But what I'm sharing now is Lucy digging her squeaky toy out of a Kitchenaid box. She tried jumping in once. Only once. The box tipped over and she was forever freaked out by it.
So she does this instead.
Enjoy.
Lucy: 1 v. Life: 0
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Lucy v. Life: Kitchenaid box
I'll have to post her "nest" also. That will come at a later date.
But what I'm sharing now is Lucy digging her squeaky toy out of a Kitchenaid box. She tried jumping in once. Only once. The box tipped over and she was forever freaked out by it.
So she does this instead.
Enjoy.
Lucy: 1 v. Life: 0
But what I'm sharing now is Lucy digging her squeaky toy out of a Kitchenaid box. She tried jumping in once. Only once. The box tipped over and she was forever freaked out by it.
So she does this instead.
Enjoy.
Lucy: 1 v. Life: 0
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Stacey v. Life: I love you
This will be brief, but I wanted to get this in writing so I never forget.
One time I was baby-sitting my nieces. We had a fun evening of dinner and crafts. It was time to wind down with a movie. I'm sitting on the floor while older niece, M, eagerly awaits the start time of Despicable Me. She just looks at me and says, "Titi Stacey? I love you." Then my heart melted. I said, "I love you, too, M!"
Another time I was baby-sitting my nieces. It was nice, so we were doing craft time outside on the back patio. I was carrying the folding table back into the house and little niece, L, was right behind me. In the garage, right before we go into the house, she says, "Titi Stacey? I love you." Then my heart melted again. I said, "I love you, too, L!"
Don't worry, I remember when Husband said it, too ;) Instead of a heart-melt, it took my breath away.
Stacey: 1 v. Life: 0
One time I was baby-sitting my nieces. We had a fun evening of dinner and crafts. It was time to wind down with a movie. I'm sitting on the floor while older niece, M, eagerly awaits the start time of Despicable Me. She just looks at me and says, "Titi Stacey? I love you." Then my heart melted. I said, "I love you, too, M!"
Another time I was baby-sitting my nieces. It was nice, so we were doing craft time outside on the back patio. I was carrying the folding table back into the house and little niece, L, was right behind me. In the garage, right before we go into the house, she says, "Titi Stacey? I love you." Then my heart melted again. I said, "I love you, too, L!"
Don't worry, I remember when Husband said it, too ;) Instead of a heart-melt, it took my breath away.
Stacey: 1 v. Life: 0
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Stacey vs. Puggle: Pajamas
I think puggles are gross, gross creatures. Thanks to my friend's gross, gross puggle. Sorry, buddy, you ruined it for all your puggle cousins.
Three years ago he was parading around a cabin with a used tampon, the string happily hanging out of his mouth. Just hanging on to it. Not eating. Just snacking. I'll give you one guess to whom the tampon belonged.
Every time this dog comes to my house, I have a new pair of crotchless underwear. I don't know how or when he does it. He's a sneaky bastard.
This is his greatest Houdini yet.
Last night I'm wearing one of my favorite pair of pajama pants. Light, comfy, worn in. There was one tiny little hole in the crotch. About the size of a pencil eraser. Something I was planning on sewing up for a while now. I put my old faithfuls on last night after a nice hot shower. I continue with my night of grand plans to sleep a cozy sleep.
We are dog-sitting this gross little creature. Now, let me just say, when he isn't being disgusting, he is quite cute and snuggly. I call him my little snuggle puggle. D'awe. So last night, I let Lucy under the "bankies" because the poor freeze baby was cold. She sleeps under the blankies with me every night. I know the puggle does the same in his own home. Our friend told us so and we think it's silly since Lucy does the same! So I let the puggle crawl under the "bankies" as well. We go to snooze town. Or so I thought....
I wake up this morning to Husband wanting some "adult time." I'm not going into too many details here, but Husband pretty much got to second base (maybe third?) and I still had on my pjs! I thought it was very strange. I asked him how he managed to do that. He said there was just a giant slit in my pants. Okay. Fair enough. I figure at some point this little hole just grew into something a little more annoying.
It is now close to midnight. I go to check out this giant slit in my pajamas. I pick them up and there is the biggest hole -- with teeth marks!!!! -- I have ever seen in a pair of my clothes!!! Puggle. Dammit. He got to my pajamas! (Good thing I have another pair of these!) But when?! When, my dearest snuggle puggle, did you try eating your way to China through my pants?!!
