"Time to leave for work. You drive me, Crazy?" - Rude Thing Ryan Said To Me This Morning

Hey Blogstalkers!

As I mentioned briefly in my last post, I'm currently recovering from tapering myself off of all of my anxiety and depression medications.  I still have "Break The Glass" drugs if I start to feel a bit too crazy but as of now I've not taken any of them.

I'm feeling OK as far as these things go but I've been having trouble writing and posting while my brain exists in this sort of in-between fuzzy, jelly-like state.  I should be more clear in my rambling and postulating shortly, but until then, here is a list of five things that have happened in my drug-less world in the last couple of weeks.  (Mostly in the middle of the night when I have less control than usual over my wayward brain.)

Totally laugh at me all you want.


1. My doctor recommended yoga (for the hundredth time) as a good way to deal with mental issues without using drugs so on Monday Ryan and I attended a Beginners' Vinyasa Flow Yoga class at our gym. The class is pretty large so the instructor roams about the room making small adjustments and complimenting everyone's yoga prowess.  She told Ryan twice that one of his Warrior Poses was "quite strong" while she'd say things to me like, "Just keep coming back to class, you'll get it!" or "Feel free to go into Child's Pose if this one is too advanced for you."  Finally we were doing what I thought a quite difficult rearranging of the limbs and she was all, "Excellent job!" from across the room and so I gave Ryan a snooty look and was like "HA! Ryan, this is way harder than dumb Warrior Pose, it's probably called something like Burning Fire Dragon Pose or Bravest Lady In The World Pose."  Then the instructor came over and was like, "Wonderful! You're great at Pigeon Pose for a beginner!"

Seriously though.

Warrior Pose:
Pigeon Pose: 

2. I've been into my doctor a bunch because we're monitoring my withdrawal symptoms and other things and yesterday I was there and they had me change into a gown.  Here are three things you should know: It was the day after yoga.  I'm anemic and I bruise really easily.  My doctor works with a teaching hospital so there are often interns in and out of the exam rooms.  When I changed I realized I had a HUGE bruise on each of my knee caps.  And so I said to myself, "Self, everyone is going to think you spend a lot of time on your knees and they are going to think you are a ho bag."  And so to remedy that, I said at various times throughout the interns' exam,  "I'm married." and "I do a lot of yoga."  I do not think it helped my situation any.

3. Since the yoga had actually helped me get to sleep on Monday, on Tuesday afternoon I ventured back to the gym and took a Kick-Boxing class.  I usually avoid Kick-Boxing because I have abysmal balance and fall down at least once or twice a class but I convinced myself and Ryan that that was a thing of the past as I had "just done a shit-ton of yoga."  I fell down twice within the first 30 minutes.  I was starting to get a bit disheartened so I started to sing quiet little ditties to empower myself to get through the rest of class.  I was all, "Yoga, (kick!) What is it good for (kick!), Absolutely nothing (punch! kick! fall!)  Finally the class was over and the instructor was standing by the door bidding everyone farewell.  When I left he was all, "Keep at it little grasshopper."  And I was all, well shit, in just one day I've gone from a pigeon to something a pigeon eats and Ryan still gets to call himself Warrior.  And then I comforted myself with the fact that at least I married up and he was the idiot Warrior who had married himself a hairy-legged insect.


1. This morning I woke up in the closet.  With both of my dogs and the comforter from my bed.  I vaguely remember dragging it in there in the middle of the night and locking the closet door from the inside.  Ryan says when he woke up to me doing this and asked what I was doing I said, "Rattle Broom."  And then he says when he was like, "What?"  I said "RA-TUL BROOM," all slowly and deliberately and looked at him like he was missing a brain cell or two.

2. Two nights ago I had a dream that there was a rooster attacking a duck in my backyard.  For some reason I  knew the rooster was evil and so I kept trying to separate it from the duck with my foot and kept getting pecked sharply.  All the while there was a wise old man with a very long white beard sitting on the side of my house, smoking a pipe and trying to help me by proffering cliches.  "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, my dear."  And "There is more than one way to skin a cat, young warrior pigeon grasshopper princess."  To which I was all, "I wish I had a fucking cat! Skinned or unskinned, at least I could be sure it would want to help me get this rooster unlike certain pipe-smoking pacifists I know!"  And then I woke up with my head at the foot of the bed and my feet at the head of the bed, kicking my headboard.

