A dead man, a church picnic and French bread.

 

I have been unbelievably busy during the past two weeks for someone who has nothing to do with her life. That’s right, nothing to do. I’m taking the current semester off from school.

Yup. Obviously I’ve known this for quite awhile and kept it from my blog friends. Sorry. It’s just embarrassing to admit that I became so exhausted that both my grades and health were suffering.

Anyway, I’ll be back to academia in January, when I have sufficiently recuperated.

So what have I been doing?

1. Making pot roast with my little sissy.

She thought the following picture would make good blogger fodder:

She is pretty cute.

2. I’ve been drinking hot chocolate.
Winter has officially hit Tennessee. It was in the 60’s last week! (Blah!)

3. I’ve been taking secret snapshots of magazine articles while in Books-a-million. Getting fall ideas.

If it makes you feel better, I do subscribe to like 20,000 magazines. So it’s not like I’m stealing
from the industry. At least not much.

4. I stood in Earthfare for an hour trying to figure out which tea Andraé wanted. Earthfare is a local Whole Foods type of place. Very cool. Their cheese counter is as big as the meat counter at the supermarket.
Me loves.

5. Discovering new breads. I went back to Earthfare yesterday with the Hubs and we succumbed to the scent of fresh bread. A loaf of French Peasant went to the car with us. The assault on my senses
after the first bite would be X-rated to describe. Let’s just say that I ate half the loaf before we made it to the book store. With my eyes closed.

6. I went to a bridal shower. Generally pictures from bridal showers don’t make it to the internet, but these are pretty hilarious. Instead of making a wedding dress out of toilet paper, we made lingerie out of party streamers and TP. I think my two friends A and J did a pretty good job. I got to model.

 

*Future employer: I don’t party. Ever. This is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done in public.
You have no reason to fear hiring me. I’m dependable and friendly. LOL

7. I went to a Church picnic.
I talked on a swing with my friend for hours and missed watching my husband play softball. Bummer. But we had a good talk.

8. I watched Jane Eyre with my Aunt and cousins. The movie was great. But I’m not sure if I like this guy or not. It’s my job to screen the leading men in all English Provincial movies.

So far the only thing that I can ascertain is that he has too much hair on his face. Or not enough. It’s just
a little too scraggly for me. He was a decent actor though. So I guess his facial hair shouldn’t matter.
(Who am I kidding? Mr. Darcy without Colin Firth or Matthew Macfadyen would be a joke…)

9. I sound like a 5 year old. SO says a massage therapist. A rock-star-turned-massage-therapist. Only my husband could find a therapist who used to tour Aerosmith when he was the bassist for Jackyl.
Anyway.
The dude came out of the clinic and over to the car, just to ascertain that I was indeed 23 years old. After shaking my hand and pronouncing my age as 5, he walked back inside. Apparently my voice over the phone is “little.” I’m having a hard time not hating him right now. (kidding.) He even asked Andraé if I was a little person. As in 4-feet-tall. I’m 5’6” THANKYOU!

10. Finding dead people in my yard. This was probably the most exciting event of the week.
Unfortunately “people” isn’t exactly truthful, because there was only one guy. And he wasn’t really dead.
But I thought he was, does that count?

One evening as I was finishing some last minute touches around the house before the Hubs came home from work, I happened to notice a man slumped over in our yard. We live on a pretty busy road, so it wasn’t surprising to see someone there, but his position was weird.

He was propped up, with his head leaning down on his knees. At first I thought he was resting, but it looked so unnatural. His arms were lying limp in his lap, and his neck looked really weird.

The conversation with myself sounded something like this:

“He’s dead!”

             “No, people don’t die sitting up.”

“Oh yeah, of course.”

“Are you sure?”

           “Well…there was that person in the news who died sitting on their toilet.”

“OH MY GOD! If you can die on the toilet then you can die in the grass!!”

       “What should you do?”

“I’m going to go outside and check on him!”

                   “What if he is a serial killer just waiting for you to get close,
                        and then he’ll grab you and stuff you in his backpack!!???”

“OH MY GOD! I didn’t think of that!”

Not wanting a serial killer to get me, I played it safe and called Andraé. Our conversation went something like this:

“Hello”

               “HONEY!!!!!! COME HOME NOW!”

“I’m on my way, what’s wrong?”

                 “There’s a dead guy in our yard!!!”

“What??”

                 “Yes! I’ve been watching him for like 10 minutes and he hasn’t
                    even twitched!” 

“Ok, are you sure? Call the police.”

                 “I don’t know yet, I just wanted you to know what happened to me
                  if I’m gone when you get here, you’ll know that he got me!”

“Ok.”

                   “Ok, BYE!”

(I laugh as I read this now.)

After I hung up the phone, yelled out the door, and the guy didn’t flinch.

Then I went outside and yelled from about 3 feet away. He didn’t flinch.

I shook him. He didn’t flinch.

By this time, cars are beginning to stop because they have noticed the dead guy too.

I call 9-1-1.

As the dispatch answers and I try to explain what’s going on, the guy suddenly jumps to his feet.
He was completely confused and embarrassed. He wouldn’t stay long enough for me to find out what was wrong, but I think he must have had some sort of a health problem. He didn’t appear to be passed out on drugs or alcohol.

It was exciting.

And sad.

And that’s pretty much my two weeks! Sorry for the novel. But I had to catch up.