Old News - December 2004
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His Side December 5, 2004 - It's 6:30 in the morning and I can't sleep because our kitten Nimbus is chasing his tail around and around at the foot of the bed, which is different from what he usually does when I'm trying to sleep: attacking my feet. So what's new with us? The house is decorated for Christmas (picture coming), except for the tree. My Jeep is in the shop getting a wheel bearing assembly replaced (that's my $400 Christmas present) so we're going to wait until we get it back before we bring home a tree, to avoid having to strap an eight-foot tall conifer to the roof of Stacey's Sentra. Yesterday we saw an awesome Christmas music presentation at Pine Lake Baptist Church. This is a pretty huge church with a very very professional choir. On top of that, there were two other choirs of what looked like teens and pre-teens (We were up the in the nose bleed section, so that's my guess as to the difference between the two) that did a great performance (it was better than "Cats"!) including a rendition of "Little Drummer Boy" with a "Stomp" sequence. Great, the cat's gone. I'm going back to sleep. December 2, 2004 - I'm so glad that my wife is spending her time doing productive things. Actually, this reminds me of one time back in college... Stacey was crashing on the couch in the apartment that I shared with three other students at UNO. I don't know how it started, but all of a sudden Stacey, our friend Shane, and I were in a contest to make up euphemisms for poop. I think the first one we came up with was "Trouser Chili". We must have come up with about 200 different euphemisms, and stayed up ALL night doing it. Part of the time that we were doing this, we were all actually lying down in our respective rooms - me in my bedroom, Shane in his, and Stacey on the couch - and just shouting back and forth across the apartment. A really funny one would warrant one of us actually getting up and walking into the living room to deliver it. At about 7am I decided that I wasn't going to get any sleep so I got up to make some pancakes. While I was doing that, Shane came up with the winner for the night: "Feces Pieces" Remember kids, a college education is important. |
Her Side 12-27-04 - Please, please pray for the people on the entire coastline of the Indian Ocean and their families. The coastlines of several countries including India, Thailand, Sumatra, and Sri Lanka were hit by a major tsunami caused by an earthquake that would have wiped out the whole city of Los Angeles. The estimated death toll is up to around 30,000. Read that number again - THIRTY THOUSAND. That's over twice my city's population. I can't stop reading the news about this absolute tragedy, and I can't stop thinking about how awful it would be to suffer such a thing. Please, people, pray pray pray. If you can, DO MORE. In any event... I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. I might not update for a couple of days, as my favorite big sister is in town hanging out with me. I'll be more positive eventually, but I can't say I had the greatest holiday ever. Here's the story of the first Christmas to cheer you up. Praise God, a King is born! 12-22-04 - Hmm... At first, I was a little perplexed when Cousin Jonathan said I update this website in "spurts," but now I think he's right. Nothing says the holidays like a picture essay of kids scared of Santa. Honestly, I'd cry if my parents planted me in the lap of a few of these Santas. America's Most Wanted, indeed. I'd also cry if my parents had named me something, like, so trendy like Cade or Kaili. Kaili?? Come on, people, it's cute when she's 2, but you're giving the kid a one-way ticket to Stripperville. And now, reason 568 on the "Why Stacey shouldn't sleep really late in the morning" list. I had just woken up from a pleasant dream where I freed myself, my French host mother, Britney Spears, and some guy dressed like a Buckingham palace guard from a plane headed for Morocco that we hadn't intended to board. It was a fun dream, lots of laughs. When I woke up, it was 8:45. I spent a little more time in bed, snuggling in my ridiculously comfortable down blanket. I got out of bed, walked into the living room, and noticed that New Friends Shane and Emily had opened their presents which they had left under the tree. Shane was sitting with Drew at our dining room table. I asked when they had opened their presents, and Shane said that after I finished my margarita last night, I fell asleep. While I was puzzling over how one margarita could knock me out, Drew said that Shane was meeting with a few friends at a mall nearby and wanted to know if I wanted to come along. I said sure, threw on some clothes, and decided to meet them at the mall in my own car. Only, for some reason, my own car wasn't my trusty '94 Sentra, it was my little brother's truck. As I was pulling into the mall, Cousin Rebecca was there to meet me and give me a picture of her mom to add to a business card I was creating for her. (Something else my psyche made up. Random.) Anyway, I met Drew, and we went into the "store" where Shane was meeting all of his friends. Shane was sitting at the head of a long, conference-type table with a lot of imposing people, including, of course, Snoop Dogg. We sat at the end of the table, and the group carried on their conversation. Drew and I weren't really paying attention until we saw Shane yell "He's going to have to DIE!" and point at poor Snoop Dogg. I was horrified. I tried to stand in front of Snoop to protect him, but when they came after me with an axe, I decided my life was worth more than his, and ran like the wind. (Well, as fast as a 250-pound-wind can run.) When I got out to the