À la prochaine Blogstalkers.  

30 Before 30

Happy Friday Blogstalkers!

Today one of my dear friends, whom I have admittedly never actually met but gchat/email/twitter stalk on a daily basis, is turning 30.  Happy Birthday Katie!  (She's doing a birthday giveaway on her blog, Words For Worms today if anyone wants to enter!)

Katie reaching this milestone made me remember that I've got just about 9 months until I myself turn 30 and I still have not made a list of 30 things I'd like to do before it goes down.

So that is what I'm doing today.

30 Before 30

1. Start a book/dinner club.  My sister gave me this idea but I sort of think it would be awesome to read like, Anna and the French Kiss and then get together and talk about it at a French restaurant or at someone's house whilst trying to make crepes.

2. Take voice lessons.  Then play and sing a song on our piano in front of people. (Dogs don't count)

3. Learn how to play chess for real, without utilizing the rules I made up in grade school.  No more "fly-overs" and definitely no "turtling."

4. Finish writing a book. 

5. Have a sandcastle building contest at the beach this summer with friends.  

6. Make a successful soufflé.  

7. Take a knife skills course.  (Then add "Awesome at Kniving" to the "Special Skills" portion of your resume.)

8. Read 150 books

9. Plant a rooftop garden.  (New hat required, clearly.) (Or bonnet maybe?)

10. Beat the original Mario Brothers game.

11. Participate in a color run.  Chicago's is currently sold out, though I am volunteering at it on June 16th so I'm looking into other cities.  Dallas in the fall maybe?  Anyone else doing one somewhere else?

12. Get my butt to the gym 5 days a week.  It'll be easier in the summer because our gym has a rooftop pool and a bar...obviously.  What? don't all gyms serve alcohol?  I can't wait to get all tipsy and fall down the stair-stepper.

13. Write a letter to myself to open at 40.  Make sure I keep this letter in my place of residence at all times.  So my dad doesn't find it...like last time...that was humiliating.

14. Babysit a young child/children.

15. Make a tee-shirt quilt for a future child using Ryan's old tee shirts.

16. Host a game night.  WIN THE GAME NIGHT.

17. Get a tattoo. (I think I know what I want but this scares the heckfire out of me.)

18. Make Ryan's 30th birthday, at which time I will still be 29, memorable.  (Secret plans with code names  are in the works....)  

19. Try Vinyasa (hot) yoga.  In the past I've proven crap at yoga, I constantly fall down and my arms get in the way of everything but the advantages of hot yoga are crazy good: lessened anxiety and depression, help with neck problems, etc.

20. Christmas in Chicago Part II.  Bigger and better.  Anyone want to join this time around?

21. Have a "Sisters & Brother ONLY" night with Jordan, Nicky, Clarke and Davis.

22. Learn all the world capitols.  (I learned all the countries last year, next year will probably be bodies of water, yuck.)

23. Get pregnant. (No we're not currently trying to get pregnant.)

24. Be forced to endure the torture that is Crossfit with my friend Megan who has been pressuring me to do it for YEARS.  ONE TIME MEGAN.

25. Attend BlogHer '13 in Chicago!

26. Find an organization at which I can volunteer regularly.

27. Participate in some sort of a flash mob.  Preferably not one I create myself as I am terrible at choreography. 

29. Learn how to use my camera in Manual.

30. In preparation for someday getting pregnant, taper myself safely (with doctor's supervision) off my medications.

So that is that!  Sorry this post didn't make you fall out of your chair laughing, but just think of the laughs me actually doing some of these things will bring!  Do you have any suggestions of things I should add?

Also, in full disclosure, I am officially this week 100% drug-free.  I have tapered off all of my anxiety and depression medications successfully.  I'm doing OK for now, just a little shaky and nervous.  So I guess that means I can cross off #30?

Last Night I Got My Engagment Ring Stuck On My Toe - I'll Tell That Story Another Time

Hey Blogstalkers!

I know I've done a post like this once before but today on a whim I checked out my Google Search Term stats for 2013 so far and OH MY GOD.  I have to share some of them with you all.

