I am one spoiled mama and had a WONDERFUL Mother's Day. (Yes, this is way late, but who's counting???)
I spent the day in bed, binging on Netflix and watching movies, and even NAPPED. I received the most amazing gifts, and had my most favorite meal; melt-in-your-mouth grilled venison tenderloin prepared by (the bestest husband in the entire world EVER) my love.
My GORGEOUS Mother's Day balloon from my Hai. 💜
My beautiful tulips, which are one of my favorite flowers! 💐🌷 (You can see my Reese's and cards too.)
My gift bag filled with hand-made cards and gifts from my babies. I also got the cutest mini mason jars from Hai, a gift certificate for a pedi from my girls, and the new Star Wars Force Awakens from everyone. 😊
Here are some of the cards from my babes:
And this is the movie in hand-made wrapping paper from my love:
💜💙💚💛❤️
I couldn't have had a more perfect day! Honestly and truly, it was PERFECT. I felt so spoiled and loved.
Lastly, I printed these out for my mom:
I was even able to get a pic with Hailey, which is SO RARE!
And I feel alone in discovering this realization. Perhaps I see the world differently? Perhaps I see the world wrongly. Perhaps I need my vision checked, or even fixed. Or maybe, JUST maybe, I have a brilliant mind that can see things that escape the eyes of others. (I am conscientiously omitting the belief which I'm leaning towards...but honestly I'm quite unsure myself.)
Seriously though!
Even Justin is like, "Come on guys...seriously?".
I need to know, does Tim Burton look like Steve Carell in disguise, or doesn't he?! The nose, the mouth. I'm not saying they're spot-on lookalikes, I'm saying they look similar enough to pose as the other in disguise. That's all I'm saying.
Have I lost my mind? Am I just plain seeing things? Or NOT seeing things?!
As of yet I've been alone in this. I expected some "yessssss"s, or "OMG he DOES"s, or even simply a polite "like", maybe even just a "yeaaaa, no, not really...". But all I've gotten is radio silence. Would it be more correct to say internet silence? Interwebs silence? Either way all I've gotten is a whole lot of nope. Nada. NOTHING. I've got nothing.
So, I plead with you! If you agree, please let me know! If you disagree, and think I may even need to visit an optometrist, please let me know! Either way, out of the goodness of your kind heart, or kindness of your good heart, either way, just please don't leave me in commentless silence.
You wouldn't say no to this adorably begging cat would you? (Even though cats are admittedly a little on the assholish side.)
Yes, I promised to follow up with a Friday the 13th Part II the next day. (Which was Sunday, because I was f*cked out of posting on Friday and had to settle with posting on Saturday.) However, after 57+/- hours without ANY sleep I fell into what one may consider a borderline coma once I finally did fall asleep.
I didn't wake up until almost 2p Sunday. Two in the ever-loving afternoon people. Miraculously, I was able to go back to sleep again Sunday night. (And yes somehow I STILL slept in Monday morning. Go figure.)
Needless to say, here I am, up and writing. (hoping I fall asleep soon)
So where did we leave off...
1• Mr. "never ever gets sick" Mel husband man was sick, with something weird and unexplainable (to the un-medically-trained eye) and then had an equally weird and unexplainable full, and miraculous recovery. (In case you haven't noticed, I like using the word "miraculous".)
2• I was brutally attacked by my arch nemesis, insomnia. And let me just tell you, it beyond sucked. In fact, it sucked beyond definition. Meaning there are literally no words, that I am aware of, that could possibly describe the level of which that amount of sleep deprivation sucks.
3• Our mailbox met a gruesome and torturous end. And they didn't leave A NOTE!
So that brings us to number 4.
4• Mel was continuously dropping vague hints that he would like for me to make a run to the supermarket for our life sustaining liquid, the nectar of the gods, known to others as simply Diet Coke. To be honest, on one hand he may not have been even attempting to be vague. In hindsight he was being quite clear that we needed to go to the store. On the other hand, he refused to come out with it and just ask me to go.
When I mentioned needing eye drops he quickly jumped on the opportunity, pointing out in a very chalant (as in the opposite of nonchalant, if nonchalant is a word, wouldn't chalant be the antonym? I mean, isn't that what makes sense? However, the dictionary disagrees. So chalant can be added to my list of made up words along with dickery and suspensious.) way that if I need eye drops I may as well get Diet Coke too.
