Yeah, I Snagged the Poster

Is it egotistical to frame and hang the poster from your first Barnes & Noble book signing event on your office wall? If so, too bad. I nabbed the poster you see in this picture and have it framed and hanging over my file folders at home. Thanks to Melody Watson for thinking to bring a camera to the event!! ☺

WMMM signing at Greensboro, NC Barnes & Noble

Stink Bug As Pet

I'm on the couch in the library with my laptop, checking e-mail, when I notice a beige something at the top of the fish tank. At first I think it is one of our two cory's, feeding. But no, the beige blob does not do the Cory trick of hitting the top of the tank then diving back down, then racing to the top then diving back down. 

The beige blob is stationary. 

Crap. I bet it's a Cory gone belly up. We just lost Big Blue to some sort of eye disease and it seems cruel to lose another fish so soon.

I go over to the tank and realize that not only is the beige blob not a Cory, it's also not stationary. It is a stink bug, legs paddling madly to keep its head above water.

Since a bug is involved, I call in the husband. (I'm more of a traditionalist than you think.) Blair pulls out the net but before he even scoops up the stink bug, the little guy climbs along the edge and, I think, collapses with relief. 

"Yea, you saved him," I cheer. 

"There you go, little fella," says Blair, turning the stink bug onto the floor. 

Uh, the floor?

And so I say, "Uh, the floor?" 

Blair looks at me. "The floor is bad?"

I hasten to assure him this is not so. "I mean, I was thinking more along the lines of releasing him outside but you know, whatever. We can keep him as a pet." 

Blair scoops the bug up but now I'm worried about his health. God knows how long he was treading water. "You don't have to take him out right this minute," I say, motherly concern kicking in. "He's all wet and I don't want him to freeze."

"Well, let's just see what we have," says Blair. He steps outside and finds a sunny spot in which to release Phil. (I named him as Blair carried him to the door.) "I think he'll be okay."

"Bye, Phil!" I call. "Good luck!"

And oddly enough, I mean it. 

End of Year Indulgences

Blair's on vacation until the New Year. We drove to Fayetteville on Sunday to have Christmas with family there. As per tradition, on the way down we discussed our goals and intentions for the new year. And, as per tradition, we are now in an anything-goes-free-for-all until year end.

Right now we're sitting on the couch, eating Doritos and M&M's and watching bad Food Network TV. That's right, baby. We have two weeks to be sloths, eat crap, and watch TV that destroys brain cells. Believe it or not, we really will snap out of it come January 2nd. (I refuse to begin New Year's goals on January 1st. I usually sleep late, don't exercise, and finish up food leftovers from the night before. It's pointless to resist so I just nudge the start day ahead a day.) 

A couple standouts about my New Year's goals this year that I'm rather proud of:

1. For the first time in our 16 years of marriage - "Learn to cook" did NOT make the list. Yee-haw. Also missing is "Cook healthy meals," or "Cook at least 2 meals a week" or the other myriad variations on this theme. I've arrived. I'm there. I cook. Almost every day. Most of it is healthy food. And it only took 16 years. 

2. Also missing from this year's list? Exercise goals. Don't need 'em. Working out is finally a part of who I am. Something I do almost daily. It's no longer a "should" or a "make myself." I just do it. It only took 40 years to get here. 

 But back to slacking off. It's a miracle I can focus enough to type this blog, given the amount of sugar coursing through my veins. But it's all good. By the time January 2nd rolls around, I am so sick of eating sugar and fatty foods that I'm more than ready to go back to my healthy greens, beans, and grains. But since I am pretty vigilant for most of the year, I feel okay slacking off for a couple of weeks. In an odd way, these two "freebie" weeks always serve as a reminder to me of why I don't enjoy living like this on a regular basis. At least that's what I tell myself.

Now pass the M&M's.

Cheers,

Dena