Super freaky

I'm a total freak in the bed. But not the way you think. Filthy minded people. I swear.

I'm what most would consider a high-maintenance sleeper, or HMS for short. While some of you could sleep easily at a active bomb testing facility, I require certain conditions in order to get any sleep.

For example:

I prefer the room to be cold. Not teeth chattering cold, but cool enough that a light comforter is sufficiently comfortable. If, for any reason, I wake and am too hot or too cold, I will have to fidget with the thermostat to get the correct ambient temperature. Most people that stay over complain it is too cold for their liking. I prefer a lovely 72-74 degrees, with a fan on. If you don't like it, dress warmer. Pussy.

To give you an example of when I was too cold, was when I was on vacation with WH. The thermostat apparently had two settings- bitter or bite-ass cold. I am a cover thief and will steal every shred of blanket, comforter or sheet you may have. WH sensed this and sufficiently cocooned himself up in the blankets , successfully foiling any attempts I may have had at thievery. Smart bastard.

Because I am a cover thief, I advise you to bring a backup. Not that you having a backup blanket will prevent me from stealing, but it may help stave off the hypothermia. If, however I detect you have a blanket and I want it, at some random time during the night, I will begin to tug until I have the entire blanket. I will then roll up in the blanket, thus preventing you from stealing it back. Apparently this is all done subconsciously. I'm not totally vicious. I don't do it on purpose per se. Its just that my comfort is more important to me than yours is, that's all. Its nature versus nurture. Apparently, my brain is more geared to nature while sleeping.


I can't sleep with any noise in the room. No radio, no movies, laptop etc. I dont have a tv in my bedroom, and I prefer it that way. If I do fall asleep in front of the tv, I do not sleep well. You wouldn't either if Ronco food dehydrators invaded your dreams. One of my friends stayed over a few months ago, and they farted in their sleep and woke me up. Im not telling you this to give you the impression the gas was so explosive it woke me. Im here to tell you that it was barely audible, yet it disturbed my slumber. It is the princess and the pea syndrome. Im a light sleeper-- so quiet please.

Im not one of those let-your-animal-sleep-in-the-bed type people. Not only am I asthmatic, I don't need any competition for blankets or space on the bed. I have a tendency to roll around a lot and fidget to get comfortable. The last thing I need is to kick the cat across the room on accident. Once when I was in college I stayed with a friend that had rats as pets. She would let the rats sleep in the bed. I imagined that was what it must be like to live in the projects. I asked her if she minded recording an audio track of gun shots and car alarms to play as we tried to sleep so I could get the full experience. For some reason she was offended, I dont know why.

I talk in my sleep on occasion. This is usually when Im under duress. The duress could be from many different things, but mostly from someone disturbing my sleeping routine.

I need just the right arrangement of pillows. Two medium-fluffy under my head, and one to hug. I also need just the right blanket. Usually that means a soft comforter, but in the absence of that, I can settle for one light blanket -as long as it isnt scratchy.

I am guaranteed to make at least two, possibly more, bathroom trips during the night. I apparently have a small bladder, which needs frequent emptying. These emptying intervals can almost be measured by the clock. One taking place at approximately 3 am, and again at 645 am.

I like to sleep in total darkness, which means that even the smallest bit of light is unacceptable. Not only is a nightlight bothersome, but any shred of outside light at all is most irritating. I dislike it so much, I dont even turn on the bathroom light for my emptying intervals. Some of the other items can be negotiated, however the darkness issue I am most insistent about. Whenever I have friends stay over, if they want to read and I want to sleep, we have a problem. I did the hospitable thing and bought a nice reading lamp for the patio though. Enjoy. In the event of inclement weather, or to avoid the typical whining of "But its cold out here, please let me in.", I bought a lovely sleeping mask to wear that says DO NOT DISTURB.

In summary, I'm a total pain in the ass to sleep with. Not only could this be part of the reason why I dont get a lot of sleep, it could be one of the reasons Im single.

That reminds me. Its time for bed.

Radar Detectors

WH purchased me something for Christmas that I needed.

A radar detector.

Now technically speaking, one could discern that owning a radar detector could be considered premeditated speeding.

I prefer to think of it as being a proactive driver. After all, I, as a citizen should have the right to know if Im being monitored by radar. Even if my speed is within legal limits, if I am being radar scanned (or not), Id like to know. Especially for out of state driving when out of state drivers are sometimes unfairly ticketed.

The RD ( radar detector) doesn't really provide much of an advantage though, especially seeing as there are RDD's ( radar detector detectors). RDD's act as a countermeasure against radar detectors and have the capability to detect a detector.

However, Most of the earlier stealth RD's have a RDD detector circuit, so that is like RD to the fourth power. It can detect the detector that is detecting it. If an RDD is detected, the RD shuts down its primary radar receiver so it cannot be detected at that time by the RDD. HA!

How do you know, that you know, that you know that you know, what you know.
Ya know?


In either event, I have been maintaining a safe speed, and been careful. I have learned my lesson, but I will still use the radar detector-- for principle. ;)

The Gingerbread Projects

Leave it to me to be all holly jolly and crap and try to do something festive. I go to the store and buy one of those Gingerbread House kits. I thought, how cute. Ill make a house to take in to work.