My theory? He crawled under my blankies and curled up in a little triangle shape I made with my foot and knee put together. And he went to town. Don't ask how I didn't notice. I am a very heavy sleeper.
You creepy little bastard.
Stacey: 0 v. Puggle: 1
Three years ago he was parading around a cabin with a used tampon, the string happily hanging out of his mouth. Just hanging on to it. Not eating. Just snacking. I'll give you one guess to whom the tampon belonged.
Every time this dog comes to my house, I have a new pair of crotchless underwear. I don't know how or when he does it. He's a sneaky bastard.
This is his greatest Houdini yet.
Last night I'm wearing one of my favorite pair of pajama pants. Light, comfy, worn in. There was one tiny little hole in the crotch. About the size of a pencil eraser. Something I was planning on sewing up for a while now. I put my old faithfuls on last night after a nice hot shower. I continue with my night of grand plans to sleep a cozy sleep.
We are dog-sitting this gross little creature. Now, let me just say, when he isn't being disgusting, he is quite cute and snuggly. I call him my little snuggle puggle. D'awe. So last night, I let Lucy under the "bankies" because the poor freeze baby was cold. She sleeps under the blankies with me every night. I know the puggle does the same in his own home. Our friend told us so and we think it's silly since Lucy does the same! So I let the puggle crawl under the "bankies" as well. We go to snooze town. Or so I thought....
I wake up this morning to Husband wanting some "adult time." I'm not going into too many details here, but Husband pretty much got to second base (maybe third?) and I still had on my pjs! I thought it was very strange. I asked him how he managed to do that. He said there was just a giant slit in my pants. Okay. Fair enough. I figure at some point this little hole just grew into something a little more annoying.
It is now close to midnight. I go to check out this giant slit in my pajamas. I pick them up and there is the biggest hole -- with teeth marks!!!! -- I have ever seen in a pair of my clothes!!! Puggle. Dammit. He got to my pajamas! (Good thing I have another pair of these!) But when?! When, my dearest snuggle puggle, did you try eating your way to China through my pants?!!
My theory? He crawled under my blankies and curled up in a little triangle shape I made with my foot and knee put together. And he went to town. Don't ask how I didn't notice. I am a very heavy sleeper.
You creepy little bastard.
Stacey: 0 v. Puggle: 1
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Stacey v. House: Appliances
The other day I was loading up the washing machine. I notice a weird shape in that cup-thing that I think holds fabric softener? I take a closer look. It's a wolf spider that has been plastered to the cup because of the spinning motion the washing machine makes when on the spin cycle. EW. bleck. I even tried shaking it out and smacking it on the garbage to hopefully get it loose and nothing helped. It's there forever as far as I'm concerned.
Today I was telling Husband about it and he didn't believe me. I can't make that shit up! How could he not believe me?! I go downstairs to grab the cup because I just had to show him. It was crazy.
I get to the basement and some Fast Orange cleaning stuff was on the washing machine and I just slide it over to the dryer. I grab the cup and show Husband. He was as amazed and disgusted as I was.
I take the cup back downstairs and notice a giant rug in the washing machine. I am an awesome wife so I go to throw it in the dryer but that Fast Orange was actually sitting on the dryer door (front loading) and when I open the door, the Fast Orange does a for-real back flip and promptly opens and splats all over the inside of the dryer.
Only me.
Stacey - 0 v. Appliances - 2 (1 for the sneaky wolf spider, 1 for the stupid Fast Orange)
Today I was telling Husband about it and he didn't believe me. I can't make that shit up! How could he not believe me?! I go downstairs to grab the cup because I just had to show him. It was crazy.
I get to the basement and some Fast Orange cleaning stuff was on the washing machine and I just slide it over to the dryer. I grab the cup and show Husband. He was as amazed and disgusted as I was.
I take the cup back downstairs and notice a giant rug in the washing machine. I am an awesome wife so I go to throw it in the dryer but that Fast Orange was actually sitting on the dryer door (front loading) and when I open the door, the Fast Orange does a for-real back flip and promptly opens and splats all over the inside of the dryer.
Only me.
Stacey - 0 v. Appliances - 2 (1 for the sneaky wolf spider, 1 for the stupid Fast Orange)
Friday, September 30, 2011
Husband v. Life: Car Dealerships
We have been pretending we've been wanting to buy a new car since we got married. So two years, now? Finally we got a kick in the ass to get the process going. All it took was his coworker telling him his wife would give him a mad deal on a Ford since it was end of the fiscal year.
