Vacation Planning...

The Hubster and I have not been on an honest-to-goodness-just-me-and-him-vacation since we got married.  For the last 3 years we've talked about going somewhere... for our anniversary or just to get away but when the time is good for me, it's plain awful for him and vise versa. 

So after years of talking I finally made up my mind that a vacation was going to happen-- come hell or high water.  We've decided on Charleston, South Carolina-- actually, I made up our minds for us.  And now I'm trying to decide on hotels.  I want to stay downtown.  I don't want to have to find a parking spot each and every day... I just want to wake up and start walking around town. 

This trip is all about architecture.  With the dream house looming... I really should think of a less depressing word than "looming" but at this point I'm all out of bright and happy words... I need to have my ideas in mind and documented in pictures.  I keep hearing that once we get started contractors do not like to wait on the wife to make up her mind.  They like to keep moving.

So why not take the end of October, over my birthday, and take in the sites, eat some great food and relax a bit? 

I've got my mind set on three hotels.  We are staying three nights-- maybe I should book a room at each for each night?  But seriously, I'm freaking out about hidden costs.  The most expensive hotel, that is right downtown seems to be the best bet, because parking seems to be included in the cost.  The other hotel that I like that is just a little bit cheaper charges for parking.  The third hotel is sort of in the same boat with the paying for parking thing...

I just wish someone would make up their mind for me.  It would be so less stressful... I think I know why the Hubster and I haven't been on a "just us" vacation in three years!

Obscure Objects...

I just love it when the Hubster comes home, unresponsive and looking for some obscure object that he may or may not have brought home several days, months and/or years ago and then appears mad with me because he suspects that I may have moved said obscure object-- or worse, thrown it away!

The Hubster brings home lots of objects.  I have a green vase/bowl full of receipts, change, nails, nuts and bolts, match books, lighters, business cards, small wrenches, flashlights, batteries-- you name it, I've got it and I got it because it came home in Hubster's pockets.

Just now the Hubster burst through the door and immediately started tearing through one of the basket that I keep his "junk" in and when I asked him-- "what are you doing home so early?" I get a sarcastic reply and a series of grunts.

I helped him look, of course-- this time for (I think) the attachment to an air hose.  I'm almost positive that I've not ran across anything similar since we blew up the starter pool back in June.  And since that time the air tank is back at his parent's house and/or possibly the farm.  So I decided to let him alone to figure this one out on his own.

I'm not sure if he found it or not.

I wish I lived in a house where everything thing-- including obscure objects-- had a place.  I wish I was one of those wives that could automatically produce whatever it was that her husband or family was looking. Obviously I'm not that sort of person.  As I write I have stacks of mail over-flowing my kitchen table... on this very computer desk are several documents that need to be either A) thrown away or B) filed away, neatly.

Obviously I'm not that sort of person-- I'm the sort of person that let's her husband keep a green vase/bowl full of obscure objects and when that vase/bowl fills up I get him another basket to fill.

Can you say Hoarder?  How 'bout enabler?

I Hate Hog Slat...

Thursday night, maybe it was over supper, the Hubster told me that we'd be, most likely, going to the Reverse Raffle that the local fire department was holding Friday night.  I'll be honest with you, I was less than thrilled at the idea of spending my Friday night in a dark, loud, uncomfortable banquet hall straining to hear over the music, so I could hear what the person standing beside me was saying.  But, as with most things where the Hubster is concerned, I didn't get my way.

We got to the Reverse Raffle late.  Late enough I was positive that our names were already drawn out and that we'd be able to leave and eat real food, instead of the finger foods that the Fire Department was offering, real soon.  We get in the door and my in-laws tell us that we are still in the drawing for the $10,000 bucks.  I can't lie, I was little disappointed because I was hungry and I didn't want to have to stay... after all, the Hubster won one year already so what's the chance of him winning again?

You see, the whole point with a Reverse Raffle is to not have your name called out.  If you're the last name called, you win... and you could win a lot of cash.  It is a pretty fun fundraiser, in my opinion, except for this night, I just wanted to go back home and veg out on the couch while watching TLC's "Say Yes to the Dress: Atlanta."

So the band stopped playing and the firemen started calling out names.  Amy Richards... Greg Holland... Tom's Tire and Auto... etc., etc., etc.  I was surprised that our name hadn't been called.  The announcer stopped at the last 10 names and said the band would play one more set and then the winner would be announced. 

At that moment I realized we were still in it and we possibly could win!  I got nervous and I started to regret that I had ate so many cucumber sandwiches earlier in the night.  I was pretty muched sucked in at this point.