I ended up finding eye drops. But it didn't help our dire beverage situation. Eventually he won, and I caved first. Maybe I wanted Diet Coke more than he did. Either way, I caved in the end and headed out the door.
And that's when the things got weird. Again.
As I opened the door Grayson, completely oblivious to the happenings around him, climbed in to the back seat to buckle himself into his car seat.
I, on the other hand, was instantaneously bombarded by an enormous swarm of flies. I'm not exaggerating you guys. It wasn't a few flies. It was a swarm. A SWARM. I was straight up Amityville Horror'ed y'all. There was a SHITton of flies escaping the van and I was smack dab in the middle of their highway to freedom.
This is as accurate as I could possibly give as an example. This was me y'all. ME. Except I'm a 31 year old non-priest female.
It was over in just a few seconds but it felt like several minutes had gone by. Finally there were only 10+/- left in the vehicle by the time I entered and sat in the drivers seat. Immediately I called Mel to come outside of course, so that I could share with him the horror at which I had just partaken. His solution was to drive with the windows down as to let out any remaining flies. (<insert sarcasm here>As we all know flies are always desperate to find windows to escape from, and exit the moment one is spotted.<end sarcasm>)
After calming from the initial shock of the attacking fly swarm I came to a realization of what must have happened.
So let's back up a few days.
Earlier in the week I had made a dump run, putting our two large trash cans in the trunk and hauling them to be emptied at the county dump. When we returned home and removed the cans we discovered that an enormous herd* of maggots had made a pilgrimage from the trash cans and into the trunk of my lovely van.
There were PILES of maggots EVERYWHERE. I'm talking thousands of these suckers. As the three older kids looked on in disgust-filled horror G and I got to work and began scooping them by the handfuls out of the van. Honestly, I couldn't understand their disgust. They handle earth worms ALL the time! Are maggots really that different?!
Anyhow, as we were scooping and throwing I noticed something peculiar. Some of the little bastards were actually BURROWING into the carpet of the van. I stopped with the easy ones and let G tend to them while I went to work extracting the f*ckers from the carpet. Some were fairly easy to pull out. Some broke in half as I tried. And, well, truth be told, a lot of them were able to evade my attempts at removal somehow, and made it into the carpet, burrowing so deep I couldn't tell where, or how, to find the bastards.
Now in defense of the older kiddo's, they did attempt to help somewhat by grabbing one of our chickens from the coup and putting her in the van, in hopes that she would have a glorious buffet. (Those hens LOVE worms and bugs!) However, instead of doing her job and devouring the feast before her she just sort of gave everyone side eye and walked around the back of the van cautiously. I'm pretty sure if she could speak human she would have asked wtf we wanted her to do. We tried showing them to her but she was too fascinated by being in a vehicle, and not her coup nor chicken run, that she was no use what-so-ever.
Eventually, after being asked a dozen or so times the kids brought out the shop-vac. Of course by then the majority of them were gone, but it did help get the rest of them quickly.
So fast forward and there I was, later that week, being swarmed upon by flies. No doubt the same exact little f*ckers that had managed to get away from me and burrow into safety.
Regardless of whether or not I have an explanation of WHY there was a swarm of flies in my van, it's STILL weird af.
Also? Shit. I just realized our shop vac is probably full of flies...
5• After entering what was now a fly infested motor vehicle, I had to do what I was planning to do in the first place. Grab some drinks and what-have-you at the store.
Now, for some asinine reason I decided against Walgreens and decided to hit up Walmart instead.
Now let me just tell you, if you think that an abundance of people straight off the glorious website of People of Walmart are easily seen during the DAY, just visit late on a Friday night. I was literally surrounded by trashtastically insane citizens.
I'm not going to lie. It was a little scary.
Now, what happened that night of Friday the 13th at the local Walmart was admittedly somewhat my fault. But more accurately, it was NOT my fault.
As we were checking out our cashier begin some small chit chat. He was very nice and polite, but his foreign accent did create somewhat of a language barrier. It began as normal chit chat, you know, asking how old Grayson was etc. I'm sad to say that because of the thick accent and broken English I couldn't make out much of what he was saying or asking. So I went the go-to "smile and nod with an occasional chuckle" move.
He told me he was relieved and happy to be getting off and going home very soon at 9o'clock. Even though he seemed eager and excited, there was also something beneath the surface that I couldn't quite place. I told him that I hoped the next half hour flew quickly. Then he asked me if I knew it was Friday the 13th, and I did know, so I smiled and told him yes.