Woo. Hoo.
Husband works third shift. His grand plan was to come home Friday morning from work and we'd be on our way. So we did. We head out to Toyota because we want to test drive that before we make any final decisions at Ford. We already decided it'd be one of those two that would end up in our driveway.
We show up at Toyota -- and I always end up laughing at car dealerships because those salesman are like flies on shit. They just stare at you as soon as you pull in the driveway. I always feel like a piece of meat! Anyways, a nice guy named Jason approaches us asking what we're looking for. We don't mess around and cut right to the chase. Soon enough, we're test driving. Awesome. We're hooked on the V6. Silly salesman had us drive the V6 before the 4 cylinder. Of course we love the V6. We were planning on a V6 in the first place, so he really didn't have to twist our arms.
We love the car. Husband pretends that "we don't need this, that or the other thing, but they would be nice for resale." ::chuckle::
My Husband is awesome at a lot of things. Most days, wheeling and dealing doesn't quite make it to the top five. However, he really proved himself at that round table. He literally laughed at some of the offers brought to the table. It was pretty empowering, and I know he felt that. He really got 'em going and eventually he was chatting with Toyota's General Manager. So that was awesome.
We end up loving the Toyota but have to go to Ford since he knows the guy whose wife works there. And she's training, so we wanted to give her some experience.
The first thing I kind of liked was that no one talked to us for, like, 15 minutes! Nice! We fiddle around window shopping and wait another 10 minutes for the woman we came to see. We tell her what we want to drive. She goes to get it.
She pulls up, Husband takes the reigns. A panel is falling off? And there are 65480419840 buttons up front. I'm sure they are useful, but it's a bit overwhelming. Her trainer shows us how to adjust the mirrors and the seatbelt -- because that's just soooooo high-tech -- and then we're on our way. Honestly, not a bad ride. But we still liked the Toyota better. Before we left we let her trainer think that what we really wanted was something smaller and we test drove one more vehicle before we left because Husband "was tired." Which he was. He had officially been awake for 20 hours at this point.
We go back to Toyota. We wait around for 90 minutes. By now Husband has to go back to work so I have to handle the final wheeling and dealing. I fail at that. I ended up calling him in a mild panic over the extended warranty option. And then, when we had to have Husband sign the final papers, we decide to walk to where he works. It was wet and rainy and that was a really bad idea on my part. Oops. That poor sales guy.
But we are o.b.s.e.s.s.e.d with our new Toyota :)
Husband - 1 v. Car Dealerships - 0
Woo. Hoo.
Husband works third shift. His grand plan was to come home Friday morning from work and we'd be on our way. So we did. We head out to Toyota because we want to test drive that before we make any final decisions at Ford. We already decided it'd be one of those two that would end up in our driveway.
We show up at Toyota -- and I always end up laughing at car dealerships because those salesman are like flies on shit. They just stare at you as soon as you pull in the driveway. I always feel like a piece of meat! Anyways, a nice guy named Jason approaches us asking what we're looking for. We don't mess around and cut right to the chase. Soon enough, we're test driving. Awesome. We're hooked on the V6. Silly salesman had us drive the V6 before the 4 cylinder. Of course we love the V6. We were planning on a V6 in the first place, so he really didn't have to twist our arms.
We love the car. Husband pretends that "we don't need this, that or the other thing, but they would be nice for resale." ::chuckle::
My Husband is awesome at a lot of things. Most days, wheeling and dealing doesn't quite make it to the top five. However, he really proved himself at that round table. He literally laughed at some of the offers brought to the table. It was pretty empowering, and I know he felt that. He really got 'em going and eventually he was chatting with Toyota's General Manager. So that was awesome.
We end up loving the Toyota but have to go to Ford since he knows the guy whose wife works there. And she's training, so we wanted to give her some experience.
The first thing I kind of liked was that no one talked to us for, like, 15 minutes! Nice! We fiddle around window shopping and wait another 10 minutes for the woman we came to see. We tell her what we want to drive. She goes to get it.
She pulls up, Husband takes the reigns. A panel is falling off? And there are 65480419840 buttons up front. I'm sure they are useful, but it's a bit overwhelming. Her trainer shows us how to adjust the mirrors and the seatbelt -- because that's just soooooo high-tech -- and then we're on our way. Honestly, not a bad ride. But we still liked the Toyota better. Before we left we let her trainer think that what we really wanted was something smaller and we test drove one more vehicle before we left because Husband "was tired." Which he was. He had officially been awake for 20 hours at this point.
