When did you go to bed on Friday night?
(That’s right – I’m too lazy to actually write anything.)
When did you go to bed on Friday night?
(That’s right – I’m too lazy to actually write anything.)
by Lauren 7 Comments
So, it was after 9p.m., when I should be getting ready for bed, but I had to go to Wal-Mart. *groan* I took along my camera, though, just in case I found something post-worthy so you wouldn’t have to look at another picture of my mail.
Driving along, the road looked as though we had some really sporadic rain. The street along one block would be wet, the next street dry, etc. I finally figured it out when I saw an open fire hydrant.
Coming home, I saw it in action! Two workers had a fire hydrant open at full throttle! I drove through the torrential downpour, turned the car around, dug out the camera….. and by the time I was close enough to take a non-blurry photo it was already off.
Dang.
You miss the mail, don’t you?
by Lauren 3 Comments
We had a mysterious letter delivered to the CDC – an unmarked envelope full of stencils – and it’s so exciting because it’s the closest I’ll ever get to a CSI-style investigation, with the exception of “Who got out all these blocks and left them here?” (I always know full well who got them out. I’m looking at you, Devyn.)
Exhibit A (from the address on the front of the envelope): White-out on the ‘N’. Why? Why? Was it initially lower-case and they meant to change it to an uppercase, or is this some sort of clue?
Exhibit B (also from the envelope): ‘NB’. There hasn’t been a state abbreviation change since 1963, when Nebraska was changed to NE instead of NB, to avoid confusion with ‘New Brunswick’ – like that’s even a real place. (Thank you, Wikipedia.) Ergo and heretofore, the sender learned his/her abbreviations before the early 60’s.
Exhibit C: Homemade stencils, mostly cut from sturdy food cartons.
Exhibit D: Er, Lack of Exhibit D: No note. Just the stencils.
Lack of Exhibit E: No return address.
Conclusion: Unidentified sweet older lady good-heartedly shares her bounty with little children.
No crime here, people. Move along.
by Lauren 6 Comments
Happy Birthday, Phil!
Here’s something you don’t see everyday: I had to buy some printer ink in Lincoln today, and got to visit two geese that were hanging out in the parking lot of Office Depot.
How very, very surreal.
Two geese walked into an office supply store…..
by Lauren 6 Comments
I’ve spoken many a time about how shopping is difficult for me. I don’t like any part of it, so when I find something I like – I buy several. My pants are all the same Sonoma brand from Kohl’s – same style, different colors; Target shirts are all Merona; socks are all Smartwool, etc.
It’s the same way with shoes. You probably saw in the closet swathing that I had several pair of my ‘man shoes’. I have seven pair of Josef Siebel, to be exact. Six in rotation (two black, three brown, one tan) and one pair (black) in reserve. Every year I add a new pair to the mix.
It’s not my fault – I have weird feet and if the shoe fits…. heh heh. Truly, if you find something that works, why keep looking, right? You don’t see me out there looking at new husbands, right?
I also have a pair of Skechers sandals that I like very much. They’re wearing out so I went online and ordered two more pairs from ShoeBuy to keep in the closet for future summers. The problem was, the heels were slightly different – too high. These were basically my sandal in a ‘wedge’ style, and while I can appreciate how other people like wedge shoes, I simply can’t get on board with them. (By the time I step out of my box and embrace the style, they will no longer be stylish. C’est la vie.)
ShoeBuy has a free return policy, and while I was putzing around waiting to send the two pair back, I managed to snag the last two pair of regular sandals that will ever be made in the old style, ever again.
So here I am with all these boxes, getting two of them ready to return, and Lloyd looked at them said, “You’re as bad as the people on that show. You’re a shoe hoarder. You’re a shoarder.”
I am.
I am.
by Lauren 9 Comments
Lloyd had to go to a conference this week and while packing his travel stuff, he saw that his little tube of toothpaste was empty.
Lloyd: “I’ll need to get another one, unless you want to refill this one.”
Then he chuckled, like it was funny. Then he got quiet, and looked at me fearfully.
Lloyd: “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”
Of course I was going to do it, and I did it.
Let’s all get past the ‘mama bird barfing into the mouth of the baby bird’ imagery that this conjures up, and congratulate me on getting .85 ounces into that little tube without squirting 2.3 ounces all over our hideously pink countertop. It was surprisingly easy, and while I might try it once again, I think that after two refills the integrity of the smaller tube might suffer and burst along one of the sides. Only time will tell.