Bumper Sticker Wisdom

Seen on a bumper sticker this morning:

Mean people produce tiny mean people

It's hard to argue with that.

A Happy News Item, For Once

Apparently it's feast or famine over here at Misadventures...

TLS and I heard a piece on the radio this morning about a pediatric oncology patient who had his portable game player and games stolen from the family's car during a stop on their way to the hospital for his monthly chemotherapy appointment. They reported the burglary to police but didn't expect much to come from it. You know, what with big city apathy and all that. Well, it turns out that officers from the Dallas Police Department donated $1,200 to replace the belongings and have the car window repaired (with about $850 given to the family for anything else they might need). How's that for a feel-good story?

Link to DMN article for more details.

Long Time, No See

O.K. So I know that I've been absent for a few days on the ol' blog. Hopefully someone missed my unique (read: strange) sense of humor or maybe it was just like in the old westerns when the wind whistles down the empty streets and a tumbleweed goes bouncing down the wooden sidewalk. (Sometimes I amaze even myself with the weird stuff that comes out of my brain.) Anyway, back to reality...

I don't have a real excuse. I think it was a combination of not having much to say and the perfectionist in me not wanting to start on something unless it could be "perfect". (Whew, there's nothing like putting all of your insecurities and neuroses out on the Internet for everyone to see.)

It is my favorite time of the year in North Texas. Bluebonnet time! Hooray! Just last week I was thinking, "Where are the bluebonnets?" and then, lo, I saw my first clump by the side of the highway. I know it's all Texan-ist (Texas chauvanist) of me, but there is something about the state flower growing happily along our roadsides that makes my heart full. And don't ask how I know they are happy, I just know. They are all blue and white and cute and lovable. Like this. Also, during the height of the season, you'll see people who have pulled off to take pictures of their kids among the flowers. I even once saw a bridal photo shoot taking place along Interstate 30 and I have to say that the white dress looked gorgeous next to the vivid blue and green. I feel the cockles of my heart being warmed even now!

Just Call Me "Inertia Holmes"

At work on Friday while walking down the hall, I found $15 in cash lying on the floor. (It was a ten and a five.) After looking around and wondering if I was experiencing an Easter morality test or some kind of sociological experiment, I went to the office closest to the found money and asked the girl who works in there (I know her) if she had by chance dropped the cash. It wasn't hers, but she thought it might be one of the other campus recruiter's so off we went to her office. No luck. Girl #1 said that she'd keep the money in her office in case anyone came looking. I continued off on my merry way, but apparently my subconscious was "on the case" because as I was talking to someone else, I realized that it was probably change for a twenty dollar bill. Our office is in the midst of fundraising for March of Dimes and with a five-dollar donation per week, we can wear jeans on Friday. I know the girl in charge of selling jeans stickers, so off I went to her desk. I asked if someone had paid with a twenty and been given a ten and a five back. With a weird expression, she said, "Yeah. How did know that?" I explained what happened and she said while she didn't know the girl's name, she knew about where she sat. We went and found the owner of the cash and reunited her with the moolah. It was a Good Friday, for sure.

Songs and Surprises

So yesterday was my 39th birthday. (Insert sounds of shock and astonishment here.) I know. I know. It's impossible that I'm in my (extremely) late thirties.

I had a really great day, which actually started on Tuesday night when TLS gave me my birthday present...the iPod Touch. It seriously rocks. Love. It. Already. I could give you the whole run-down on the uber coolness of it, but I'm sure it would sound like "blah, blah, blah. iPod blah, blah."

I came to work yesterday and received birthday greetings from many friends and co-workers. I even had some really random people wishing me a happy birthday and was starting to think that some kind of email notification had gone out. I suppose the how or why really doesn't matter since it was just nice to realize that people were thinking of me. (I guess I had a real Sally Field moment. They like me. They really like me.) I went and read to the preschool kids at lunch and while I knew that I'd be smiling the rest of the day, I didn't realize that I'd get some great kid-isms in the bargain.