We go back to Toyota. We wait around for 90 minutes. By now Husband has to go back to work so I have to handle the final wheeling and dealing. I fail at that. I ended up calling him in a mild panic over the extended warranty option. And then, when we had to have Husband sign the final papers, we decide to walk to where he works. It was wet and rainy and that was a really bad idea on my part. Oops. That poor sales guy.
But we are o.b.s.e.s.s.e.d with our new Toyota :)
Husband - 1 v. Car Dealerships - 0
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Stacey v. Kitchen: Zucchini Bread!
I've been told by a few male friends that they would offer their left testicle for the trade-off of a lifetime supply of my chocolate chip cookies. Considering a few of them have yet to produce offspring, I take this as quite the compliment.
I'm not a baker by any stretch of the imagination, yet. Even my chocolate chip cookies took about four or five tries to get them just right. Then we moved, meaning I had to change the temperatures with the acquisition of a new stove. We assumed ownership of an outdated stove from the previous homeowner. He built this house in 1959, I believe, and I have no doubt that this is the stove that was used when the house was built. It was probably the best on the market at that time, and it still works, so I use it. I especially love it because it is retro, and it is HUGE. It has a nice big range and even a "work area", as I like to call it; or it's a cooling space, but not really because the heat from the oven keeps the top warm. Regardless of the empty space's purpose, I love my stove.
We have been trying to garden these past two years in our new house, and as a result of our attempts, we have grown quite a few zucchini. I've made zucchini fries, straight-up fried zucchini, snacked on zucchini, did many-a-things to said zucchini. I recently tried my mother-in-law's zucchini bread recipe and found another useful solution for our zucchini production! Hooray!
I had no plans today other than an eye appointment for this evening and regular house cleaning, so I figured I'd give it a try. Luckily I barely had all ingredients on hand. I used the last drop of vegetable oil and was just a hair short of the 1 cup that I needed. I only found one loaf pan of regular size and needed two. Then I stumbled upon three mini loaf pans that I have no idea where they came from. It looks like my baking pan and loaf pan procreated in their spare time. I figured I would just use those and see what happened.
I proceeded to make the batter. I hand-mixed the batter with my trusty wooden spoon. I love hand-mixing because I tricked myself into believing that those few extra calories I burn using my hand I can keep in reserves for tasting the batter; which is my initial test of recipe success. If the batter is good, I all-out assume that the final product will be excellent. I think that is fair.
I also hand-grated the zucchini. Mother-in-law said she used the food processor, but again, whatever calories I can burn using the "hard way" I can later use making sure the batter is up to par.
Batter was to die for, so into the three mini loaf pans, and then oven, the bread went. Note: I'd like to take this time to thank my younger sister for leaving her PAM Baking Spray in my spice cabinet. I thought today would be the perfect day to bust it out.
Overall, the recipe was quite easy to make, so that means I will make it again in the future. My house smells amazing, too. I think Husband will be very impressed when he wakes up from his slumber. Unfortunately he doesn't really eat baked goods, so I will have to find some volunteers to take my creations.
I'm not a baker by any stretch of the imagination, yet. Even my chocolate chip cookies took about four or five tries to get them just right. Then we moved, meaning I had to change the temperatures with the acquisition of a new stove. We assumed ownership of an outdated stove from the previous homeowner. He built this house in 1959, I believe, and I have no doubt that this is the stove that was used when the house was built. It was probably the best on the market at that time, and it still works, so I use it. I especially love it because it is retro, and it is HUGE. It has a nice big range and even a "work area", as I like to call it; or it's a cooling space, but not really because the heat from the oven keeps the top warm. Regardless of the empty space's purpose, I love my stove.
We have been trying to garden these past two years in our new house, and as a result of our attempts, we have grown quite a few zucchini. I've made zucchini fries, straight-up fried zucchini, snacked on zucchini, did many-a-things to said zucchini. I recently tried my mother-in-law's zucchini bread recipe and found another useful solution for our zucchini production! Hooray!
I had no plans today other than an eye appointment for this evening and regular house cleaning, so I figured I'd give it a try. Luckily I barely had all ingredients on hand. I used the last drop of vegetable oil and was just a hair short of the 1 cup that I needed. I only found one loaf pan of regular size and needed two. Then I stumbled upon three mini loaf pans that I have no idea where they came from. It looks like my baking pan and loaf pan procreated in their spare time. I figured I would just use those and see what happened.