The Hubster and I quick conferenced... if we get in the top five we'd split with the remaining names and go home with $2,000 bucks.  $2,000 bucks sure would replace all that money we spent on a second set of house plans this past summer and there probably would be enough money left over that the Hubster could finally buy (guilt-free) the pair of boots he's been lusting after for as long as I've known him.

After what seemed like an eternity, the band stopped playing and the firemen came back to call out the rest of the names.  Richard & Carmen Jones... Paula Vann... Erin Winbourne... Brinkley & Bob Zornes... Josh Peters.  We were in the top five.  They called the Hubster up along with the other four ticket holders.  You could see them talking and I could see the Hubster saying "split."  I just knew that we'd be coming home with $2,000 dollars and suddenly I didn't really care that all I had had to eat all day was a bad sandwich at work and 3 cucumber sandwichs and cheese cubes at the drawing.  Suddenly I started thinking about how wonderful it would be to put back the money we spent this summer into our savings account.  Suddenly I was just in the very best of moods... and then suddenly the annoucers said, "Well, the rules say, ladies and gentlemen, that if one ticket holder refuses to split then we've got to keep going on with the drawing, and Hog Slat's representative says she won't split, so we've got to keep drawing out names.  Sorry folks." 

Hog Slat is a local company that has millions upon millions of dollars and they now are my least favorite company in the world. 

We were all standing back, praying that the next name out would be Hog Slat and then they could split.  But it wasn't.  We were now in the top four.  If the next name out was Hog Slat, then we'd be going home with a little more than $2,000 dollars.

It all happened really fast.  The announcer spoke clearly and fast.  Rest assured, it was our name and we were out.  The Hubster took the walk of shame back to where I was standing, disappointed and mad.  Hog Slat made it to the top two and luckily lost out to a much more deserving couple. 

I stayed mad well into the next day.  I was pretty much on my 3rd cup of coffee at my Daughters of the American Revolution meeting at the country club Saturday moring before I was even fit to be around.  Y'all I really hate being right all the time, but I'd been so much better off on my couch Friday night completely clueless as to what was going on at the drawing.  No more Reverse Raffles for me... I can tell you that Hubster.  And Hog Slat, you'd better just figure that y'all won't be getting no business from any of mine for a good long while.

If You're Marring My Sister: Please Don't Read Any Further...

So I promised I'd finish writing about our Marathon Beach Vacation... but I think that ship has sailed.  Since coming home from the beach, work has started back, my brother-in-law is home from Basic Training, and my cousin's boyfriend who was diagnosed with cancer two years ago (a month before their wedding) is dying...so I don't feel like telling you about how my cousin drank a FourLoco while on vacation and thought that Aquafina bottled water was from the devil.

Seriously, though... it's been a very hectic couple of weeks.  And to make matters a little more hectic, my sister has been shopping for a wedding dress.  For the last few weeks, our weekends have been spent shopping for the elusive "perfect" dress.

People that have never been wedding dress shopping think it is going to be just fun piled up on top of fun.  In my experience it's really more stressful than fun.  First of all, the dresses are designed to be beautiful... so they all pretty much look nice on you.  Second of all, people make you think that you are to have some sort of emotional reaction when you like a dress, which only puts pressure on the bride-to-be because what if you're the one bride in the United States of America that never gets that teary-eyed feeling?  What does that say about you?

So wedding dress shopping, for my sister, turned out to be pretty much one headache after the other, until today.

Today we found the perfect dress...

It's a Spanish designer that I can't remember the name of.  The sash was my idea.  Once the dress comes in, we are going to have a slight sweetheart neckline added and make the back V.  We are thinking of having the sash remade with parts of our mom's wedding dress which I think, if it can be done, is an awesome idea.

We brought along my sister's best friend and college room-mate.  She was our emotional thermometer and cried anytime she liked a dress.  It was good to have her along because we are all dead inside and don't cry about wedding dresses.

For those of you in the Raleigh area-- the place we shopped at was Victorian Rose Bridal on Glenwood Avenue, downtown.  I got my dress their three years ago and anytime I know someone getting married I always refer them there.  The ladies their are great... the dresses are great... and you get top-notch assistance.

Hopefully, now that we have the perfect dress things will start falling into place!

Beach Vacation, Part II Putt-Putt Putting Around...

After leaving Myrtle Beach we made a little stop over at the old homestead.  The Hubster had some work to attend to and I wanted to get a handle on our dirty laundry.  So he went to work on Tuesday (last Tuesday) and I did laundry and re-packed.

Wednesday we left for Emerald Isle.  As mentioned in an earlier post, my uncle rented a huge house for us to stay in.  Huge really doesn't describe it.  Seven bedroom, ten bathrooms-- every shower except for two had five shower heads!  The views were breath-taking and almost all were oceanfront.  The bottom floor had a movie theater in it. An. Honest. To. Goodness. Movie. Theater.   It even had real theater seats-- except they were nice and clean! 

