Thursday, October 28, 2010

my leg!

Mark and I love watching Iron Chef or Chopped late at night and falling asleep for 45 minutes or so before crawling into bed. Mark has his designated spot on the couch--it's the section that reclines back and a foot rest pops up, and I have mine--the rest of the couch to lay myself across while resting my head on his lap. Whenever this arrangement is in place, I always fall asleep. This is not anything out of the ordinary, but two nights ago, I guess when Mark came to wake me up to go to bed, I freaked out. My whole right leg was numb and as he tried to get me up, apparently I yelped a little bit and dramatically (as always)  laid back down, banging my numb leg against the couch...still yelping (or whining or groaning...whichever seems the least pleasant to you). I remember being so scared, like my leg was cut off and I'd never walk again. I think I scared him.....

Why do I do such strange things? We didn't talk about it until last night, when he reminded me of my strange behavior. I clearly stated:
#1- All strange and odd behavior is EXCUSED when I am pretty much dead asleep.
And #2- That was really scary and it did hurt getting up....

Sorry Mark, you're stuck with me forever ;)

Wednesday, October 27, 2010


Mark believes that I am a hypochondriac. He may not have said that to me, but I know that is what he's thinking. I have woken up the past three days with a headache and sore throat and because my sister in law and her baby are sick, I thought maybe I was getting what they have. So, I called the doctor and made an appointment for yesterday at 1:40 p.m. By the time we got there, I had a full tummy of Cafe Rio and was feelin' pretty darn good. My throat wasn't as achey and I had a feeling we were wasting some time. Well instead of just canceling the appointment, we stayed and I got a strep-test...which was negative of course...and Mark just looked at me, rubbed my back and smiled, saying in an overly-sympathetic tone of voice, "Sometimes we need to go to the doctor and be told that there's nothing wrong with us, don't we?"


Wednesday, October 20, 2010

My own Hunger Games

I started reading Hunger Games on Saturday. It's addicting. I heard it would be, so why I decided to read it on Saturday when I had FIVE papers due from Monday to Wednesday perplexes me still. It's a perfect book to read during hunting season. I don't have much to do with go-out-and-shoot-deer hunting, but I heard that October is a big hunting month, and I also learned that the Celtic holiday we now called Halloween was strongly influenced by hunting game for the upcoming winter. So that's why I'm reading Hunger Games. I'm itching to get home to finish the last half! I wish I was this excited to read my history books that line our Ikea bookshelves.

Last night Mark picked me up from the longest day of school (woke up Monday morning at 5:40 a.m., bed that night at 3:30 a.m., woke up Tuesday morning 7:40 a.m.). I had been running on adrenaline to finish the last bits of all these history papers. It was about 7 when he came and got me. Well, for those of you who really know me, I get quiet when it's around 6 or 7. My brain doesn't really work, and neither does my mouth or sense of humor. Even now, Mark still tries to ignore that I'm quiet and is all smiles, giggles and fun. And don't get me wrong, when I'm not hungry and tired I am all for his smiles, giggles and fun, but when it's 7 p.m. and I'm running on 4 hours of sleep, it's time to be quiet. He soon got the hint, and got me home quickly. I thought about Hunger Games at this point--how my version of Hunting is going to school and working my brain really really hard, just as Katniss spends nearly all day going out for the kill to get her daily food supply. I like to tell people that I'm hypoglycemic and must have food every three hours or so to function. This is pretty accurate. So, if any of you see me around and it's before I have eaten lunch or dinner, then don't be offended if I just faintly smile, yawn, and walk to my next location, which is either Cafe Rio or home where chocolate chips reside, thankfully.