I proceeded to make the batter. I hand-mixed the batter with my trusty wooden spoon. I love hand-mixing because I tricked myself into believing that those few extra calories I burn using my hand I can keep in reserves for tasting the batter; which is my initial test of recipe success. If the batter is good, I all-out assume that the final product will be excellent. I think that is fair.
I also hand-grated the zucchini. Mother-in-law said she used the food processor, but again, whatever calories I can burn using the "hard way" I can later use making sure the batter is up to par.
Batter was to die for, so into the three mini loaf pans, and then oven, the bread went. Note: I'd like to take this time to thank my younger sister for leaving her PAM Baking Spray in my spice cabinet. I thought today would be the perfect day to bust it out.
Overall, the recipe was quite easy to make, so that means I will make it again in the future. My house smells amazing, too. I think Husband will be very impressed when he wakes up from his slumber. Unfortunately he doesn't really eat baked goods, so I will have to find some volunteers to take my creations.
 |
| Enjoy! |
Stacey: 1 v. Kitchen: 0
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Stacey v. Technology: Google Maps
Of all things I learn quickly, one of the few is technology. I don't often lose battles with computer issues unless the computer crashes entirely.
Husband bought us new Androids last fall. Very exciting times for us as we were both upgrading from standard flip phones. It didn't take too long for me to adjust to the touch screen and figure out which apps would be most useful for my every day life. I was a proud owner of a smart phone, and I knew how to operate it.
One of my favorite apps on my smart phone is Google Maps. I get lost in parking lots so having the navigation system integrated into my phone was a godsend. I try not to rely on it more than I need to and have even gotten into the habit lately of just reading the directions in my driveway and trying to find my way to my destination with as least interference from Google Maps as possible. It's been fun.
Today I had to travel a ways south. I knew it wouldn't be a tough drive. Annoying because of traffic and never-ending construction that goes on in Cleveland, but nothing crazy. I pull up Google Maps: 1 HR. 03 MIN. it is telling me. Off I go. I end up seeing a ridiculous back-up on 271N while I'm headed down 271S. I thought to myself, Man, sucks to be those people. I hear on the radio that there was a car fire and one lane was closed. Ick. I continue on and successfully only use Google Maps when I get closer because I was driving through streets of houses while looking for an office building, which is very misleading. Google Maps clearly pointed me in the right direction, which I was actually on, and I was early, as always. I love Google Maps.
I have a one-hour long deposition that goes well. I go back to my car, and just to be safe I check trusty old Google Maps for my route home: 1 HR. 34 MIN. Are you out of your mind, Google Maps?, I think. Why in the world would I be sent on a route 30 minutes longer than the original route? Insanity. So I just head back the way I came. Easy enough, right? I am sitting at a stop light and update my map. Only 1 HR. 24 MIN. to go. I check and it seems the route is the same I came. I mean, there is NO WAY the car fire mess is still an issue. It had been a solid two and a half hours since I passed it, and much more time since it actually happened!! No. Google Maps is on crack.
I continue on my way. I am headed 8N and I pass 77N. I think for a split second that I know how to get home via 77N, maybe I should just jump on 77N. No, no. Google Maps always picks the shortest route. Even if it was the car fire mess, I would just keep updating my map because it could just be slow and behind the times.
All of a sudden, as soon as I start to merge onto 271N. BRAKES. Nothing but brake lights. I have nowhere to turn! Nowhere to go but foward. Dammit. There must be traffic or an accident. It's now been about three hours since I initially passed the back-up from before.
So now I am the a-hole creeping into the left lane because the right lanes keep ending because, like, 16 freeways merge onto 271N at this point. We're going a whopping 10 mph at best. I'm fiddling on Facebook and cursing Google Maps for sending me this way. I decide to update my route with no freeways! Genius!! 1 HR. 56 MIN. Seriously?? I've been travelling for 45 minutes already and I'd have another two hours if I took the next exit? Screw that.
Then I started people-watching. Some guy is weaving back and forth in one lane. Weird-o. Must have been trying to see what the hold-up was. Good luck, buddy. Then he swerves back and forth for a little longer and just shoots into the shoulder lane! Really?! And I thought I was being a dick! Whatever. I see another car, then a motorcycle drive down the shoulder to pass the time.