That's when he became very serious. "I no like Friday the 13th..." he began. He went on for a little while longer but I couldn't make out what he was saying until I heard the name "Jaon". Of course by then I knew who he was talking about, and got the gist of what he was saying. It was apparent that he was very scared and worried. (Even though as an elderly gentlemen and not a teen camp counselor he should be completely safe.) He told me I'd better be careful getting home, and then because I smiled, and assured him I would be very safe, he asked why I wasn't scared. He asked me (almost in shock), "You no believe?! No superstition?!". I smiled and jokingly said, "Nah, I don't believe in superstitions. I believe in guns. I've got plenty of guns to keep me and my family safe.". I winked and laughed and he laughed and smiled right along with me. (Remember, as the great Michael Scott once said, "...I am a little stitious.".)
Apparently, even though I'm not a typical "talk with your hands" gal, I tend to do so on occasion. (Doesn't everyone?) I hadn't realized at first that each time I had said "guns" I had made little pew pew firing finger guns. Truthfully I thought nothing of it.
Before I could really even think about it ,a gentleman came up from behind me, circled the cash register, and stood behind the cashier and somewhat to the side as the friendly cashier finished ringing up the last of my items.
The gentlemen wore a white colored shirt and tie along with a Walmart badge. He very clearly held some sort of seniority. The whole time he stood, arms crossed, staring me down with the coldness of an icy glare.
This is basically an exact interpretation. Except for he was a black male. Also, he did not hold his hands behind is back, and he most certainly did not smile at me like the kind and jolly employee in this picture.
I kept telling myself he was there for SOME reason. That the cashier needed help perhaps. But he never said a word. To anyone. But it couldn't possibly be about me. I'm just not exactly sure what he was doing or looking for.
I couldn't decide if there was a some policy against using finger guns, or if he had played too much Tales from the Borderlands, or if, like I have done, just seen this YouTube clip one two many times:
(Seriously, if you haven't watched this yet you have to.)
For the record, I honestly can't figure out the threat in which he seemingly found me to be. I was wearing a flowy mom'ish shirt, mom capris, and LITERAL mom flip flops. (Seriously I was wearing my mom's Clarkes.) Not to mention I was pushing my 4 year old son, in a cart, full of very mom'ish things. Short of holding a sign, or a tee shirt printed with a family photo on it, I was screaming "mom" in every stereotypical way.
I guess that's wrong of me to say. It doesn't matter what your social status is, or what you wear, your age, race, astrological sign, religion, or political party you support, finger guns are fingers guns and they will NOT be tolerated by Walmart's upper management.
I quietly completed our transaction and then left. I couldn't help but look back over my shoulder as I walked away, and sure enough Mr. Ice-Glare Walmart Seniority was watching me as I left.
Of course as I exited the store I passed a very obviously pregnant woman smoking a cigarette. (This was NOT one of those "well she might not be pregnant and just have a chubby tummy" times, this was above and beyond OBVIOUS. But hey, I guess a trip to Walmart wouldn't be quite complete without seeing something trashtastic and disgusting. (Don't get me wrong, a lot of shit I saw inside was pretty deplorable, but that just takes the cake.) I couldn't help myself as I irately pushed my shopping cart close enough to that sorry excuse for a mother just so she could see, and hopefully feel, the thousand dagger glare I sent in her direction.
6• This may very well be the strangest and creepiest thing to happen to me that day, but it also has, somewhat, of the most hilarious explanation.
I left Walmart and made my way towards my sisters' apartment. As I was slowly driving over the entirely too high speed bumps I looked over and saw a man, on all fours, just kneeling, smack dab in the empty middle parking space
between two cars.
I don't care how stupid or silly it sounds now, but at the time it was just INSANE. To be honest I was a little freaked out. All I could picture in my head were these:
Or even worse, this:
Thankfully logic took over and I told myself that it had to have just been a motorcycle and that all I had seen was the headlight reflecting a street lamp leaving an eerie face-like resemblance.
When I got to the end of the complex I called EVERYone I could think of to come out so that I wouldn't have to get out of my car. I couldn't help but feeling even more creeped out when no one would answer their phones, but ALL of their cars were there.
Once I was on my way out of the complex I couldn't help but to circle in to the section to see the creepy man on all fours once and for all, knowing I would see some sort of explanation.