This house even had an elevator.  I refused to ride in it, but there was an honest to goodness elevator!

The pool and the hot tub were awesome.  Everything was just awesome.  It made coming home a little sad.  But I saw my Uncle and Aunt a few days ago and they are already planning a trip for next year!

Golfin' Dolphin

We got down to Emerald Isle just before it was time for supper.  Ribs and Chops were on the menu and they were fabulous.  I wish I had some right now.  After supper we, the cousin's, the cousin's boyfriends and husbands, and friends of cousins, decided to head out for a little putt-putt.  I dont' know what it is about being at the beach that makes people want to play putt-putt?  I wasn't really game, but I tagged along.

It took two large SUV's to get us to the Golfin' Dolphin. 

Putt-Putt makes my sister very happy.

Her happiness makes her pose by trees next to artificial blue water rivers with our cousin Audrey...

And the happiness makes her pose on-top of rocks.  Now that's a keeper!

My cousin Annah strikes a very interesting pose because Putt-Putt also makes her very happy.

Some people, like Marshall, take Putt-Putt very seriously and like to keep score.

And some people, like Christian and Ashton, like to comment on every one's game. Jessica is smiling, but she is dying inside...

Putt-Putt brings people together...

And drags them apart...

It makes my cousin Michael thoughtful by large waterfalls.

Putt-Putt makes some people contemplate the world around them while posing on artificial rocks...

But Putt-Putt can be dangerous and make you bleed.  Poor Brooks!

Putt-Putt can make people pretend to fall...

All-in-all, I think Putt-Putt is good for your self-esteem.  See how happy everyone is?

And eventually, it comes to an end.

Which is a good thing, because I'm pretty sure our party offended the family behind us with all our posing and camera flashing and potty mouths.

But end the end... it was worth it!

Next Post:  Fun at the Pool

Beach Vacation, Part I Sun Stroked...

I'm a little ticked... I carried my camera and every thing ready to pop a picture of something for my blog about the first part of my beach marathon vacation... however, that didn't happen.  Nothing note worthy really took place-- other than I almost died on the beach...

Before the end of the school year I made a vow that I would read Jane Austen.  I took American Lit in college and so Jane was lost to me. My high school, a large rural school, could have never put Emma on a reading list without the uproar of several hundred deer hunters.  So on Sunday, I'm on the beach with the Hubster, his middle brother, his middle brother's girlfriend, and the Hubster's mom and dad.  I'm reading Northanger Abbey and laying out in my new mismatched J.Crew two-piece.

I took extra care not to get burned-- I lubed up on SPF 30 with double protection from the Sun's UVB rays as well as the UVA rays.  I had on my Jarrett Bay sun visor and a huge pair of sunglasses... so what could go wrong?

Sunday was especially hot, but there was a breeze and I was pretty much okay.  The men were in the water, the ladies on the beach.  Between chapters we would talk about clothes, shopping, and what we wanted to do later that night.  After a short time, a few in our party decided to go hang out at the pool.  The Hubster was still in the ocean and I was fine reading, so I didn't go with the others.  Soon it was just me on the beach with my book while the Hubster floated in the green, green water.

Occassionally, I'd look out on him and make sure he was still there, floating just beyond where the waves break, with thoughts of Shark Week still fresh in my memory.  He really loves the ocean. I tolerate it.

Meanwhile, back on the beach I'm starting to get a little hot.  I'm starting to feel a little sick too.  But I shake it off.  Afterall, I didn't eat much of anything for breakfast and I certainly had had no liquid other than a sip of the Hubster's morning Mountain Dew and a sip of his Bud Light.  I chalked up my bad feeling to the aforementioned and that I had been reading-- which sometimes makes me a little dizzy, especially if I read in bright sunlight.

Eventually the Hubster got out of the water and made his way back to where I was set up.  He laid around while I complained a little about the heat.  I had made up my mind that I wanted to leave and I was going to leave... he came with me.

And that was when I thought I was going to die.  I started seeing black spots and my legs didn't want to work.  I could feel that sick feeling sort of spread from my stomach to the back of my throat.  I was hot and my heart was beating way too fast for the amount of exercise I was putting forth-- we were just walking up some stairs, hardly any cardio at all considering the slow rate we were moving.

I was conveniced that I was going to throw-up or faint... when we stopped at the outdoor shower to rinse off the sand I bent down to center myself.  The Hubster was embarrassed-- I could tell-- and little scared as to what to do with me if I did fall dead. 

After what seemed like a long time, we made it back to the house-- which really is a very short walk.  I got some water and ate a little something and things started to get better-- at least for me to stop shaking.  Later that night we had sometime to go around to all the Wings, Eagles, and Bargain Beach Marts to look at inappropriate tee-shirts and sharks' in a jar.