I finally get to the hold-up. Car fire? No. SEMI-TRUCK FIRE. How did they mix up a car and a SEMI?!
When I finally got home, I checked to see how long it took to return.
1 HR. 34 MIN.
Stacey: 0 v. Technology: 1
Husband bought us new Androids last fall. Very exciting times for us as we were both upgrading from standard flip phones. It didn't take too long for me to adjust to the touch screen and figure out which apps would be most useful for my every day life. I was a proud owner of a smart phone, and I knew how to operate it.
One of my favorite apps on my smart phone is Google Maps. I get lost in parking lots so having the navigation system integrated into my phone was a godsend. I try not to rely on it more than I need to and have even gotten into the habit lately of just reading the directions in my driveway and trying to find my way to my destination with as least interference from Google Maps as possible. It's been fun.
Today I had to travel a ways south. I knew it wouldn't be a tough drive. Annoying because of traffic and never-ending construction that goes on in Cleveland, but nothing crazy. I pull up Google Maps: 1 HR. 03 MIN. it is telling me. Off I go. I end up seeing a ridiculous back-up on 271N while I'm headed down 271S. I thought to myself, Man, sucks to be those people. I hear on the radio that there was a car fire and one lane was closed. Ick. I continue on and successfully only use Google Maps when I get closer because I was driving through streets of houses while looking for an office building, which is very misleading. Google Maps clearly pointed me in the right direction, which I was actually on, and I was early, as always. I love Google Maps.
I have a one-hour long deposition that goes well. I go back to my car, and just to be safe I check trusty old Google Maps for my route home: 1 HR. 34 MIN. Are you out of your mind, Google Maps?, I think. Why in the world would I be sent on a route 30 minutes longer than the original route? Insanity. So I just head back the way I came. Easy enough, right? I am sitting at a stop light and update my map. Only 1 HR. 24 MIN. to go. I check and it seems the route is the same I came. I mean, there is NO WAY the car fire mess is still an issue. It had been a solid two and a half hours since I passed it, and much more time since it actually happened!! No. Google Maps is on crack.
I continue on my way. I am headed 8N and I pass 77N. I think for a split second that I know how to get home via 77N, maybe I should just jump on 77N. No, no. Google Maps always picks the shortest route. Even if it was the car fire mess, I would just keep updating my map because it could just be slow and behind the times.
All of a sudden, as soon as I start to merge onto 271N. BRAKES. Nothing but brake lights. I have nowhere to turn! Nowhere to go but foward. Dammit. There must be traffic or an accident. It's now been about three hours since I initially passed the back-up from before.
So now I am the a-hole creeping into the left lane because the right lanes keep ending because, like, 16 freeways merge onto 271N at this point. We're going a whopping 10 mph at best. I'm fiddling on Facebook and cursing Google Maps for sending me this way. I decide to update my route with no freeways! Genius!! 1 HR. 56 MIN. Seriously?? I've been travelling for 45 minutes already and I'd have another two hours if I took the next exit? Screw that.
Then I started people-watching. Some guy is weaving back and forth in one lane. Weird-o. Must have been trying to see what the hold-up was. Good luck, buddy. Then he swerves back and forth for a little longer and just shoots into the shoulder lane! Really?! And I thought I was being a dick! Whatever. I see another car, then a motorcycle drive down the shoulder to pass the time.
I finally get to the hold-up. Car fire? No. SEMI-TRUCK FIRE. How did they mix up a car and a SEMI?!
When I finally got home, I checked to see how long it took to return.
1 HR. 34 MIN.
Stacey: 0 v. Technology: 1
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Stacey v. Hygiene: Contact Lenses
Ever since I was in the third grade I have kind of had to wear glasses. My right eye can apparently see past my prescription, so says my new eye doctor. I finally decided yesterday that maybe I should stop straining so much and commit to some eye care. I was well on my way to a lazy eye.
I had a great appointment and decided on contact lenses. I had to prove that I could successfully put them in, take them out, then put them back in. I passed with semi-flying colors. I was able to do it and felt confident in the upcoming week-long trial of said contacts. I leave feeling empowered.
Today I woke up with glasses and decided I was going to put in my contacts before I left for a lunch date with Mother-in-Law. The time finally came for me to put them in and I felt some weird panic about putting them in inside-out. I'm not sure where the fear came from, or why I was so freaked out about it since they were just contacts, but I fiddled with the right contact a few times before I tried to put it in.
