We open on a woman who does not want to get out of bed. Ehhhh, I'm tired of this literary writing already so I'm going to fall back on my favorite way of explaining things - the list.
1. I lost Bono's guitar pick. It's my good luck charm & I have managed to keep it safe for almost 15 years so there were a couple of quick tears shed for this. If I haven't made you suffer through my dramatic tellings of every U2 concert I've been to, you are a lucky soul ("And then Edge raaaaaan past on the catwalk like a bolt of lightning & even though he was wearing sunglasses & the spotlights were blinding me & he was facing the other direction, I'm pretty sure he winked at me ..."). If you have listened to my tall tales (actually they are all true, my enthusiasm just gets OUT OF CONTROL)(if you were a U2 fan, you'd get the double meaning) then you'll remember that in Atlanta with Joy, Bono jumped onto the audience - security was hanging onto the back of his pants & he was hovering over our heads like a Thanksgiving day parade float & if I weren't such a polite lady, I could have poked him in his hoo-ha. Do men have hoo-has? I could have poked him in his crotch nonetheless. But I didn't so the Lord blessed my respectful self by making Bono drop a guitar pick that got wedged in the mat below our feet & Joy kept her eye on this pick the rest of the show until the place emptied out enough for her to grab it away before the only other person in the place who noticed it could get it. I never noticed it - I was still coming down from my holy experience of being so close to Bono hovering above me ... & regretting not poking him in the crotch.
ANYWAY, somehow I ended up with the guitar pick. I'm pretty sure it's because Joy is the most awesome lady in the world & knew that since I would marry Bono one day (whoops) I deserved the pick as a pseudo promise ring - I would totally have given her Larry's drumstick by the same rationale if he happened to fling one our way. Of course it would probably would have had to be surgically removed from my eye or something because drumsticks are dangerous. When Joy & I reconnected a few months ago, I made sure to apologize just in case I snatched it from her in some Gollum-esque frenzy but she didn't remember & just assumed she gave it to me. I don't know what grown-up world she lives in that she doesn't remember every painful moment of adolescent stalkertude but we'll just go with that.
ANYWAY x 2 -- So, I lost the pick. It was always kept tucked away in the coin section of my wallet so it was with me but safe & I could see it when I was paying for things. I apparently forgot to zip that section of my wallet because I pulled the wallet out of my purse yesterday & coins rained down all over the place & I spent the next hour desperately trying to find the pick - pulling out the couch, checking under all the cushions, being disgusted by what was under the cushions, vacuuming under the cushions, picking up everything in the loungeroom ... no luck. Seriously, NO luck. It's my lucky charm so without it I had no luck. Get it?
Marcel - who I depend on to find everything I lose - just happened to find the pick this morning. On the driveway, right beside my car. Weird. Must find someplace special for that thing since the zippy change compartment has let me down.
Did you forget I was making a list? I forgot so now have to remember what the hell I was talking about before I went off on my U2 concert tangent. Ahhh yes, the bad day....
2. The dog (Jack)(remember Jack, the giant greyhound?) snapped at Ben. I'd been keeping them out of each other's faces for the past few days because Ben was sick of being knocked over but yesterday Jack fell asleep on the rug in front of the TV while I was folding clothes on the couch & Ben was running around with his toys. Ben kept tripping over Jack but the dog ignored him so I thought we were all cool. But Ben stepped on Jack's back foot & that dog lunged back & growled/snapped/grew devils' horns like he was possessed. Luckily Ben fell back - if he had fallen forward he would be missing half his face. I took the dog outside, cuddled my little man & the dog went back to the fostering program a few hours later. Ain't havin' that in my house with my son.
And don't get me wrong, I am totally a dog person & realize you don't mess with a sleeping dog, a dog's feet & dogs can snap when they feel threatened so this was a perfect storm. Heaven knows he was the most peaceful dog before that & he'll probably never do it again but Benny boy comes first so the dog had to go.