Things People Have Googled To Reach My Blog 

Filing Separately Blog - Haha, Ryan wishes.

2 boys & 1 girl. Frnds forever. - ::sigh:: I suppose.

Big Italian Nose - Shut up.  I don't come to your blog and say mean things about your nose.

Boob in coffee cub fab - I mean, that doesn't sound that fab to me, but whatever.

Cheerleader with a wedgie - Gross.  You are being inappropriate on the internet and that is not allowed.

Cinderella sitting on floor and crying - She does seem a bit of a weeper now that you mention it.  Maybe if she was less WOE IS ME all the time she'd realize that her little mouse friends can talk and sew and she is sitting on a gold mine.  Like a forget-glass-how-about-diamond-slippers sized gold mine.  Stupid Cinderella.

David Boreanaz, my underpants - Wait, I knew '<3' = 'love' but now you're telling me ',' = 'get in'?  I can not keep up with all these new-fangled keyboard shortcuts.

Dead sparrow on my porch - I'm sorry, I know how much that sucks. Here's A Perfectly Logical Way to Deal With That Situation.

Does Danica Patrick have boogers in her nose after an race - Stop asking me that, I DON'T KNOW.

Even if you hate everything nobody hates hula hoops - You know what sucks?  When you are in elementary school and someone throws a hula hoop to you like a frisbee and you don't catch it and it hits you in the face and then your gym teacher is all "Stop trying to catch it in your teeth! You are not a dog!" and your whole class thinks that is just the most hilarious thing they have ever heard and you are all, "If you don't all stop laughing I will catch you in my teeth!" and then you get a time out.

How to say happy birthday to Lauren on Facebook - Just say Happy Birthday Lauren!  Definitely don't say Happy Birthday You Big Italian Nose!

I hate it when I sneeze and hit my head - Me too!

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus. Your mom is a whore. - I guess...Santa Claus comes tonight?

I will never let you go, you're too cute. - I told you Ryan, I saved my blog in your Favorites, you can stop googling this to get to it.

I'm an accountant - This WOULD be something an accountant would google...right after googling "Today is Wednesday."  Nothing flashy or interesting for us accountants.

Kissing pickles - They're not for kissing stupid.  They're for eating.

Lauren Gallagher calves - You mean like baby cows?  Oh never mind that's a muscle right.  Yeah, mine are pretty nice, I go to the gym a lot.  Obviously. (Also as code I am forever more implementing the phrase 'baby cows' to praise people's legs in public.  Like, hey Vanessa, check out the baby cows on that dude.)

Matthew Macfadyen, my underpants - AGAIN with the comma thing.

Mostly wordless chapter books - I don't think you know how chapter books work.

Straight line that curves 20 degrees -  I don't think you know how math works.

We broke up but we can still be cousins - I don't think you know how cousins work.

Tito Jackson where does he hang out - Where there is love, he'll be there.

Justin Timberlake meow - I know right!? Justin Timberlake comma my underpants...if you know what I mean.

So that seems like enough for today.  Fess up Blogstalkers, were any of these you?

If You Give A Mouse A Shoe

First things first Blogstalkers,

The official winner of the St. Patrick's Day Giveaway (according to a random number generator) is Katie Did.  Congratulations!  There wasn't an email attached to the comment so if that is you please email me at LaurenRaeGallagher@gmail.com to go about claiming your prize.

Good luck next time to everyone else!

Anyway, today I would love to tell you a hilarious story of St. Patrick's Day in the Gallagher house but honestly it was boring.  Ryan went to the NCAA games on Saturday and I stayed home and organized my office/library and then on Sunday I just made a traditional Irish Dinner and then we drank a couple of Black and Tans and fell asleep.  So...no adventures to speak of.

Unless you count alphabetizing all of my books as an adventure.

Part of My Library
So instead I shall tell you the tale of last Thursday.

It was sort of raining in Chicago and when that happens my dogs refuse to trot along into the front yard and use the facilities.  So I have to bundle myself up and slap a leash on them and drag them across the street where they usually huddle in grass and look miserable whilst I say things like, "It's just a tiny bit of water, not the end of the world DAISY." and "Oh dear lord I hate the rain, if I was a dog I would totally refuse to go outside when it was raining."