After finishing my reading (and by the way, I had completely forgotten the real story of the three little pigs, the first two of which get eaten (eaten!) by the wolf and then the wolf tries to trick the third pig out of the house and finally tries to climb down the chimney, falls into the pot of boiling water the pig has placed there and gets eaten (eaten!) by the pig for dinner), here was the conversation.
Me: Do you all know what today is?
Kid #1: Wednesday
Me: (laughing) Yes, but in addition to being Wednesday, it's my birthday.
Kid #2: My mom can make some cupcakes!
Me: (laughing) I don't think that'll be necessary.
Teacher: Let's sing to her.
All kids: (A lovely, if off-key, rendition of Happy Birthday guaranteed to make your heart melt)

About a week ago, TLS asked if I wanted to go to my favorite restaurant, Hibiscus, on the night of my birthday. I, of course, heartily agreed and he told me that he'd take care of getting the reservation. After he called them, he told me that our reservation was for 7:30. I thought this was a little late (since once he picked me up from work at 5:30ish it would only take about 10 minutes to get to the restaurant), but he told me that they were packed because of spring break and that was the only time he could get. (This is why I am the easiest person in the world to plan a surprise for, because I will apparently believe any old bill of goods that you hand me.) To kill some time, we ended up going to Best Buy to find a case for my new iPod Touch. (Have I mentioned my new Touch?!) We got to the restaurant at 7:30 and were shown to our table. As we walked behind the hostess, I kept thinking that we were passing all kinds of open tables in the front but was also excited because I'd never before sat in the more private back room. I had my eye on the small table for two next to the wall but glanced over to see my friend Dorina sitting at another table. I swear to God that my thought was, "Oh! Dorina is eating here tonight, too. What a coincidence." I'm such a dork, because she along with her boyfriend Michael, and my friends Cathy and Kim were there to help us celebrate. We had a fabulous meal. I forced myself to save a couple of my lamb chops to enjoy for dinner tonight and finished it all off with their lavender ice cream. (It sounds revolting, I know. But it is delish! Take my word for it.)

What a full day: good friends, good food, kids singing and surprises. How can you beat that?!

Possible Karmic Reasons I Don't Have A Baby

I was talking with my friend Amy (shout out!) today at lunch. She is pregnant with her third child and at her last doctor visit, they found out that after two girls, they are finally having a boy. (And there was much rejoicing by her husband after that discovery.) They thankfully already have a boy's name picked out that everyone can agree on, which is good because the girl's name issue would have been a tad bit contentious. She had already had an irritated conversation with her sister-in-law which resulted in the S-I-L giving a little sniff and huh?! after each name choice. I try to follow a general rule when someone tells me their (totally insane) baby name choice--I smile and say, "What a beautiful name." (While inside my head I say things like, "Oh dear, sweet lord, what would possess someone to name their baby THAT?!) At our conversation today, I told Amy that if I were pregnant, I would probably make up a completely bizarro fake name to tell people just to get their reactions. (Like Amazonia Jane or Crabapple Pilot) Perhaps karma doesn't have my sense of humor...

How To Know If You're a Sci-fi Nerd

A simple quiz:

Someone gives you an orange tabby cat. You name it:
A) Jones
B) Something besides answer A

Someone mentions the "Kwisatz Haderach". You say:
A) "Arrakis. Desert Planet."
B) "Gesundheit!"

Someone calls you a "nerf herder". You say"
A) "Thank you, Princess Leia."
B) "Huh? A what?"

Someone mentions that they are experiencing a feeling of deja vu. You:
A) Wonder what "They" changed in the matrix.
B) Do nothing and continue on your way.

Someone asks you to make the Vulcan salute. You:
A) Face your palm forward with the fingers parted between the middle and ring finger with the thumb extended and say, "Live long and prosper."
B) Ask, "What's a Vulcan salute?"

