not equipped for our journey approximately 10 feet into the trail. I believe the quote from this neck of the journey was "Eww, this trail is, like, nature-y." Yet we pressed on. I wish we would have planned ahead and organized a scavenger hunt. We spied a 1980's style orange-cicle wrapper and a dirty pair of underwear. Believe it or not, we made it to the first (of I don't know how many) caves on the trail. The entrance to the cave was smaller than either of my children could have squeezed into. At this point, red-faced and out of breath, we did a 180 degree turn and walked back to the comfort of our air conditioned car. I am perfectly content saying that I saw the exterior of 1 cave during my vacation.


So, during our three days away from the city we verified that we are not hikers, and we require permanent housing facilities. Give us indoor plumbing, and we'll be good to go.

That's what I have to say about that.

H

Was Friday the 13th?

Since April, I've been working diligently to make some updates to our house. It is an ongoing mission and will probably never be completed. As a result of these projects, there is a corner of the garage dedicated to renovation supplies (paint, tools, cardboard boxes that are too big to break down and go into the recycle bin, etc.). Among these items is a wooden pallet. It's not just an ordinary, mildly-heavy pallet. This one must have concrete poured into the crevices because it is impossible to move. It lives on the right side of the garage against the shelves because no one in the house is strong enough to move it. Sorry, Aaron--not even you. It took a moving truck from Lowe's to get it into the garage in the first place. It will remain there until the end of time.

So last Friday, I awoke to torrential rain and had an appointment to make. Logically, I thought that there may be an umbrella located on the shelves in the garage. I innocently approached the shelves, thus the pallet, unsuspecting of impending doom. The pallet, I presume, was waiting for this singular moment to fall..right onto my foot.

I'm not just telling you about this to obtain sympathy, though you may offer some if you choose. The reason I mention my possibly broken foot is to document my evidence that Murphy's Law is real.

For approximately 1 month, I had no solid plans or deadlines, and everything ran like clockwork. However, on Friday I had a scheduled appointment and the universe crumbled. Coincidence? No.

The weather this summer in Oklahoma has been lovely. Tons of sunshine. As previously mentioned, Friday morning: Rain. 24 hour forecast: More Rain. Nothing ever runs smoothly on rainy days. My hair curls in unpredictable ways. Shoes make awkward noises. Things get soggy. Unless your plans are to hibernate on the couch, a rainy forecast just isn't going to work out.

As a result of the rain, I searched for an umbrella. See pallet incident. I did not find an umbrella. I hobbled back into the house, crying out of pain and anger, to get my rain jacket. My behavior in turn made my daughter cry. My son got mad at my daughter for crying. It was a hot mess. My husband was trying to ensure that my foot was not broken, but I did not have time for all that drama. See below. The photo does not capture the bruising as well as I would like. I guess the intention of photography is normally to make subjects look as pretty as possible. Not this time. I want it to look as gruesome as it feels.


Anyway, back to the story, I did not think to apply waterproof mascara that morning because who woulda thunk that it was necessary on a typical Friday morning to apply waterproof mascara?! So, I looked like a sad clown quickly galloping around the house on one foot.

I got myself cleaned up and made it to my car. I got new tires on my car in May, and I have had no alerts on my dashboard since then. Friday morning: The dashboard says "Check tire pressure!" Assuming my car knows what it is talking about, I got out [in the rain] to check the tires. My tires looked fine. I'm not sure if I was relieved or mad that I didn't have a flat tire. The universe could not win by that time.

The weather, the pallet, and my dashboard were all conspiring against me, but I won. I beat Murphy's Law, and I'll tell you how.  Pattern mixing. I have pretty much come to the conclusion that regardless of what else is happening in your life, mixing patterns will always create joy. I have shared with you one of my secrets to living a happy life. You're welcome.

And that's what I have to say about that.

-H

Happy Big Brother Eve!

Tomorrow is the season premier of Big Brother, Season 19. If you have known me for any amount of time, you know how important this show is to me. Three days per week every summer are dedicated to quality entertainment brought to me by my friends at CBS. As a family who utilizes only streaming channels (Netflix, Amazon, Hulu, etc.), we do not have access to DVR or whatever the cool kids are using these days to record live television. This means that I, literally, have to be home when Big Brother airs or risk seeing spoilers on Facebook.  You have never truly seen rage unless you have made the mistake of telling me the winner of a BB competition before the next episode airs.