So this particular day I belted myself into my coat* grabbed my gloves and the leashes and stomped barefoot out onto the front porch.  Not, as you probably guessed because I forgot about how shoes work, but because the front porch is where I keep my Ugg boots.  I only use these boots for taking out the trash or taking out the dogs.  They are beat-up and gross and I don't like to have them in my sparklingly clean (you keep your mouth shut RYAN) house so outside they remain.

*Sidenote: The belt on my coat is very tricky in that one has to be adept at both belts and tying knots to properly seal the coat.  So sometimes I ask Ryan to do it for me, which he does grudgingly.  One time one of his friends called to see if we were coming to brunch and Ryan was all, "Yeah I'm coming, I just need to strap Lauren into her coat first."  It was not hysterical.

I pick up the first boot and as is my custom, jam my hand into it to make sure there are no snakes or spiders hiding in the toe (in retrospect a flawed practice.)  All I feel is fuzz so onto my foot it goes.

I pick up the second boot and do the same.  Except this time my hand comes into contact with something.  At first I am like, OH that is where my one sock went the other day (the day when Ryan came home from work and I was only wearing one sock and he was like, why are you only wearing one sock? and I was like, Huh.)  So I start to grab the thing to pull it out but it starts to squirm and my whole world goes still.  As if in a trance I draw my hand out of the boot, place it back down on the porch and go back inside where I start jumping up and down and crying and squeaking like a mouse in a boot.

Eventually I calm somewhat down and retreat back upstairs, where I wash my hands countless times and drink juice straight out of the carton because I've been traumatized.  Ryan gets home about half an hour later and I tell him the dogs need to go outside.  "Ok......." he says and looks at me all oddly and then gingerly approaches me and gently rubs my arm like I am some sort of priceless objet d'art and I am like "WHAT Ryan?"

"It's just that you're standing in the middle of the kitchen drinking orange juice out of the carton, which you only do when you are traumatized, and also you are only wearing one boot."

So I told him the story about how I TOUCHED A MOUSE and he thought it was hysterical obviously because of how he always thinks things that are not in fact hysterical are hysterical.  And he laughed and laughed while I stood in the kitchen glaring at him and tapping my boot.

"Are you just about finished?" I finally ask.

"How do you know it wasn't a rat?"

And then I took me and my orange juice off to the shower where I let the hot water run over me and comforted myself with the fact that I have delicate lady feet and a rat probably could not fit in my boot and that at least the mouse was keeping warm.

Just in case it had been a rat though, I made a small sign and attached it to the boot that was still on the porch.  And then over the course of the night as Ryan came up with increasingly horrific ideas as to what I had touched, I made other signs.

Here is my boot today:

There was another sign that said "This is also not birdhouse, No Bats AND No Robins!" but I guess the elements took it.  Or an ironic bird used it to feather its nest.

So that is my tragic tale.

Now I must go, I have to research buying one of those tiny cameras doctors thread into bodies to help diagnose and treat diseases.  So that I can thread it into my shoes to look for wildlife, obviously.

Things Ryan Has Never Said To Me: Kiss Me, I'm Irish.

Today Blogstalkers, in honor of St. Patrick's Day, I am bringing you a giveaway.

There are a couple of reasons I have a soft spot in my heart for St. Patrick and his day.  For one, though my husband is Jewish (his mom was Jewish) he is also very Irish.  His name is Ryan Patrick O'Shaughnessy Gallagher for crying out loud.  Except without the O'Shaughnessy part.

Also, it is legend that St. Patrick banished all of the snakes from Ireland and while many scholars believe that "snakes" are a metaphor for something else entirely, I like to believe it actually just means snakes and then I like to picture St. Patrick in a flowing robe and strappy sandals, standing on a green Eire hill, pointing his finger toward the ocean waters and being all, "Erin Go Bragh for everyone but you, SNAKES."

I really love places where there are no snakes.

So moving on, I now present a very green giveaway.

1. A membership to A Beer Of The Month Club. (If you are under 21 then I shall find an alternative.)

2. A box of green food coloring, for dying your beer and anything else you like, green.  Sidenote: I do not suggest dying your bathwater green and then taking a long bath.  It WILL dye you green. (What? I was like ten.) (Also, I might not actually include this.)