Ron Weasley's rat's name is:
A) Scabbers
B) Who's Ron Weasley?

For all A answers, give yourself one point.

For Score 0-2:
Congratulations! You are "normal." Carry on.

For Score 3-4:
You're a sci-fi dabbler. With only a little more effort, you could become a full-fledged nerd.

For Score 5-6:
Welcome to life in the "dork forest"! Can we hang out?

Graduate School Update

I started this blog about the same time that I started the graduate school application process and just realized that I hadn't updated you on how that's going. I'd love to say that millions of things were happening behind the scenes and I just hadn't been sharing them with you, but I'd be lying. Mostly, I was overtaken by a large blob of inertia. (Ooh, that's so out of character, INERTIA GIRL!) The final thing I needed to do was write a one to two page essay on My Statement of Purposes and Goals and I just couldn't seem to compose it. I could write paragraph after paragraph about spiders in the kitchen and what I did for New Years (good lord!) but couldn't seem to get motivated or excited about this thing. Every couple weeks or so, I'd dutifully open up the file and write a few sentences and then I'd get frustrated and leave it for another day. Well, I'm here to say that I think I've finally finished it. I'm still not sure that it's what they are looking for, but I hope that it is good enough. The baby needs to leave the nest so I can get this show on the road. (To mix a metaphor or two...)

Oh, and I know what you're thinking; and no, I'm not going to post the essay here. I don't know why posting about drunken revelry doesn't bother me, but just the thought of putting my purposes and goals out here makes me break into a cold sweat. (All part of being human, I suppose.)

I'll keep you informed when I get the official letter from the school. (Fingers crossed, Internet!)

They Call It Avelox. I Call It The Devil's Antibiotic

So when I went back to the doctor on Monday with my ear re-infection, she gave me the antibiotic Avelox. Unbeknownst to me, this antibiotic has a laundry list of serious side effects. Even after one dose I was having horrible nightmares and insomnia (an unlikely combination, I'll grant you), along with pain in my achilles tendon. Avelox has a history of causing tendonitis and tendon rupture. (Yikes!) The tendon problem is exactly what I didn't need since I spent about two months in a lower leg cast last year trying to avoid foot surgery due to achilles bursitis. (I know. I'm a medical mystery.) So on Wednesday, I called and got them to call me in another antibiotic. I'm now on eyrthromycin and while I have to be sure and take it with some food to avoid nausea, it's much better than what I shall now call "The Devil's Antibiotic." Here's hoping that once I'm finished with this round that I've done my time with the medication for quite some time.

1969 vs. 1983

I realized today that almost all of the general interest blogs I read regularly are written by women in their thirties--women, I must add, that I find inventive, hilarious, erudite, insightful and well-read. Am I drawn to them because of the quality and superiority of insight from women of a similar age or because they are chronicling something universal? I guess what really matters is that they can make me laugh in the same paragraph that they make me face a difficult topic. That's quite an achievement.

I was also thinking about how many smart, beautiful, funny women I have as friends. While many of us are arriving at the end of the 30's "Bell curve" this year, we all are thriving and out to conquer the world (or at least our little corner of it). I've had discussions with several friends about how old we think we are, as opposed to our chronological age. To a one, we all feel like we are in our mid-twenties. Case in point, it was inconceivable to me that my 20-year high school reunion was last September, since in my mind I'm only 25. Why 25? I'm not sure, really. That was the year I got married (good), but also the year I had some job tumult (not so good), and developed a chronic medical condition (very bad), so it can't just be the "highlight of my adult life". I guess at 25 people are just starting to feel like an adult but still not old enough to feel the weight of more middle age problems.

I wonder if hitting the big 4-0 (2009, here I come!) will change my "interior" age. Will I magically and automatically reset to feeling 30 or 35? I guess only time will tell.