When I made my way around the curve I couldn't help but laugh. I was right!!! (Well, partly right.) It wasn't a motorcycle! But neither was it a man. It was a woman working out! I'm not sure as to what she was doing the first time I spotted her as I drove by, but when I circled around she was doing lunges. And on my way out of the complex she was doing some sort of jumping maneuver. (And no, it wasn't a jumping jack. I know my way around a jumping jack, and that was NOT what she was doing.)
Really, I feel guilty thinking she was a scary looking man. But in my defense I was far away. I've got to to say though, that chick was kicking ass! (At whatever it was she was doing.)
I was relieved to be right. When I told everyone what I had seen, they had to have thought I was certifiable.
So there you have it folks. My insane day. The very first Friday the 13th that I spent actually feeling like it was "Friday the 13th".
*Interesting tidbit: A group of maggots can be called a squirm, a clew, a clat, a bunch, or a knot.
I know that this is supposed to be Friday the 13th Part II. I know that and I'm sorry. I will post that SOON. I promise! For now, we interrupt this broadcast for this important post:
That moment when you're super craving some chocolate and you're so so sad that you don't have any, but then you reach your hand into your drawer and discovered you HAD remembered to leave some for later! And you DID have chocolate after all! And tears are falling down your face as you shove Kit Kat bars in your mouth. Well that moment is euphoria is what it is. IT IS EUPHORIA I TELL YOU! Euphoria.
I suppose it is rather fitting for a blog post listing the ways your day was completely weird and f*cked to disappear in the blink of an eye.
A wonderfully written, long, SO long, blog post. Gone in the blink of an eye because some shotty ass app. Lesson learned. I'm now typing my post in my iPhone notes (where this shit is AUTOSAVED) before using the app to publish with a simple copy & paste. (Coincidentally it was a copy & paste situation that f*cked my entire post.) Seriously though, what blog app wouldn't have an autosave feature?! I mean honestly! I think what pisses me off the most is that I have no one to blame or be pissed off at but myself. That always sucks.
So, let us start over. From the beginning. Although I'm going to go ahead and let you know that I will be splitting what was a very, very long post into two.
Today you get Part I...
Yesterday was Friday the 13th. Frankly, that day doesn't conjur much within me. It's just a date. A date that just so happens to be a day where my favorite number lands on a Friday. (Whoop-whoop!) (😒 giving myself side-eye for whoop-whooping myself over a day that's not even a holiday...)
I'm not a superstitious person. I don't believe that the series of events that took place yesterday happened because it was an "unlucky" day. (After all they weren't all unlucky things, they were just...well to be perfectly honest, weird.) But I have to admit, after the day I had I am, in the words of the great Michael Scott, "...a little stitious...".
I honestly had one of the strangest days I can remember. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't some barrage of unfortunate and bazaar events that could one day be published as a novel and then made into a feature film, but eh, it was enough for blog post because it was too much for a Facebook post... It was just a day, where several pretty weird, and kinda shitty things just so happened to occur all within a 24 hour period. (27 hours if you count the f*ckery that lost my amazing post.) Edited to add: It's now consumed 29 hours of my life, with yet another THING that I will now add to the tail end of this list. (The tail end that will be posted tomorrow.)
So here's the thing, rather than spin a tale full of suspense and dark twists and turns I'm simply going to list the weird things that happened to me today. (If you were paying attention you would have caught that a paragraph back. Sorry for the spoiler amigos.) I decided to go with the list format because mostly because there wasn't suspense. Nor were there dark and twisties lying in wait. I did, however, experience very suspensious* feelings. (But I don't think they would cross over well in written form.) And also, I'm just a listy type of person. I like lists. I do!
1• Let me start off by saying, in the 8 years I've been married, and the 10+ years I've spent with my husband, that said husband doesn't get sick. Ever. Only once, one single, solitary time have I seen the love of my life ill, and that was many, many years ago. He has been blessed with an iron stomach that can handle just about anything you throw into it, sinus cavities that appear to never clog or congest, an upper respiratory system that is ALSO a congestion free zone, and never sees infection, or fluid, or phlegm, he has the immune system of, well, someone with an INSANELY awesome immune system.
To be honest, I knew he was sick the second I got home Thursday night around 9p. He was already in bed asleep, which is just atypical of him. He said he was "just tired", but I knew...oh yes I knew. Within hours he was freezing cold. The man who I've only ever seen complain of the cold ONCE (when we were ignorant enough to try and enjoy a Carolina Panthers football game in the dead of winter, with an unusually low NC temp of 14 degrees) was freezing. I know, mind=blown right?
