Today is a list. Or at least, I think it will be. My mind is a little scattered, but if it clears up as my fingers keep typing, we might just have a true blue post on our hands. Or not.
1. Today is 11/11/11. Yes, the repeated numbers are awesome. But the first two, 11/11, mean that it's Veteran's Day, which is more important that six one's in a row. I would tell you to thank a veteran, but I'm going to be honest and say that doing that in person makes me nervous, and I might not do it myself. Don't get me wrong, I'm waaaaay grateful. But I feel weird and awkward thanking them. It doesn't help that Handsome tells me that when people thank him for his job, he feels weird and awkward. So tell me, if you know a veteran, do they appreciate being thanked? Have you thanked a veteran? Have you bought their meal or picked up their tab? Expand this out for me. And because I'm too uncertain to say it out loud, I'll put it up here:
Thank you, veterans/current military personnel, for your service to and for our country.
And thank you to your families, who make your service possible.
Don't forget the families of these men & women. As the family of a brave man in a dangerous service-type job (you know what I'm saying here, my fingers just aren't typing coherently), I know some of what it takes for him to do his job well. Those families are doing a lot, and their sacrifices are on par with the person serving.
2. I blow-dried (blew-dried? blowed-dry? blowed-dried?) my hair this morning, using the heat from my car's heater. You know, those upper-blower-thingies that you put your hands in front of to warm up? I dried my hair on the air off of those. It worked like a charm. I don't know if that's awesome or pathetic.
|See that? They installed 4 hair-dryers in the new Jeep.|
3. I'm excited about today. I don't know why. But I am. I think it's going to be awesome.
4. Conversation from our house yesterday:
M: Hey Hon, are you okay?
M: Because you slept for 14 1/2 hours, and so I was kind of worried about you.
D: I'm fine.
M: Then why did you sleep for 14 1/2 hours yesterday?
D: Because I wanted to.
M: And "you do what you want"?
D: Yep. After the first 7 hours, my body wanted to get up, but I made it keep sleeping.
M: Oh. Okay. Because that's normal.
5. I head to Charlott-a (I can't think of a good nickname for it, like Chi-town has, or G-vegas. Ideas?) tomorrow, and I'm pretty pumped. And suggestions for places to eat, things to see? For the most part, I'm going to be seeing the inside of the convention center's conference rooms, but on the off chance I get to leave the hotel, I'd like to have a place to go. A place other than the NASCAR Hall of Fame. Because, much to my head-shaking-disbelief, we are already having a reception there. woot.
6. I had a dream about Duke 2 nights ago. I wanted to blog about it, but it was too fresh. I woke up crying, it was so awful. But I had a nice dreamless sleep last night, and I feel adequately prepared to break it down for you now.
|The Museum looked like this.|
So we're in WWII Germany, and I'm apparently not one of the "undesirables", because I'm still living in my house there, with Duke, and we're as free to go about our lives as any non-captured person was at that time. And then the war ends, and that's great. Except "they" (who is "they"? No idea. I think "they" were German.) decide to erect some museums to honor Germany's battle during the war. And "they" decide that Duke would make an excellent addition to the museum. So "they" take him from me and put him in the museum. Alive, not stuffed. Suffice to say, I'm heartbroken. I decide that this cannot stand, and make plans to break him out of there. Turns out the same night I'm breaking him out, some other people are robbing the new museum of other things, and so we join forces and rob the museum together. I get Duke out, but we get captured outside the museum, and they take him away again. Next thing I know, I'm on trial for grand larceny (or something) and I just can't stop sobbing about how "they" are taking away my canine companion, again. And then I wake up. Crying. Like, real tears, running down my face.
p.s.- Handsome was no help, because this was the night he slept for 14 1/2 hours.
I don't even want to begin to explore what that dream signifies. At least I know, in my subconscious, that I really do love Duke, even when I want to sell him for a lollipop because he's hypothetically running all over my upholstery fabric with his muddy paws, while I'm trying to hypothetically re-upholster a bench.
7. All I wanted yesterday was Bubble Tape, Original. So when Handsome took my on a date because we won't see each other for a solid week, it included a stop at CVS to buy said gum. And it was wonderful. I'm chewing a piece right now, getting that powder stuff all over the right half of the keyboard. Bliss! We also watched Puss in Boots, which was cute.
8. I have real work to do today. I'm actually going to do it. You might not hear from me again for a little while, what with all the conferenc-ing I'm going to be doing. But don't worry, I'll come back all full of information and new stories. I promise. And, truth be told, I'll probably write one or two things while I'm up there. I can't help it, you're impossible to resist.
Thankful for my freedom to write long discombobulated lists,