It's Not Just For Toddlers Anymore - Part Deux

I woke up this morning with the very familiar sensation of being able to feel the inside of my left eardrum and Eustachian tube. I think that my first antibiotic didn't kill all the nasty bacteria from ear infection part one a couple of weeks ago, and apparently, the ones who survived the onslaught are still around and they are angry! So, another trip to the doctor, another antibiotic script along with one for a steroid pack (that I'm not to start unless the pressure isn't gone in two days). Sigh.

Oh Mighty Fortune Cookie, Give Us Your Wisdom - Part 2

Here was my fortune cookie message at lunch today:

Everyone feels lucky for having you as a friend.

Oh fortune cookie, how you make me feel so loved!

A Cornucopia of the Bizarre

Today's post is a veritable cornucopia of random topics and ideas courtesy of the twisted recesses of my brain. Buckle your proverbial seat belts, it may be a bumpy ride.

Transcript from an actual recent conversation at our house

Scene: A lazy Saturday morning--modern-day suburban kitchen. English muffins have been toasted and are about to be consumed. A large spider makes its way across the ceramic tile.

Me: Eek! Look at the size of that spider!
TLS: Yes, he is rather large.
Me: Squish it! Quick, before he goes behind the buffet.
TLS: (rolling eyes and handing me his plate) Can't I just enjoy my muffin without having to kill something around here?

It may not translate well to the written word, but TLS's deadpan, serious delivery of the line about killing something just slayed me. (No pun intended.) I had a serious laugh attack and made him go write down the fateful quote.

Topic Change

Driving in to work yesterday morning, (yes, TLS and I carpool at least two or three days a week - take that Al Gore!) we heard a blurb about a study done by a sociology professor regarding the long-term effects of spanking on children. I'm going to go on record as saying that I was occasionally spanked during my childhood--although I'm pretty sure that it was only once or twice and I'm definitely sure I deserved it. (Interesting side note: The worst punishment I ever received was when I was about 10 or 11. Neither my mom nor I remember what I had done to be punished, but she was trying to determine what would most affect my future behavior. I was really too old to be deterred by a spanking, so no-go on that option. I spent an awful lot of quality fun time alone in my room, so she couldn't send me there. What to do? What to do? And then the light bulb went on over her head. She grounded me from reading (my ultimate favorite pastime then as now). It was horrible! But I did my time in "bookless solitary" and vowed to to transgress no more, I guess it was punishment well given.)

As reported on the radio, a sociologist determined that children that were spanked were more likely to exhibit antisocial behavior later in life--including "risky sexual behavior". (Here's a link to one article about the research, for your reading pleasure.) I'm pretty sure that what they calling spanking and what I call spanking are not quite the same. They've also lumped in hitting and slapping, which to me are two completely different animals, but who I am to say? Anyway, the reason that I'm including this in the ol' blog is to demonstrate how twisted TLS and I really are. Our response to this information was to immediately start framing how people would account for their bad behavior as adults. Case in point, the report directly following the spanking report talked about how a teenager or group of teenagers had set fire to ten cars during the previous night. We looked at each other and said, "Must have been spanked as children." Roger Clemens doing steroids? "Must have been spanked as a child." I think it's officially our new catch phrase. (Watch it sweep the nation...)