3. I slipped while putting laundry detergent up on the shelf & ended up with half a box of laundry powder down my shirt & in my bra. No further explanation needed.
4. Marcel called right before he was supposed to be done with work & asked "Are you ready for the Bay?" Huh? What? We had talked about going out to eat with some friends - one of whom is an old friend of Marcel's who lives overseas & is in town for the moment - at a wonderful, wonderful, yummy, scrumptious restaurant called The Bay. Nobody (*cough*Marcel*cough*) told me it was going to be last night so I was in my worst house-cleaning/workout clothes reeking of flowery detergent & still fuming over the pick & the dog, just looking forward to going to the gym & going to bed early with a book. But then I really wanted to hang out with everybody & eat good food. But then I'm trying not to eat so much good food so I can lose some weight. And I haaaate taking Ben out to restaurants after his bedtime because Godzilla comes to life & I spend my whole time trying to prevent him from destroying Tokyo & no time having grown-up conversation or enjoying my yummy food. So I stayed home, Ben stayed up a little late because he has now started having an evening poop & he can't get to sleep until that's been taken care of (grrrrrr) but I did get to bed with my book & fell asleep right after 9pm.
5. Because the pick wasn't located until late this morning, the bad luck continued to a 2nd day. I ordered an awesome bathing suit online (shut up, how could that possibly go wrong??) after weeks of researching & trying to find exactly what I wanted. On sale, measurements matched, in stock, ordered, paid, ready to go, confirmation email received, second email received that said it was backordered so now I have no idea when I'll have that bathing suit so I had to send an obnoxious, but kindly worded email, to basically say "D-U-D-E, it literally said it was IN stock when I ordered it. Don't pull the bait & switch now, jerks. If I can't get it before my vacation, CANCEL IT because that sucks! ButIreallywantthesuitsopleasegetitformebecauseaSpanxbathingsuitsoundslikeheaventhankyou." I'll keep you posted on this drama as more information is received.
So yeah, there was more general suckiness & lots of laundry & house cleaning & couldn't go to the gym but now that the pick has been located, surely my luck should change. Ben wouldn't go down for his morning nap but now he's sleeping so that is an obvious pick connection.
But now I'm looking forward. Well, as soon as this whiny blog is written I will be looking forward. Many errands to run, so much more house cleaning to do, groceries to be bought, menus to be planned & mucho gymming to be done. Are you ready for a big claim? You better be ready because here it comes ...
I have 17 days until I leave for America. I have not yet lost enough weight to fit back into my skinny jeans, which was my goal. There is a chance I have lost no weight whatsoever but I'm feeling more fit but who really cares because all my jeans are still tight & those skinny jeans can't be convinced to shimmy anywhere over my chubby hips. Because of sickness & then some laziness & Marcel's availability to watch Ben, I have only been to the gym once this week. Henceforth & therein (huh?), here comes my bold claim so stand back ---- I, Ashley blah blah Eisele, will be going to the gym EVERY DAY for the next 17 days. I don't care if it's just to curl up on the treadmill for a nap, my ass will be in that gym every damn day. I don't expect to fit into my skinny jeans after 17 days - chances are it will take 17 months to lose the mess that has settled on to my body but I feel like really pushing myself for what may be the first true fitness challenge of my life, my Everest if you will. Bye bye lazy lady. Hello weird girl that went to the gym 17 days in a row.
Okay, enough for now. Ben's still asleep so I think I may take a few minutes rest to read & mentally prepare for my first of 17 consecutive trips to the gym tonight. I can feel your anticipation so I'll keep a log of how I survive the arduous task & if/when the people who work at the gym realize what I'm up to & hoist me on their muscly shoulders with a cry of huzzah! Maybe not, but this guy will be proud -
Bono, Popmart 1997
(he's probably still trying to find the guitar pick he lost in Atlanta, poor guy)