We're boarding this cat (spoiled rotten; but the alternative is to come home to a bird blood bath) and we're going on a cruise (tomorrow)! I'm so excited (wahoo!) to get out of dodge with my honey (husband of my dreams) and take a week to decompress. (Plus, they have cheese plates on cruise ships! I love cheese!)
You know the phrase “it never hurts to ask”? Do people really mean that? I, for one, think that it does hurt to ask sometimes. Sometimes people say “no” and that can be unpleasant for both the inquisitor and the respondent.
Now maybe it just hurts me because I’m kind of a highly sensitive person, but I really wish people would start saying something more like: “if you want to increase the probability of getting what you want, perhaps you should ask—even if it crushes your heart into millions of pieces and makes you realize that everyone hates you”. See, isn’t that a bit more realistic?
(Okay, don’t worry, my heart has not been crushed into millions of pieces and I do have friends, this phrase has just been running through my head and pestering me.)
People often ask me what it is like to have an “insulin reaction” (low blood sugar).
Sometimes it feels like I have the flu and I’m totally unable to function.
More mild reactions feel more like I’ve had a couple of beers and can’t think quite straight. I had one of those yesterday and ended up with this: 
Cereal in my Coke. Yumm?
Later on, after having eaten some sugar and having put cereal in a bowl as I had originally intended, I sat down to read some blogs and instead got this: 
Seriously—this is Pavlov’s cat. He hears the chink of a spoon in a bowl and then bounds inside and waits anxiously for the little bit of milk that we leave in the bottom of the cereal bowl. He’s a dork. (Oh, and he really doesn't have that snotty look on his face--he's very cute, but the camera flash makes him blink so I can't ever get a picture of him with his eyes open.)
One last story for today. Let me preface this by saying that my husband helps around the house a lot especially with dishes and laundry, making the bed and edging the lawn. Plus he does all of the hard things that I'm to chicken to do like bug bombs and sprinklers and sawing big limbs. I’m very appreciative of his help and am in no way discounting it by telling this adorable story.
I was in California last weekend. I got home Sunday night and was home for just long enough to sleep; then Craig and I went to northern Idaho for three days. Upon returning home, I set to cleaning the house. As I was going into the dining room to sweep the floor, Craig cornered me and we had the following conversation (more or less)
Craig: Oh, by the way, Charlie spilled some chocolate milk. (5 days before)
Maryn: (Laughs) okay, I’m guessing you’re telling me this because you didn’t clean it up
Craig: (a little defensively—and really cutely) no! I did clean it up. I put towels down on the milk!
Maryn: (looking around the corner at the floor) And then you left them there
Craig: Yes. 
I love my husband so so much.
Craig...Sangria...Mongolian BBQ...VW...cards...and The Eels (though you can't hear them in the picture).
It doesn't get better than that.
P.S. Forgive the attrocious color combinations that I've got on the blog today. It will get better soon.
This morning Craig and I were discussing plans for Saturday and since things have been quite chaotic lately, we are planning a lazy weekend—specifically, we’d discussed renting a movie. That’s the background for the following Instant Messaging exchange. Ahem.
Maryn says:
How much money do you have left from the fair?
Craig says:
$28
Maryn says:
thanks
Maryn says:
so, you’ve got mad money (Craig’s $20 that he always has in his wallet) and $8
Maryn says:
well, at least we all had fun at the fair…for $100
Craig says:
agreed
Craig says:
$100, really!?
Maryn says:
yep
Craig says:
yipes
Maryn says:
no kidding
Maryn says:
well, anyway...
Maryn says:
so, now you have $8 to rent a movie and buy a treat for our stay at home date tomorrow :-)
Craig says:
date tomorrow?
Maryn says:
oh, remember how we talked about staying home and watching a movie on Saturday?
Craig says:
TOMORROW IS THURSDAY
Maryn says:
&$%*
Maryn says:
rofl
Maryn says:
so it is
Craig says:
LOL
Craig says:
sorry
Maryn says:
that's cool
Sigh...don't you hate it when you think it is Friday--and it is really Wednesday? The sad thing is that I'll probably forget again before the day is over.
I’ve worn a watch EVERY day religiously for as long as I can remember. I’m thinking that it has been since I was about 12…and before that I wore one at least semi-religiously. So, I’ve been completely dependent up on a watch for at least 15 years—I mean--I go nuts if I forget it. Besides being a time keeper, my watch acts as my life management system as I time most things that I do. This rigidity has also contributed to my anxiety (and not in a good way).
