A friend of mine told me that he challenges himself to write 1000 words a day.  He sets his alarm at 5:30 every morning so he can get up and write.  Now, I don’t know how successful he is at this, as he says he snoozes his alarm, more often than not, but he is committed to writing.  I greatly respect this.  While, early morning writing isn’t for me, as I’ve never been a morning person, I like the idea of writing every day.  So I am going to.  I may not publish it all but I will challenge myself just the same.

As I’ve recently had my 33rd birthday, I fondly reflect on everything that I have and the experiences that have made me who I am.  I’m truly lucky.  I cannot wait to see what the rest of my life has in store for me.  Will I write a book?  Will I travel the world?  Will I fall in love?  The world is open to so many possibilities for us all.  You might wonder why this entry is different from my previous entries.  All I can say is I am happy.  Very, very happy.  That being said, which story should I tell next?  I’m not in the mood for bad dating stories at the moment, seeing as things are looking up as of late.  How about an Ambian story or two?

My mom is an avid user of Ambian.  She takes it every night, without fail.  Now, we discovered that if she does not commit to going to sleep when she takes it, interesting things happen.  The first time we discovered the amusing side effects, I was hanging out with my dad, watching baseball.  My mom bellowed down the hall, “LICORICE!!! 5 pieces!”.  I looked at my dad and asked, “Who the hell is she talking to?”.  He shrugged and replied, “Us, I suppose.”  I got up and asked where they kept the licorice.  I yelled back, “You’re only getting two pieces!”.  I took the two pieces back to her and she had the oddest look on her face.  Her eyes were mostly closed and she had on a dopy grin.  Frowning, I waived my hand in front of her face, to which she did not react, and handed her the two licorice pieces.  She took them, chomped a bite out of one and fell back onto her pillows.

The next day, I was over at my parent’s house again, with my sister, having dinner.  My mom told us what had happened that morning.  She and my dad woke up and as my father was sitting up in bed, my mom looked over at him and saw a strange sight.  Stuck to his back, was a whole piece of licorice! She had absolutely no recollection of the events of the previous evening, which definitely is a side effect of the Ambian and a theme to all the stories I have like this.  As she was telling us this tale, she was getting ready for bed, putting on her nightgown.  It must have been the same nightgown from the night before because, in the folds, she discovered a half chomped piece of licorice!  Now this is all fun and games but she has a thing with eating after she has taken this stuff. I’m a little worried she could aspirate.

Another time, she decided that she was hungry, so, in her Ambian haze, she pin-balled down the hallway to the kitchen.  She counted out 20 almonds onto a plate. At least she is a healthy eater, aside from the licorice.  She pin-balled back to her bedroom and attempted to get back into bed.  Now my mom is on the shorter side and her bed is on the higher side.  She has to lift a cheek to get in.  Since she had the almonds balanced on a plate, she had some trouble getting back into bed this night.  She managed to push the mattress off the frame and wedge herself between the nightstand, bed frame, and mattress.  Almonds flew everywhere!  She bellowed for help and my dad came running.  She still had the plate balanced in one hand with two little almonds still on it.  He helped her up and got her into bed.  Later, we were finding almonds everywhere.  Under the bed, behind the nightstand, and in her shoes, like she was a squirrel hiding nuts for winter.

Aside from eating, she does all kinds of things on this medication.  I’ll save those stories for another time.

Wow, I thought for sure I’d be able to hit 1000 words.  No such luck because this is only word 773.  I’m not giving myself such strict guidelines, as long as I write daily, I’ll be happy.  Hopefully you all will be as well 🙂

I went to lunch today with a friend from work.  She was talking about how men make women crazy and, not that I disagree with her, crazy is a two way street.  For example, I have a guy friend who has almost as good dating stories as I do.  Almost!  He tells two tales that have stuck with me over the years.  The first is the story of a chick who, legit, brought a requirement sheet of traits that her “Prince Charming” must have.  Some examples of the required features were that he graduated from an Ivy League school, that he can ballroom dance, and that his family owns a yacht.  Ok, princess, reel it in.  The second, and completely separate girl, asked my friend what his lifetime earning potential was as her opening question.  My friend was so offended he excused himself from the date.  When he reached the door to leave, he thought of exactly what his retort should have been!  *Lifts pinky to lips* ONE MILLION DOLLARS!  He was very upset he thought of that too late.

My coworker intently listened to my examples of crazy chicks and responded that she would simply like a man with a car and a job who treats her good, let alone a yacht!  Let’s keep it real, folks!  Its the simple things in life that make people truly happy.

And now, drum roll please, for your reading entertainment pleasure, I present… HUGGY BEAR!

A few years back, I agreed to meet up with a guy for coffee.  I walked into the coffee shop and scanned the room for my date.  I did not see anyone that looked familiar, yet I heard my name being called.  I scanned again and saw a man who looked vaguely like my date.  It was my date but the photo he used on the site was probably 7-8 years old.  Shockingly, I made his introduction and let him buy me a coffee.  I never understood what exactly the point was of using outdated pictures if you were going to eventually meet someone in person, unless he needed it to land the date the first place.  Honestly, he wasn’t an unattractive guy, physically.  We took our coffee to the bookstore across the way.  It was there that he proceeded to spew any and all awful things going on in his life.  He owned two houses.  Both were under water.  One was painted black on the inside so he was having trouble renting it.  I asked why he didn’t just paint it another color and he responded that it would be too hard to cover up the black.  The look on my face must have told him I thought he was odd.  It didn’t phase him one bit though.  He then told me he just got out of the hospital.  That he rolled a four wheeler and that his insurance didn’t cover all the medical bills.  He also couldn’t stand still in one place.  He kept walking back and forth, four steps in either direction.  I just kept pivoting his direction as he moved.  I couldn’t believe that he was being so negative.  This isn’t a therapy session, my friend.  You are trying to woo me not make me run for the hills.

As we ended our date, he walked me to my car.  I told him it was nice to meet him and I gave him a one arm over the shoulder, ass-out hug goodbye.  The I’m-not-interested-but-I’m-polite hug goodbye.  It was then I heard him say, “Oh no!  You’re getting a REAL hug!”.  Next thing I knew, my other arm was up and over his shoulder and he was giving me a bear hug.  He then proceeded to lift me clear off the ground.  I made a noise that was alarming, a cross between a squeal and a scream, and he set me down.  Now I have to say that I am no 110 pound girl, who you can throw over your shoulder, not that if I was, it would be OK either.  My weight may be misleading since I know how to dress my body.  I, hurriedly, said goodnight, got in my car and sat there for a little while in shock.  I couldn’t believe what had just happened.  As I began to drive out of the parking lot, I saw my date walking in the cross walk on the way back to his car.  I could see he was talking to himself.  It was before hands-free devices were really popular so I assume he was talking to himself. Then, all of a sudden, he threw his hands up above his head, exasperated in his own behavior, I can only imagine.  Needless to say, he didn’t get a second date, only to forever be know as Huggy Bear.