3. A self-customized pair of the new Nike Free 5.0 shoes.  You can make them look any way you want!  For example, if you are really feeling the green:
Or if you are like, well I like SOME green but that is too much green.

4. Any pair of green earrings from Kendra Scott Jewelry.  For example:

 The really good news about Kendra Scott earrings is that they are proven to attract Channing Tatums.  So, yeah.

5. And lastly, personalized M&Ms.  You can add clip art and text and pictures to them!  I have created a test batch below.

Please excuse Ryan's grouchy face.  It is not easy being green.

So that's all.  If you'd like to enter, just leave a comment below.  I'll pick a winner on Monday!

And yes, for all of you wondering, once I finally convince Ryan to let me get pregnant, I am totally getting a tee shirt that says "I've Got A Little Irish In Me."

May the odds be EVER in your favor Blogstalkers.

(If you are commenting after comment #200 I promise your comment is still publishing you just have to click on the "show more" or something like that button at the bottom of the comments.)

From Now On I Only Go To The Grocery Store Incognito

Hi there Blogstalkers, I am almost fully recovered and feeling much better after the Great Ovary Explosion of 2013.  Thanks for all of your well-wishes!

On Friday I was still in quite a bit of pain and moving around too much hurt.  My doctor had given me pain killers but since drugs like that tend to affect me in crazy ways, I was trying to abstain from taking them.  Finally though I gave in and took one half of one pill.  And just like that I was SuperGirl and I kept trying to explain to Ryan how what I was experiencing was not pleasure but rather the complete absence of any pain.

I was like, "This is the best feeling ever.  My hip doesn't hurt from where I hit it on the bench in the shower and the papercuts all over my hands might as well not exist and while my pinky toe still may or may not be broken, right now I can't even tell if it's still attached to my foot."

And Ryan was like, from now on you are only allowed to wear clothing made of bubble wrap.

Which is definitely not going to happen.  Because Ryan and I had a 90's music lyric-off on Friday when I was sitting on the couch recovering and I totally won and I have ordered a tee shirt proclaiming me the winner.  And THAT is a shirt that needs to be worn places.

Anyway though, after my pain killer kicked in I was feeling FANTASTIC and remembered that we still needed some things for dinner and that the dogs needed food so I decided to go to the store.  I obviously could not drive to the store because of the dope so I announced I would walk.  To which Ryan pointed out that the dog food weighs 50 lbs. and I most assuredly could not carry that home.

I attempted to convince him otherwise by trying to pick up the couch but it seems late at night when I am sleeping Ryan sneaks upstairs and glues the furniture to the ground because it would not budge.

So Ryan offered to go to the store in my stead but I was all, "You don't know where anything is and it takes you forever and you always get the wrong cheese and you're always embarrassing me by trying to make the chickens do the Chicken Dance."

So the plan was for Ryan to just drive me to the store and then stay in the car.

I hurried inside and grabbed a cart.  I sped about the store grabbing the necessary items, leaving the dog food for last since it is heavy and near to the cashiers.  When I finally got to the pet aisle I see Ryan bending over to grab a bag of food and I feel a rush of love for this boy who has left his warm car and ventured through the cold parking lot just so I don't have to pick up the heavy bag of dog food.

So I do what any normal, sort of on drugs, wife who loves her husband and sees him bending over in the pet supply aisle of the grocery store would do.

I do a quick check to make sure no one else is in the aisle and then I back my ass up even with his and am all "Bow Chicka Bow Wow!"

And then Ryan pops up and turns around and first I notice that he has a confused expression on his face.  Second I notice that it is not in fact Ryan.

So I semi-scream and am all SORRY SORRY SORRY I thought you were my husband and well, I do things like that.  I took a Vicodin today.  Not for fun, though it's not been a terrible couple of hours I suppose.  Anyway, let's both forget this ever happened.  Especially you.

And then I grabbed my food and awkwardly dragged it to the waiting cashier, willing myself to get out of the store as quickly as I could without ever seeing the Ryan-butt-doppelganger again.

And I almost made it.  But alas I saw the dude as I was nearing the door.  At the self-checkout, with a friend and they were both laughing and then the one pointed to me and they both were like "Bow Chicka Bow Wow" and then one of them howled, which still leaves me confused because was that his own addition to the scene or had I actually howled the first time around and immediately blocked it out?  Please god let it be the first one.