I got the right one it. It felt weird. I took it out. Which way was inside-out? Hm. I flip it and stick it back in. It still felt weird. So I just left it since it felt weird either way and I was on my way out the door. I already had the left one in because I didn't have much struggle with it and it felt so great I didn't even notice it in there!
I had a great lunch date with Mother-in-Law. Had a few beers, stopped by Jo-Ann's, fun times.
I get home and decide my contacts need to come out. I go to the bathroom, reminiscing about how simple it was to take them out the day before. I poke myself in the eye. That hurt like hell. It stung a lot. I couldn't figure out why, so I try the other eye, same result. This was strange. I keep doing the same thing. Why was this so difficult today? I figured that I was just jumpy and I wasn't getting good contact between my finger and the lens. I squirt some solution on my finger, try again. My mascara is running down my face and after an hour of poking myself in the eyes, I give up. I wait for Husband to come home.
Husband comes home. I tell him my dilemma: I can't get my contacts out. I told him they were either glued to my eyeballs or they fell out. We both agreed that I would have totally noticed if they fell out. I never remember anything falling out of my eyes. So he tries. He sticks his finger in my eye and I just blinked too much for that to ever have worked. I ask if he can see the contacts. He grabs a flashlight and takes a gander like he's some kind of doctor. He says he thinks he sees them in there. So we go back to poking my eyes.
I give up for an hour because my eyeballs just hurt so bad from the poking and prodding I needed to give them a rest. Bedtime rolls around and I am determined to get these damn things out of my eyes. I stick a finger in, drag it across my eyeball, and officially give up. I figure if they aren't coming out after that they can just rot in there. I am going to see the eye doctor next week for my follow-up anyways. Eff this.
Tomorrow I have a deposition. Awesome. It looks like I've been getting baked for the entire week.
Stacey: 0 v. Hygiene: 1
ETA: They fell out. I found one on the bathroom heater just a few days later. Don't ask me how it got there.
I had a great appointment and decided on contact lenses. I had to prove that I could successfully put them in, take them out, then put them back in. I passed with semi-flying colors. I was able to do it and felt confident in the upcoming week-long trial of said contacts. I leave feeling empowered.
Today I woke up with glasses and decided I was going to put in my contacts before I left for a lunch date with Mother-in-Law. The time finally came for me to put them in and I felt some weird panic about putting them in inside-out. I'm not sure where the fear came from, or why I was so freaked out about it since they were just contacts, but I fiddled with the right contact a few times before I tried to put it in.
I got the right one it. It felt weird. I took it out. Which way was inside-out? Hm. I flip it and stick it back in. It still felt weird. So I just left it since it felt weird either way and I was on my way out the door. I already had the left one in because I didn't have much struggle with it and it felt so great I didn't even notice it in there!
I had a great lunch date with Mother-in-Law. Had a few beers, stopped by Jo-Ann's, fun times.
I get home and decide my contacts need to come out. I go to the bathroom, reminiscing about how simple it was to take them out the day before. I poke myself in the eye. That hurt like hell. It stung a lot. I couldn't figure out why, so I try the other eye, same result. This was strange. I keep doing the same thing. Why was this so difficult today? I figured that I was just jumpy and I wasn't getting good contact between my finger and the lens. I squirt some solution on my finger, try again. My mascara is running down my face and after an hour of poking myself in the eyes, I give up. I wait for Husband to come home.
Husband comes home. I tell him my dilemma: I can't get my contacts out. I told him they were either glued to my eyeballs or they fell out. We both agreed that I would have totally noticed if they fell out. I never remember anything falling out of my eyes. So he tries. He sticks his finger in my eye and I just blinked too much for that to ever have worked. I ask if he can see the contacts. He grabs a flashlight and takes a gander like he's some kind of doctor. He says he thinks he sees them in there. So we go back to poking my eyes.
I give up for an hour because my eyeballs just hurt so bad from the poking and prodding I needed to give them a rest. Bedtime rolls around and I am determined to get these damn things out of my eyes. I stick a finger in, drag it across my eyeball, and officially give up. I figure if they aren't coming out after that they can just rot in there. I am going to see the eye doctor next week for my follow-up anyways. Eff this.
Tomorrow I have a deposition. Awesome. It looks like I've been getting baked for the entire week.
Stacey: 0 v. Hygiene: 1
ETA: They fell out. I found one on the bathroom heater just a few days later. Don't ask me how it got there.
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