parking lot, I noticed that there were zombies running around shooting at cars, and it dawned on me that they were looking for me. So I picked up the nearest dead fat guy to block for me. I dragged him along with me so the zombie would shoot at him and not at me. When I finally got close to my brother's car, I dropped the fat guy and ran to the door, which was already open. I went to jump into the car, and noticed Snoop laying there in all his dead glory. I shoved him over, jumped in, and drove off. Only then did I realize this was a dream and try to force myself to wake up. When I did wake up, I swear, I still felt Snoop's feet against my leg. Tomorrow, I wake up and STAY up at 8am. 12-8-04 - I think one of the best feelings in the world is deciding what you're getting your husband for Christmas in August, getting it for him with no paper trail, and having him guess several things and while he doesn't even come close, you know he's absolutely going to love what you've gotten him. Yeah, that's a wonderful feeling. Especially since your husband has a sneaky way of getting you to tell him what you've gotten him. 12-5-04 - Drew and I went to church today. After church, we went to the sweet, sweet land of delicious chicken wings, large TV screens, screaming drunk people, and quirky slogans on cardboard coasters. This land is also known as Buffalo Wild Wings, a sports bar/restaurant known for its delicious chicken wings. I ordered 12 Thai wings from the medium spicy column, and 6 sweet BBQ wings from the mild spicy column. I've had the Thai before and while it does make my lips burn a little, the level of delicious makes the burning worth it. Drew, on the other hand, ordered 6 Thai, 6 Caribbean Jerk, and 6 Spicy Garlic wings, all three from the medium spicy column. While my husband can handle him some spicy things, the wings from the spicy spicy column of the wings menu at Buffalo Wild Wings would send Beelzebub on a frantic search for celery and milk. So I was tearing through my Thai chicken wings, sauce and bones and the occasional sweet BBQ wing flying everywhere. Those wings were GOOD, lemme tell you. Then, for some reason, my husband said he'd trade me a Caribbean jerk wing for a sweet BBQ wing. That, my friends, was the beginning of the rest of my life. I took the first bite of the Caribbean jerk wing and it was GREAT. It was slightly spicy, not much more spicy than the Thai wings, and with a hint of cinnamon and clove. It was delicious. I took the second bite, and that's when it started to burn. Hmm, it's spicy. On the third bite, it started to burn like the VERY FIRES OF HELL. I was in so much pain. My lips were swollen, my tongue was revolting and trying to dive into my water, my face was red, and I was crying. At one point, I ran out of water and while waiting for the waitress to deliver, I was so desperate that I almost took a sip of Drew's beer and I HATE BEER. All in all, it took me about 15 minutes to get back to normal. All that from 3 bites of a chicken wing. Who knew? I sure wish they would have had milk though. After I was back to normal, I went into the bathroom to wash my hands and looked in the mirror to fix my hair and saw something shiny. No, it wasn't a Christmas light. No, it wasn't a neon beer sign. It was a grey hair. On my HEAD! Not only did a Caribbean jerk chicken wing light me on FIRE, it turned my hair grey! Drew found another one on the way home, and kept staring at me as if I were going to wrinkle, desiccate, and go to meet the Lord Jesus Christ all while trying to drive home. Sigh. I have grey hair now. Ah well, it happens young in my family. I guess I'm 24 and past my prime. My little sister's going incredibly grey but she's not actually related to me so that doesn't really matter. Look, it's 11:30pm, I'm a greying old woman, you can't expect me to be coherent. Give me my Metamucil and brandy and I'm going to bed. 12-2-04 - If you had asked me yesterday that I would assist in writing a short anthology of poems on biological functions, I would have probably totally believed you. I'm just that mature. I have a cousin who is an accomplished author, an excellent poet, and an English major. She spoke on her blog of writing a poem that got published in a book that, let's face it, posts anyone's poem that gives them a couple bucks. I told her that I had also been published in such a book. She was temporarily excited about possibly having been in the same book I was, but then she remembered that I was about 5 when the book came out. I made fun of her a little, and said "I couldn't find anything that rhymed with 'Mommy, I pooped.'" She responded with a list of words that did rhyme with "pooped," and a little lament about how she was going to spend the rest of the day trying to make up a poem about poop. I decided to help her out and write a rough one, and naturally, she gave me one back. Then... well, we couldn't stop ourselves. So, without further ado, The Anthology of Poop and Fart Poems, by Nina Rogers and Stacey Spiehler, copyright 2004. Nina's poems are in the green. Dearest Mother, I have pooped Mommy, mommy, I must poop! Over the terlit I must stoop! Where's that bathroom again .. ? Um ... Oops. Mommy! I just went poop! Stacey's mind is in the gutter It's enough to make me shudder She's writing about a poopy meal Just as I'm watching my soup congeal My sincere apology To write poems on poop is an art It's so hard to stop once you start But, you know there is one Subject that is more fun To discuss--and that is the fart! Blasting trumpets, refreshing wind I guess I won, because her last e-mail to me was a resounding "YUCK!!!!!!" Don't mess with the girl who actually owns pens that say "Poopin' is cool."
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