Thought: Those of you who subscribe and watch the Live Feeds and/or After Dark are probably the same people who, as kids, opened presents before Christmas morning. Am I right? The bonus footage ruins the actual episodes for me. However, it is a personal decision and I respect your choice and your loyalty to BB.

I realize that there are people among us who do not appreciate the show. I will speak to these people again in September.

For those of you who remain, you need to know that I truly want to be a contestant on Big Brother. For real. Here are my concerns:

1) I would make enemies from the word 'Go!' My sleeping arrangements are, maybe, the most important thing to me in life. [Just kidding. Kind of.] I am a bed sheet connoisseur. And pillows! Don't even get me started on pillows! Thus, if I did not approve of my bed placement and comfort level, I wouldn't make many friends and my social game would be shot.

2) I'm just really not a very good liar. I don't think the household members would believe me if I pretended to be a 20something beautician with a really exotic past instead of a mid-30s mom and wife from Oklahoma. These hips don't lie.

3) I would never survive the initial Head of Household competition which is an endurance challenge. I don't only mean that I would lose the competition; I mean that I honestly might die. I have an abnormally low amount of upper-body strength, and the contestants generally end up hanging from something in Week 1.

4) I take a lot of showers, and I'm really not into other people being in the same room when I bathe. So that could be an issue. 

If I could overcome these hurdles, I think I could make it to the finale. Unfortunately, my husband will seriously not support my going to casting calls for Big Brother. There have been agents in Oklahoma at least 3 times (!!!) casting for Big Brother. Each time, there has been a serious conversation regarding my attendance. I'm not sure why he doesn't support the constant recording of my behavior...24 hours a day...7 days a week....for 3 months. Sigh.

Happy Big Brother Eve!

And that's what I have to say about that.
~H

The Secret Garden

If someone were to say, "Hey Heather, what have you been up to this summer?" I would:

• think it was bizarre that they used my first name in a sentence. I always find it a bit awkward when names are used directly in conversation.  For example, two people are speaking casually, and one person says to another, "Thank you, Joe." I don't feel it is necessary to use proper names unless there are blind people involved.

• most importantly, answer the question by saying that I have been gardening. I am a creature of habit and thrive best with a schedule. Thus, at 10:00 AM every day I spend time weeding and watering flowers in the front yard. 

I realize this makes me sound incredibly dull. I'm going to take it one step further. When I'm not gardening, I've been reading classic novels. Think of how terrible my biography would be. "Roses and Reading: The Stodgy Life of Heather B." It would be sold in the Clearance bin for $0.78.

I feel the need to keep a log (or blog, if you will) of how I spent a summer worth of free time. In order to do that, I'm going to need to rewind for a moment.

My family moved into our house in April 2016. On move-in day, it was a special surprise to us that the previous owner installed our privacy fence approximately 4-5 feet away from our neighbor's fence resulting in a 5'X 1/3 acre gap between the properties. This issue has fallen under the "we will fix this someday" list, but it has not been high priority.

Fast forward to present day. One day this week, the older of our two standard poodles would not stop barking outside which is unusual for her. I discovered (by peeking through the fence slats like a psycho) that she had cornered a little, tiny kitten in the overgrown alley between the two fences. I tried numerous things to get my dog to come inside. Keep in mind that all of these attempts were made from the front yard, thus visible by passersby. Furthermore, all attempts were made with my head pressed directly to a wooden fence and my eyeball lined up with the gap between the boards. Bribes/threats utilized: a can of Spam, a water hose, wet dog food, an iPhone doorbell app, Vienna sausages. Envision it. After everything failed, I had no other option than to trudge into the dark, overgrown yard territory where, I assume, poisonous plants are growing and nasty varmints are actively breeding.

The inspiration

In case you're worried: I did not die. Now that I think of it, between this post and the frightening fungus issue in the last post, this blog may turn up being my own documentation for Cause of Death. Spooky. Anyway, I made it to the end of the alley, saved the cat, chastised my dog, threw myself a little celebration for being a superhero, and got out of there as quickly as possible.