Anyway, a few weeks ago I lost my watch. Don’t even ask me how this is possible, I still think my husband hid it from me. (Just kidding Honey.) I do have two backup watches, but one has a really annoying watchband and the other has a dead battery. For some bizarre reason I forgot my backup watch one day and that night didn’t look at the clock to see what time it was when I went to sleep. (Another compulsive behavior I have is to count the number of hours I’m going to sleep when I close my eyes to sleep.) It was the weirdest thing when, the next morning Craig asked me when I went to sleep. I had no idea! I had read a blog post written by a diabetic girl who said that she never wears a watch because her pump has a clock on it. I think I had this in the back of my head and I felt so liberated by not knowing when I’d gone to bed that I deliberately did not wear my watch that day and then didn’t wear it the next day and the next day and it has now been about two weeks since I’ve worn a watch. SO WEIRD
Life is so much more enjoyable when you only look at the clock when you NEED to know what time it is rather than compulsively checking the time every 10 minutes (or every three minutes if I’m bored). I’ve been running without a watch. Seriously, you should try it. Running is more fun when you can’t look at your watch every two minutes. It is actually relaxing. I’m aware that my performance will probably suffer in doing this, but um, I’m not exactly the performance running type. I’m more the—I’ve made the general observation that old people who have made exercise a lifelong routine seem to be more healthy—runner.
Yes, I do think it is mildly annoying to both Craig and I when we need to know what time it is as either he has to get his phone out or I have to get my pump out, but seriously—it is worth it! You should try it…but don’t blame me if you are late for work
Our cat--Ottoman--has proven himself to be quite the hunter of moths and spiders. This has come to my great satisfaction as I have an irrational paranoia surrounding moths. I'm afraid that I may have encouraged his behaviour a little too much because he's found other things with which to play...none quite so helpful as moths and spiders.
We woke up Saturday morning and found an earthworm on our bedroom floor. It was in four pieces. A worm? Really Otto?
We came home from a VW event on Friday night, I rushed in the house to visit the bathroom and almost wet myself when I looked in the toilet and found a bird (gross!) It was not a small bird either. I don't know whether it is normal for cats to put their prey in water, but Otto routinely deposits all of his toys in his water dish when he's done playing. Weirdo.
This morning I woke up and could hear Otto playing with something...turned out to be a baby bird. Come on Otto. Pick on someone your own size.
I am at a total loss as to what to do about this. I mean, I'm glad my cat has found a hobby that he enjoys, but cleaning up animal carcases really isn't my thing. He's lucky he's so freaking sweet (to me anyway...perhaps not so much to other animals).
We had arrived at our campsite on Friday night, had started a fire, popped the camper top, and thrown rocks into the river.
Craig: Guess what we forgot.
Maryn: Oh blank (insert your favorite curse word.) The kids' bed.
Note to self. When taking the kids camping, remember to put their bed in the camper.
Fortunately we were at Grime's Creek rather (45 minutes away) than Challis (5 hours away)--as originally planned.
Craig and I like to play games. I like it when Craig wins. I like it when I win. Craig likes it when I win. He, however, doesn’t care much about winning himself. Additionally, I HATE to win unfairly.
Sometimes Craig will try to give me a sympathy wedge in Trivial Pursuit if I got the question half right, or took two guesses to come up with the correct answer. I’m not really sure why, but I hate doing this. I simply hate to win unless it is 100% valid.
We’ve been playing Skip-Bo frequently lately and I’ve been experiencing quite the winning streak. My great luck had surprised me a little as Skip-Bo is a game of a lot of luck and a little skill and I don’t often excel in the skill area. We finished up a round on Tuesday night and as we were cleaning up the cards, we had this little exchange.
Craig: have you ever noticed how you always draw a bunch of Skip-Bo cards right at the end of the game?
Maryn: Yeah, I guess so, weird, huh?
Craig and Maryn continue to clean up cards.
Maryn: Wait a second, you’ve been cheating, haven’t you? How are you cheating?!
Craig: Well, you don’t really pay attention when I am drawing, so I hoard the Skip-Bo cards and then slip them onto the top of the pile after I draw, so then you draw them on your next turn.
...yep, that's just how sweet he is. Cheater.