I don't mean a little chilly, or give-me-an-extra-blanket cold, I'm talking teeth chattering, muscle spasm inducing, shivering out of his skin freezing. He was so cold that for the first time since I've known the man he actually put on pajamas to sleep in! Grayson couldn't stop snickering over the fact that his dad was wearing clothes to bed. He's always been a sleep-in-boxers-only kind of guy. I was convinced that he HAD to have a fever, but he disagreed. After literally forcing a thermometer into his mouth I was genuinely surprised that he didn't have a fever what-so-ever. He won that round.
30 minutes after Mel finally caved and took some ibuprofen for the headache and the aches and pains that were a result of his violent shivering it was my round to win, and he was burning up. (I didn't feel good about winning just so you know. I didn't dare gloat! I mean, obviously I felt bad. He's my husband and I really like him, he's not just hot with fever you know, and he was so miserable. It legitimately made me sad. But of course I air high fived myself because I still had it. The instinctual mommeter. Predicting fevers and illnesses like a pro.) Anyway, this bitch hit so intensely, and so suddenly, that he literally couldn't get his pajamas off quickly enough! Sure enough his temp had gone up to 100.2. Look, I know that's considered a "low grade fever", but our thermometer states that an oral temperature of 99.6 or above is considered a fever.
This is a man who can probably name on one hand how many fevers he's had in his lifetime, whose temperature was 97.7 less than an hour before, and who had coincidentally taken a fever reducer 30 minutes prior to burning up. It may as well have been 105! (You don't have to say it, I'm the mom of 4. Mommeter remember?! I know that fevers are good, and we should let them do their job as safely as possible.)
By the time his alarm was going off for work he had sweat his fever out, completely soaking the bed sheets on his side of the bed in the process. Miraculously he woke up feeling absolutely fine. Miracukously he got up and went to work as though nothing had even happened! It was miraculous! Im going to level with you, had I been in that same situation I would be straight up toe tag dead! Or in the very least, curled up into the fetal position praying for death to come. But miraculously he was absolutely fine less than 6 hours after the whole thing started.
That the weird thing. It was just odd. Very, very odd. SO odd! A man, who is RARELY ever cold, let alone "freezing", is not only woken but kept awake by violent shivering that accompanied the worst chills he'd ever experienced. He exhibited no other symptoms aside from a slight headache, muscle cramps and aches brought on by the shivering, and the fever. Then, miraculously, he goes to work in the morning feeling great. I mean, that's WEIRD!
2• It's been roughly 52 hours (at the time I am writing this) since I've slept. I didn't sleep a wink last night, nor the night before. Please know, that when I say "I didn't sleep", I mean very literally, I did not sleep. I don't mean that I tossed and turned throughout the night, or suffered from unrestful sleep. I don't mean I slept for an hour here and an hour there and had a night of awful broken sleep. Nor do I mean that I only slept for a very short time. What I ACTUALLY mean is that in more than 48 hours now I have not shut my eyes for an extended period of time and slept.
And I'm so tired. In fact, "tired" doesn't even begin to define what I am. What I feel. Add black circles under the eyes and this is what my soul feels like right now:
As a chronic insomnia sufferer this isn't weird. It is terrifying. These are the first full nights I've gone without sleep since November. In November I went nearly 5 days without any sleep and experienced an all out psychosis brought in by sleep deprivation. When I finally slept after those 4+ days it was as though I had pressed a reset button and the chronic, and horrific, insomnia I had suffered over the last 4.5 years improved GREATLY.
Since November I've been so terrified of my insomnia returning that it's quite nearly become a full blown phobia. There is a term for the fear of sleep, somniphobia. But there is not a term for the fear of NOT sleeping. At least not anything I can find in the world wide webs. (Although that's more than likely mostly due to my impatience, and refusal to look beyond the first page of google results.)
While the insomnia may not be an entirely "weird" thing for me, it is in a sense because it's suddenly popped up again after nearly 6 months of marked improvement. Also, I haven't slept in DAYS, so of course I feel weird af.
3• Brace yourselves, because this weird one has me on the brink of irrational anger. Just forewarning you, this particular description is completely littered with "colorful" language. Actually it's just foul. Foul language. So skip on through if you want to. I really don't give two shiitake mushrooms. (Haha you thought that I was going to say shit, and now I HAVE.)