I'm not sure what exactly happened earlier that day... I'm not sure if I was starting to Sun Stroke or if I just got too hot, but all I know is that I was scared and I don't want to do that again.

Today we are to go to part two of vacation.  I plan to be more considerate of myself this time around.  I'm adding hydration to my check list along with my camera and my sunscreen.

Next week I'll be back at work... the last few days of summer... better enjoy them!

Random Ramblings (The New Fist-Puming Rednecks & Naked Men in Wells)...

Tomorrow at this time I'll be on my way to the Redneck Rivera... otherwise known as Myrtle Beach.  That means about three hours before right now, tomorrow, I'll be frantically packing up myself and the Hubster.  I forgot to pack his underwear one time-- you think he'll let me forget this time?  Maybe he'll just start packing himself. 

Tonight, date night, we will be dining at Mucho Mexico with a few other friends and couples and after that my sister is going to cut the Hubster's hair.  She isn't a hair stylist by trade-- she just learned to groom dogs with my Aunt Arlene when she was in high school and says cutting people's hair isn't that much different.  She now cuts his hair, my father's hair, and her boyfriend's hair exclusively.

The Hubster wants to look, "fresh-to-death" for the beach.  We've got to stop watching "Jersey Shore."

But speaking of that little screen gem, "Jersey Shore," the Hubster and I have decided that no one can really make fun of Southern people anymore, can they?  We're all equal now.  Thanks to the power of TV all of us people in the South, who grew up thinking that we were backwards can now feel that we've been vindicated.  We know your dirty little secret UP NORTH.  How does it feel to have your own version on a Redneck? 

But I digress, tomorrow will start our first day of our annual marathon vacations.  First Myrtle Beach and then onto the Anna Victoria in Emerald Isle.

The following week I go back to work.  I am not sure how I feel about this prospect.  I neither dread it or relish it... happily I have a brand new co-worker that I'll be working with and I'm very excited.  We met yesterday for a few hours and discussed our plans for the coming school year.  I'm very pleased.

I'm hoping to come home from the beach with a good number of photos and stories.  Stay tuned.

But before I leave, I heard a very funny and unfortunately true story...

So we were at Cousin Micheal's barn enjoying a fish fry and celebrating Cousin Wayne's birthday about a week ago when one of the guests starting talking about his sister-in-law, the Sunday School Teacher. The people around this fellow were laughing and acting like they understood the whole story-- my parent's included.

I being nosey, had to find out what was funny...
So here it goes... A few weeks ago a man from Carolina Beach found himself in the lower portion of the county-- a good hour and 30 minutes from home.  He parked his Lexus on a little back road and decided to take a walk-- Naked as a jaybird, excepting the red baseball cap he wore on his head!  He would later say that he was "exploring the universe."  He walked or better yet, explored to the end of the road and made his way onto Devil's Race Track Road, where the Sunday School Teacher and her family lives and broke into her house.

How this man walked down the road naked a pretty good ways and no one said anything is still a wonderment to me, but then again, people tend to mind their business and I don't know anyone that would want to question a naked stranger man.  Do you?

So the naked man broke into the house and decided that he had to use the bathroom.  He found his way to the Master Suite where a bathroom was located-- but instead of doing his business in the proper place, he took a nice big number two right on top of the Sunday School Teacher's bed!  He used her granddaughter's stuffed animal as toilet paper.  I think he then got himself a snack from their kitchen.

Upon leaving that house he explored some more, found his way onto another road and got himself noticed when he tried to break into some more houses and a car. Eventually the police were called.  The naked man decided that the best place for him to hide was at an open well nearby.  He jumped into the well and stayed there until the police and fire crews pulled him out.  I read about the naked well man in the paper a few weeks back, but had no idea that this man had gone and done his business at someone's house.  No, that little tid-bit was left out of the papers!

While all this was going on, the Sunday School Teacher was discovering the gift left for her and when the police came to question her and take a look around that was when she made them an offer.  According to her brother-in-law she pleaded with the policeman to bring the naked man to her so she could kill him.  When the police told her that he wasn't at liberties to do such, she then said, "well then, I'll go to him and kill him at the jailhouse." I'm pretty sure she was serious too.

I can't say that I blame the woman.  Right after I burned my bedding, the mattress and the frame, I'd be casing the jailhouse myself. 

They family had to empty out their refrigerator, freezer and practically Clorox the whole entire house and probably repair where the man broke in.  Apparently this man has done this sort of thing before.  I was told that the had priors and that police were looking into his mental health.

When you think you've heard it all... 


Have a good weekend y'all!