Topic Change

I was talking with Youngest last night and ended up telling her a story from a few years ago. The next door neighbors we had at the time owned two dogs. One of the dogs, Ben, would occasionally start some incessant barking in the middle of the night. (The kind of barking that just sounds bored--woof. ... woof ... woof ........... and just when you thought that he was finally done ... woof. Totally irritating.) It was probably about midnight and Ben was doing his thing. Anyone who knows me knows that when I am trying to sleep and being prevented from doing so that I am not a very pleasant person. Whatever you do, don't stand between Inertia Girl and her sleep. I rolled over, punched TLS and said through clenched teeth, "I don't care what you do, just make that barking stop!" Being the loving spouse that he is, TLS got up, got his BB gun and went out the front door in his tightey-whitey underpants. He was merely going to pop Ben with a BB from a safe distance, thereby scaring him into silence. However, things didn't go quite according to plan. Just as TLS rounded the bushes in front of our bedroom windows, he saw headlights coming down the street. He quickly ducked behind the hedges and watched as Johnny Law rolled by in his squad car. In addition to listening to his own pounding heart, he was having visions of the humiliation of being arrested and seeing the headlines from the local paper. "Local Man Arrested at Gunpoint in his Underpants, Story on page 2" He came back, told me the story and said that I'd have to deal with the problem myself or ignore it. Once I stopped laughing, somehow I didn't mind the barking nearly as much anymore.

Not Just For Toddlers Anymore

It arrived this week, right on schedule: the dreaded yearly ear infection. (Ear infections--they aren't just for toddlers anymore.) I woke up on Tuesday feeling like my left ear was going to explode. I dragged myself to work because I was responsible for the logistics of a training session on Thursday and there was still work much to be done. (Yikes!)

On Tuesday afternoon, after a quick trip to the doctor, ("Yup, that's infected. Did you know you were in here last year at the same time about the same ear?"), the boss lady telling me to go home and go to bed ("You look awful!"), the intermidable wait at the pharmacy for my Z-Pak antibiotics (Can someone explain why it takes 45 minutes to fill a prescription?), a two hour nap (under the electric blanket), an evening on the couch like a big ol' potato (or maybe a pear--or a stalk of asparagus), and going back to bed about 8:00 p.m., I was able to face going to work on Wednesday.

Wednesday afternoon entailed having the facilitators coming in for the next day's training, which really meant getting a call from reception every 15 minutes to go fetch another one, getting them to the appointed conference room, making sure everyone was at least temporarily happy, and then back to the desk to start the process all over again.

Thursday started bright and early here at the office at 7 a.m. You might think that actually getting the session underway and sitting in on it as a participant would end the work, but you'd be wrong, wrong, wrong. ("Can we get someone to turn on the microphone?" and Inertia Girl goes off to find the facilities guy. "We're cold," and I.G. goes to find maintenance to change the temperature. "When is lunch arriving?" Well, you get the picture.) My day didn't end until the last of the ones flying out were in a cab on the way to the airport about 5:30 p.m. TLS called about 5 and asked if I was done with everything. When I said that I still had to get one to a cab, he asked if I was going to carry them down on my back. A good question, TLS, a good question indeed.

I don't want to give anyone the idea that I don't like my job or that I minded doing the things that are included in it, but adding in sickness to the equation almost sent me over the edge. (Oh, but everything went off without a hitch, so all the anal-retentive planning does come in handy sometimes.)

I am glad to be back posting again. Hopefully, you all are too!

Cryptic Messages From My Former Self

In keeping with my anal-retentiveness, I live and die at work by my Franklin Planner. If a to-do isn't in my daily task list, then it probably isn't getting done. If you're not familiar with the concept of the Franklin Planner, it has two pages per weekday. The left side consists of a daily task list and an appointment schedule and the right side is blank with lines, which I use to journal conversations and notes during the day. When I have a task that doesn't need to be done that day, I'll put it on the appropriate day's task list so I won't forget. At some point within the last couple of weeks, I wrote a task on today's page; however, when I looked at the list yesterday afternoon to prepare myself for today, I was confronted with a cryptic message, apparently from a former incarnation of me. Don't get me wrong, it was in English (and in my handwriting) and legible, but I have no idea what it means. None. So if "look for CBK slides" means anything to you, let me know. Otherwise, I'm just hoping that not doing something related to it won't ultimately bite me in the behind.

Happy Valentine's Day, TLS. This post's for you.