In the last 4.5 months we have had two of our mailboxes ruined. With the first incident it was pretty much cut and dry as it was blaringly obvious to what had occurred. A vehicle hit our mailbox. You could see where the paint had come off onto the mailbox. The newspaper tube, and post were not damaged and it was easily replaceable.
Be that as it may, yesterday our mailbox was completely destroyed. The mailbox, the base that the mailbox sits on to be attached to the post, the newspaper tube, and the post, are all ruined beyond a simple replacement or repair.
The mailbox itself, as well as that newspaper tube, were not only ripped completely off the post and smashed, but they somehow came to rest in our front yard, across the road, and several yards from our actual mailbox post.
How I see it, there are three possibilities here. And all three possibilities are the product of complete and utter dickery**.
Possibility #1: Some asshole kid, or even perhaps an asshole adult, purposely f*cked our mailbox up and damaged our property for no other reason than pure unadulterated dickery. Possibly with their vehicle. Maybe. Then the f*ckers threw it in our yard. Because that's what dickery assholes do. They f*ck your shit up and then throw it in your yard which is the same as throwing it metaphorically in your face.
Possibility #2: Some mother f*cker accidentally hit our mailbox with their vehicle, destroying it, and then pulled over, got their ass out of the car and set the mailbox in our yard. Perhaps removing it from the road to prevent other motorists from hitting it. Which may seem like a less dickery move, but still pretty dickery. (I will explain how after I share the third possibility.)
Possibility #3: The final possibility is much like the second, except for the fact that instead of getting out and throwing it into our yard, it was hit in such a weird ass way that it was actually somehow propelled into our yard, causing it to land at it's final, jacked up resting place.
I honestly hope that whoever did it, in whatever way, royally f*cked up whatever it was that they used. Be it their motor vehicle, or something else.
And here's why.
Damaging or destroying someone else's property, is obviously a dick move. That's a given. But, if it is done by accident, pull over, leave a note with your information and OFFER TO REPLACE IT. That's the right thing to do.
Not too long ago I actually hit a mailbox with my sideview mirror. It was a tough little S.O.B. though and was not damaged. However, my mirror was completely shattered and fell out. I was lucky I didn't lose the entire sticky-outer part, but only the mirror itself IN the sticky-outer part. Had I damaged their property I would have stopped, checked to see if they were home, and in the event that they were not, I would leave a note. Either on their door, or in their mailbox, with my name and contact information, an apology, and an offer to repair or replace what I had damaged.
In neither cases did anyone find it necessary to leave any sort of note or information, nor did they attempt to see if we were home.
Seeing as how the mailbox was intact when Mel (miraculously if you remember) left and made his way to work in the morning, I'm guessing that it was an accident. Otherwise, it was done by one ballsy dick.
I kind of love this. This would f*ck someone's car UP and deliver "a message". (Pun totally intended.) What that message is, would completely be made up in their head, but hopefully it would be something along the lines of, "Leave my shit alone, or I will shoot you.". Also, the message could also be a letter I mailed. To someone.
Moral of the story? Leave a note kids! Always leave a damn note. Gah!
You honestly don't know how angry this makes me. I am angered by this! Angered! So horribly angered! Perhaps actually writing this out has pushed me over the brink into bona fide irrational anger! Perhaps I'm projecting my anger over another situation into this situation and overreacting! Perhaps I'm not! Perhaps I don't know at this point!
Now you may be asking yourself, "Uhhhh what's so weird about this?". If the most obvious reason wasn't enough for you, which is the possibility of it propelling in such a weird ass way that it landed across the road, several yards away, I have another weird thing tied into this whole debacle! For whatever reason our dog, Mason, would not stop going apeshit over the damn mailbox being in our front yard! He literally barked for a good 20-30 minutes. (Which is a shit ton of consecutive barking!) I'm not sure if he was trying to warn us of the dickery events being played out on our property, or if perhaps he was just unhappy with the mailbox crossing the road and entering our yard. Hell, maybe he was trying to warn us of a mangled, tangled, misshapen and scary black object encroaching on our property. Either way, he wasn't having it. The second he would stop barking he'd look out the window and see it and start all over again, I believe he truly felt he was doing a service to our family and protecting us. You could see it in his eyes. His eyes said, "Mom! Mom! Mom! Do you see it?! Do you see it mom?! I'm warning you mom! Mom! I'm being a good boy and protecting my family mom! Do you hear me? Mom! Do you hear me protecting you mom?!".