Knowing how often I bake and cook ( almost never) you should already be able to anticipate how this will turn out. My strategy so far has been to take the time and effort that I know is required to learn how to cook, and instead devote that time and effort to perfecting my drinking skills, which I have to say, has paid off. I'm quite good at that.

Well as I begin to assemble my gingerbread house, I realize something has went awry. The icing isnt setting well and the walls of the house resemble something post Hurricane Katrina. The slanting of the walls causes the roof to sit crooked and the whole "house" has more of a ghetto shack feel to it.

My goal at this time was not to make it pretty (as its too late for that) but to try to stabilize it.

As I struggle to keep the walls on, part of my roof collapses. Once that is resolved , I move on and realize I have extra ginger bread. I attempt to make a smaller house. Yeah. GREAT idea. I'm using candy canes to prop the walls up and realize this has now turned into the Gingerbread Projects instead.

OSHA would not be pleased.

The longer I wrestle with it, the worse it gets. It actually looks as if I put it together one handed and blind folded. I wish I could say I had been drinking, but I wasn't. The icing appears as if I shot it from across the room in some brazen attempt at Xtreme Ginga Bread building. The gum drops and the M & M's dress it up a little, but that's like putting a bow on a pile of shit--- It just doesn't help.

The cats sit in the floor curiously trying to determine why I seem so pissed off. Actually the fact that I am home, making a gingerbread house alone, while two cats watch me is sad enough all by itself.

As I look at the shack on the counter I resigned to the fact that my career fall back in building construction is not going to work. I may need to consider other opportunities such as wine sommelier or professional rodeo clown.

I would take pictures of the monstrosity, but I cant find my camera, which is for the best.

All this construction is making me tired.Nighty night.

Tickets and surprise searches

Some of you may know that lately I have received more than my fair share of speeding tickets. My work husband J always receives a lecture. In talking to my friend Marcus, there may be a new way to get out of a ticket.

Marcus was headed here to see his girlfriend for a special weekend. They have been having problems and he thought it would be good to spend time together. He was running late and asked his roommate to put his bags in the car while he called a client back. Unbeknownst to Marcus, his roomie placed some special gifts in his bag.

Marcus heads out. He drives like I used to; Fast. He is pulled over north of Orlando.

When the cop pulled him over, he was clocked at 95 in a 70. Apparently, 25 miles over gives the cop the right to take you to jail for reckless driving. It seems this was going to be the case.

The cop came to Marcus's driver's side window and issued the standard, "Do you realize how fast you were going" speech, while Marcus acted remorseful, hoping he could somehow get out of this ticket.

Because of the excessive speed, the cop said he'd have to arrest him. Arrangements were quickly made for a tow truck to come fetch Marcus's jeep, and the cop continued to lecture him. He handcuffed him and made him stand aside as he proceeded to inspect the car for the possibility of adding other charges. He began rifling through the overnight bag in the back seat, pulling out clothes, shaving kit, shoes...and a very, very large, black, rubber dildo.

The cop froze in place, uncomprehending at first, holding it by the base as the upper 10 inches of the phallic beast lazily swayed back and forth. Marcus, handcuffed, stood there horrified and embarrassed, mouth agape, staring at the motionless police officer and "the beast", still swaying in the wind.

I picture this moment happening in slow-motion, with the cop's first thought, "What is this? What IS this? What the...no. No. NO!" And his second thought, "God knows where this thing has been! Gross! I've got to wash my hands right now." The cop dropped the beast, clearly disgusted, and continued to sift through the bag, while Marcus thought to himself, "Well, the worst has happened, there can't be anything more in there for him to find." Then the cop pulled out two gay porn tapes.

Marcus isn't gay, nor does he like to partake in the viewing pleasure of gay porn. However, his roomie thought it would be funny to place those items in Marcus's bag.

By now the cop must have thought Marcus was some kind of twisted pervert on his way to a big gay orgy of some kind.

The delay of the officer searching Marcus's belongings allowed for enough time for an accident to occur on I-4 which required police backup to route traffic. Because of the accident, Marcus was released and given a stern warning. The cop tossed Marcus's filthy bag of gay orgy paraphernalia onto the roadside and sped away.

Marcus then called me and we plotted revenge against his roommate. I finally lamented that really his roommate did him a favor, and we shouldnt get him back at this time. Marcus and I still wonder why his roommate had gay porn and the "beast", but we will save those thoughts for another time.

WTF?

Wow. This is a special kind of stupid. I bet Id still get a damn ticket, no matter what my choice was.

Aachoo!

I think I'm getting sick. I have the chills, I cant sleep and when I do sleep, I dream of HIM or have nightmares. (lest I repeat myself)

I cannot get sick right now. The second week in December, I can be sick. Please notice how I'm bargaining-- as if that will work. Cross your fingers and hope for me.

I'm having those weird-did-i -have-magic-mushrooms-in-my-soup dreams. Picture it. Apparently, I have a 6 year old kid. News to me. The kid was a complete smart ass. So I suppose he could be mine. The kids name is Dylan. Then enter HIM. Why is he there ? Then enter a haunted hotel that I recently stayed at in Salem MA, and ghosts and demons. How strange and bizarre. I'll trade you creepy scary dreams for Rainbows and Kittens.

I'm going to try to go to bed. I hope I don't dream of him tonight. It just makes my heart sad and I don't know why. Sigh. Must be the fever.

Fun in the snow in Alaska