As mentioned in the title, this post is an open letter to my dear, sweet husband. Feel free to read along, although groaning and/or eye-rolling will neither be allowed nor tolerated. If you don't like my sappy, emotional sentiments, go and surf some CNN. (This means you, too, TLS! - ha!)

Happy Valentine's Day, TLS. Who knew all those many years ago that a shared sense of the absurd and a love for all things sci-fi would be the foundation of a beautiful long-term relationship? (Almost seventeen years and counting.) While your movie star good looks might have been what initially attracted me, your intelligence, wit, kindness and depth of spirit, and generosity are what made me stay. Oh, and the good looks haven't been a hindrance there, either. (rawr!)

Thank you for who you are and the things you do for me. I can't imagine that scooping kitty litter was ever in your ultimate Bucket List, but you do it just the same. You keep the cars running and the yard mowed. You indulge my decorating whims and take out the trash. You make me laugh on a daily basis. You are a friend and a soul-mate--someone who has shared good times and bad.

When we were standing at the altar, repeating the vows "in sickness and in health...", the sickness seemed to be so far away as to be impossible, but somehow it found us. Often tough times push couples apart, be somehow we managed to come closer. I have a feeling that our use of humor and contant laughter has had something to do with it. And even if my theory is complete and utter malarky, at least we've had fun laughing at our own foibles. (And the strange, strange ways of the world.)

I simply cannot imagine my life without you. Wherever I would have ended up and whoever I turned out to be, wouldn't have been nearly as good or as much fun.

I love you, husband. Here's to many more years together.

Move Over, Barry White...

In honor of Valentine's Day, I've put together a list of songs by some of my favorite sexy, sultry women artists. Feel free to use this playlist during a late night rendezvous with your sweetie:

Norah Jones Turn Me On
Sade No Ordinary Love
Corinne Bailey Rae Like a Star
Alanis Morissette One
Jem Save Me
Sarah McLachlan Plenty
Sia Breathe Me
Sybarite Runaway
Skye What's Wrong With Me?
Imogen Heap I Am In Love With You
Radio Citizen The Hop
Moloko Fun for Me
Gemma Hayes 4:35 a.m.
Frou Frou Let Go
Sarah McLachlan Circle
Jem Come On Closer
Anna Nalick Bleed
Claire Bradley Hallelujah
Poe Hey Pretty
Frou Frou Holding Out for a Hero

50 Odd Things About Me

I'm pretty sure everyone has gotten an email with a list of crazy questions that a friend has answered that asks you to do the same. I thought I'd use the one my friend Pam sent me as fodder for a blog post. (Sneaky, sneaky me.) Her only answer to #25 was my name. Turns out she was right!

1. Do you like bleu cheese? You bet your sweet bippie. I love it.

2. Have you ever smoked heroin? No way. Never even smoked a cigarette

3. Do you own a gun? Yes.

4. What flavor do you add to your drink at sonic? Cherry

5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? Not unless there is a biopsy involved.

6. What do you think of hot dogs? Had one yesterday topped with home made pico de gallo. Yum.

7. Favorite christmas song? Oh Holy Night. (That "fall on your knees" part gets me every time.)

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Water, although lately I've been drinking decaffeinated English Breakfast tea.

9. Can you do push ups? Not really

10. What do you order at Starbucks? I never go there. (gasp!)

11. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? My wedding ring

12. Favorite hobby? Reading. (Or should I say blogging? Or reading blogs?)

13. How do you eat your eggs? Over easy

14. Do you have A.D.D.? No

15. What's one trait that you hate about yourself? Procrastination

16. Middle name? Erin

17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment. "I'm pretty sure I'm boring the pants off everyone reading this." "I still can't decide if I like the skirt I'm wearing today." "Do I HAVE another thought?"

19. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink? Water, Decaffeinated English Breakfast tea, and uh, water.