Please join me tomorrow as I look forward to continuing with my list of strange-as-shit happenings that occurred Friday the 13th, May 2K16 and had the audacity to carry over into the following day. Which is TOday.
Here is a sneak peek into what tomorrow's post shall regale.
When I first saw the trailer for Me Before You I knew immediately I would want to see it. Sam Caflin is such a cutie and I loved him in Love, Rosie. And Emelia Clarke is as cute as a button! She's an amazing actress and to see her play in a role SO different than her role in Game of Thrones is intriguing. (I know she's been in other things, but I have yet to see them.)
I was thrilled to discover that it was based on a novel. (Because I'm a bookworm and LOVE to read.) I debated reading it before the movie though, worried it would somehow ruin it for me, but once I saw the incredible music video to X Ambassadors' remix of "Unsteady" I was sold. The video literally gave me goosebumps. (Seriously, the song is amazing, especially this remix with the orchestra. I lurve it so murch!) I didn't want to have to wait for the movie, I wanted to read it right then and there!
Within in minutes I was on my Amazon app clicking "Buy Now".
The second it arrived (in less than two days, because Amazon Prime is EVERYTHING and AMAZINGLY AWESOME) I devoured it. I read every possible second I could, and was finished in just shy of 48 hours.
It was honestly such a good read. I am pretty sure I felt every emotion possible, with the exception of disgust and horror. I smiled, grimaced, beamed with joy, whimpered in sadness, laughed, cried, you know, covered pretty much all the cliche emotional bases that come with a good book.
I will DEFINITELY be seeing the movie, but will more than likely save myself the public embarrassment of the inevitable full blown emotional meltdown, complete with the ugly cry, and watch it in the privacy of my own home.
If you love a good book, and aren't afraid of feelings and all that jazz, read this book! Seriously. Look, I will even save you time and put a link right here for you:
PUSH, CLICK, or TAP HERE to buy. Now you don't even have to google. You can watch the trailer, fall in love with the song, and buy the book, all in one place. You can thank me later. 😉
And come back in a few months to read my review of the movie! I'm not an expert movie critic, probably not even what someone would consider a "good" movie critic, but in the very least I can offer an honest opinion. Even if it's just MY opinion.
I think the funniest part is that more than 5,000 have been sold. Oddly enough, I can see the appeal. I mean, if we’re being honest here, I can think of a few people I wouldn’t mind sending an ominous message via potato anonymously. Seriously though, who is the brilliant mind behind this shit?! Go home Groupon, you’re drunk.
I've had an odd realization this week as I came across a photo of Tim Burton in my Facebook feed. (I believe it was something about a Tim Burton themed bar opening.) In that particular photo I couldn't help but notice a striking resemblance to Steve Carell.
Don't get me wrong. This wasn't one of those cases where I thought for a brief moment that it was Steve Carell, or anything of that sort. It just so happened to dawn on me how many similarities there are between the two.
This was the original photo I saw of Tim Burton when it struck me. He resembles a slightly older Steve Carell...in a wig!
So of course I had to do what anyone in my position would do. I'd have to find a photo of Carell to compare the two.
Look at this! I mean, come on, am I the only seeing it? Am I crazy?
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying they could pass for each other, or that they could be confused out on the streets as the other. I'm just saying WHOA! They totally look like they could, in the very least, be related!
I mean, seriously. Burton looks like Carell in disguise! If you did a little Hollywood magic in the makeup room it wouldn't take much to completely disguise Carell as Burton.
Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm crazy. But I fully believe that Tim Burton looks like Steve Carell in disguise.
I was thrilled to discover that it was based on a novel. (Because I'm a bookworm and LOVE to read.) I debated reading it before the movie though, worried it would somehow ruin it for me, but once I saw the incredible music video to X Ambassadors' remix of "Unsteady" I was sold. The video literally gave me goosebumps. (Seriously, the song is amazing, especially this remix with the orchestra. I lurve it so murch!) I didn't want to have to wait for the movie, I wanted to read it right then and there!
This was the original photo I saw of Tim Burton when it struck me. He resembles a slightly older Steve Carell...in a wig!
Look at this! I mean, come on, am I the only seeing it? Am I crazy? 
I mean, seriously. Burton looks like Carell in disguise! If you did a little Hollywood magic in the makeup room it wouldn't take much to completely disguise Carell as Burton.