Uncharted territory

Wait for it, I'm going to bring everything full circle--kind of like a finale. So, after I escaped the backyard wilderness alley, got back to the safety of my house, and continued reading..."The Secret Garden," it hit me. I will turn this frightening jungle into my own secret oasis. I ran back outside and snapped this photo at the entrance of the jungle. So that's the latest thing on my agenda. I don't think I can keep it a secret from my husband since I am going to need his manly help (and money), but I'm wondering how long I can keep my secret garden away from my kids. #goals

As I realize that my summer vacation may be coming to a close and that I may possibly be returning to the workforce, the development of my Secret Garden may take a while. I'm thinking pretty hard about getting a sign printed that says "Coming Spring 2018." Regardless of whether or not the sign is made, you should probably go ahead and buy a fancy hat and start picking out your favorite tea for upcoming afternoons with me.

And that's what I have to say about that.

--H

As I was saying...6 1/2 years ago

It appears that time has gotten away from me, and before I realized it over 6 years had passed. I wish I could say that I was involved in some sort of amazing Sleeping Beauty scenario, but that's not the case.

The last time we spoke, I was serving as a lunch lady/janitor with the deceptive title of "Substitute Teacher" (see previous post). I gracefully bowed out of that position with the little pride I had remaining and sauntered off to do various other things. This is the perfect opportunity to use "yada, yada, yada." In 2011, I quit my job of serving and cleaning up mashed potatoes, I got a new job, yada yada yada, it's 2017.

My kids who I used to write cutesy little snippets about are now 7 and 9 years old. I'm not sure how that happened. I have come to the realization over the years that people really only like hearing stories about kids to whom they are related, so I'll save those stories for another day. You're not permanently off the hook. I have 6 years worth of stories in my back pocket and they're bursting to get out. I will devote one full post to emails received regarding behavior. There's something to look forward to.

Today's post will be dedicated to things I have learned in the past 3 weeks. Oh, I forgot to mention that in the "yada, yada, yada" the small detail that I quit another job. So, I'm currently unemployed and learning a lot of new miscellaneous things by accident. Most of this information has been obtained utilizing my Google machine.

1. It is physically impossible to sunburn where you have a freckle. Sunscreen application now takes numerous hours, but I don't have to waste lotion on all my spots.



2. This thing growing on my painted pallet is a type of fungus. Though it is a type of 'vomit' fungus, properly named Brilliant Yellow 'Vomit' fungus, people on gardening websites thing it is 'beautiful.' Before I learned what it was, I photographed it so that my husband would know what killed me if it hatched.

 3. Grooming a poodle is no laughing matter. Professional groomers (and the pseudo-professionals at Petsmart) should be bringing home 6-figure salaries. It took me 6 hours to bathe, dry, brush, and begin trimming my poodle's hair. I called my husband at work and told him I had an emergency at home. As it turns out, I just needed him to help me hold the dog. 8 hours later, the dog looks like the kid in Kindergarten whose mom cut his hair.

4. My house has an inordinate amount of roly polies. Also, right at this moment, I learned how to spell roly poly. I was under the impression that it was rolly polly, but that didn't look right. Secondly, while Googling the spelling of roly poly, I discovered that roly polies are not bugs. And they're related to shrimp?! Anyway--I sweep roly polies up every day. It's the strangest thing. That's really all I had to say about that.

5. Having free times gives me the false belief that I am athletic. So, I think to myself, "I should start golfing." The next day comes and I think to myself, "I'm going to start jogging." There is no basis for me to think that I would be qualified to even try either of these hobbies. I have a bicycle (step 1), and I sat on it the other day (step 2). The tires were flat. So I guess the idea of being a bicyclist is out the window. Nearly every day we go to the neighborhood pool, and I think to myself, "this is it. This is the day I'm going to swim laps." But then I see the patio chair with my shape of my body molded into it from the previous day, and I can't resist. It wouldn't be fair to the chair. 

That's pretty much what I've learned so far during my summer vacation. In case you're still reading this blog and regularly checking for updates after 6 1/2 years, here's what you missed.

2016

2014

2013

2015

 So until I have something vaguely interesting to share with you or 6 1/2 years passes, whichever comes first, goodbye. Maybe I should come up with a fancy sign-off. I'll be working on that. 


 ~H