20. Current worry right now? What am I getting my sister-in-law for her birthday this week

21. Current hate right now? Politics. Wake me up for the general election.

22. Favorite place to be? Grizzly Lake, Colorado

23. How did you bring in the New Year? Comatose. See this post for details.

24. Where would you like to go? Scotland, Ireland, Iceland, Patagonia (Southern Argentina)

25. Name three people who will complete this: Not applicable, since I'm not sending it out via email...

26. Do you own slippers ? Yes. Do I wear them? No.

27. What shirt are you wearing? Red, Anne Taylor LOFT, scoop neck sweater

28. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets? Can't say as I ever have, but they don't sound very comfortable.

29. Can you whistle? Yes

30. Favorite color?(s) Blue.... no, yellow...aughhh! (I know probably only 4 people got that obscure reference). Blue.

31. Would you be a pirate? No. Swashbuckling, I ain't.

32. What songs do you sing in the shower? Whatever song/jingle is running through my head at the moment. "Look for the big yellow truck..."

33. Favorite girl's name? Sophie Quinn

34. Favorite boy's name? Harper Sean

35. What's in your pocket right now? No pockets, but if I were wearing jeans, there would probably be some random receipt I've stuck in my back pocket.

36. Last thing that made you laugh? TLS. He cracks me up.

37. Best bed sheets as a child? Noah's ark.

38. Worst injury you've ever had? Cracked the top of my humerous while falling off a rope swing in a friend's back yard in the 7th grade.

39. Do you love where you live? Yes, aside from the bad roads and the crazy red-neck neighbors across the side street

40. How many TVs do you have in your house? 4, including the one in the garage that TLS watches when he's working out there.

41. Who is your loudest friend? Matt W.

42. How many dogs do you have? Three. Do you want one?

43. Who do you hope has a crush on you? TLS

44. What are you getting your valentine this year? Probably a card. We've turned into the couple that doesn't buy each other gifts, which seems to work well for us.

45. What is your favorite book? Oh, good grief. That is seriously like asking a mother which child is her favorite. I am fairly partial to Ann Patchett's Bel Canto. Check it out.

46. What is your favorite candy? Before I stopped eating chocolate, it was probably Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, since then it's Starburst.

47. Favorite Sports Team? Dallas Cowboys

48. What song do you want played at your Funeral? I think in lieu of music, that I'd just like people to tell funny stories about me and laugh.

49. What were you doing at 12 AM last night? Having a nightmare about living in a haunted house. It featured a rocking chair that was rocking on its own and it was seriously creepy.

50. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up? "Thank God that dream wasn't real."

Geek Alert!

I was checking the programs scheduled to record on our DVR last night and saw that The Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show starts next Monday, February 11th at 7 p.m. Central Time on USA. For the uninitiated, this is the premier dog show in the U.S. and goes on for two nights. You get to see each dog judged and for the nerdy dog lover (count me in!), it is the highlight of the year. I'm really not doing it justice, but take my word for it, it's cool. Whatever you do, though, don't call me next Monday or Tuesday night; I'll be on my couch rooting for the Rhodesian Ridgeback to win Best in Show.

Excuse me, do you know that you look like X?

Do you ever play the party game of trying to identify what celebrity you look most like? TLS is a dead-ringer for an actor, Matt McCoy. While Mr. McCoy doesn't have instant name recognition, you've probably seen him in something over the years. (He was the father in The Hand that Rocks the Cradle, played Lloyd Braun on the TV show Seinfeld, and for other sci-fi geeks like me, was Devonini Ral on Star Trek: The Next Generation.) Here's a link to Matt McCoy's picture.

TLS once had a complete stranger in a mall stop him and ask if he was "that guy. that guy from Star Trek" so it isn't just me that thinks he resembles Matt McCoy.

I've had people tell me I look like Meg Ryan, a young Susan Sarandon (whew! I'm glad they put the young in there!), and just a few weeks ago, Sarah Polley, who is a famous actress in Canada. I'm not sure what those three women have in common physically, but it must be that elusive "Inertia Girl" quality.