I stopped to shout something like, "Ahhhh NO!  I said you were to forget this ever happened, not ensure the tales survives the ages through richly crafted folk lore!" before I darted out of the store and into the warm waiting car where I announced to Ryan, "Well we need to get a new grocery store.  And also could you please look into changing the shape of your butt because the way it is now is only going to bring back bad memories for me."

And Ryan just sighed and pulled out of the parking lot and took his ridiculous wife home, only making one slightly veiled threat to take me to A home along the way.

Anyone else have a good shopping story?  Or did anything fantastic come your way this weekend?

And Then I Told The Biggest Lie I've Ever Told - I'm Not Weird!!

Hello my lovely beautiful Blogstalkers!

First a little catch-up on  what's been going on with  me.  If you don't follow me on Facebook, what has happened is this:

Monday afternoon my right side erupted with an explosion of vicious, could-not-sit-up-straight pain.  So I took myself off to the Emergency Room to figure out what the heck was going on.  The ER was packed that night but I was eventually diagnosed with a kidney infection, given something to handle the pain and sent home.  Monday night was awful.  Tuesday, not being completely sold on the diagnosis and still in pain, though less pain, I went and saw my most wonderful doctor.

Turns out, not kidney infection at all (stupid ER), but rather ANOTHER burst ovarian cyst.  These things are intensely painful and I'm finally at the point today where I can have some more procedures done without kicking wildly at anyone who even mentions my lady parts.

So I am back at the hospital for an ultrasound.  I'll be home again tonight.

According to most people, ultrasounds are like, totally no big deal, but well...you know me.

Wish me luck that this one goes off without a hitch. UNLIKE LAST TIME

Although I will say it's more likely that something inane will happen.  I couldn't even manage the ER without getting all sorts of embarrassed.

Basically I had to give a urine sample while still in triage so I traipsed across the busy waiting room to the bathroom and then back with my (sealed) cup.  Of course I tripped, because there was a man lying on the ground for some reason and flung my cup (still tightly sealed) across the room where it proceeded to roll under someone's chair.  And I couldn't bend down and get it because of pain so I had to go to the nurse and say,

"Um yes, I can not bend down and I need someone to retrieve my urine."

And then the nurse, understandingly confused, was like, "Do you mean you need help in the washroom dear?"

And I was all, "OH No! Haha! Nothing like that!  I just threw my specimen cup under a chair in the waiting room and I can't bend down to pick it up."

Then she looked at oddly and so I was like, "Not on purpose! I'm not weird!"

She probably could have made a good argument against that.  Especially after I couldn't remember which chair it was under and she had to crawl around on the floor peeking under chairs for pee.

She was very nice.

Anywho, I'll be back tomorrow!

You Take The Good, You Take The Bad, You Take Them Both and There You Have - The Game Of Life

Hey Blogstalkers!

My poor sweet Ryan was so sick this weekend so I pretty much only left the house to collect sandwiches for lunch and medical supplies.  He did scamper off to work this morning seeing as he felt a little bit better and also, as I theorized out loud for him, we couldn't be sure that his ill-feelings today were not just a case of the Mondays.

So anyway, this weekend we had a lot of time to just hang out alone together.  We read quite a bit, watched a couple of movies and I accidentally caught up with the Kardashians when I was watching something else on E and then that came on and the remote control was all the way across the room.

I tried to be like, Go Go Gadget Arm! and shoot my arm over there to collect it but to no avail...so ALAS.

On Sunday Ryan was going a little stir-crazy so we turned to old-school board games to keep us occupied for the day.

First we played The Game of Life followed by Monopoly.

Ryan: Hah! Baltic Avenue, that's mine.  With a hotel that's $250 please.

Lauren: No way! I would never stay there.  That's like the ghetto of the Monopoly board.

Ryan: Well for a small upcharge I can offer you alternate accommodations on Boardwalk.

Lauren: I'm not a millionaire RYAN.  Plus I honestly would never stay in any hotel you ran anyway.  *adopts Ryan voice* Here is your room ma'am.  The air is permanently set to numbing, the minibar is filled with whole chickens and if you need a damp towel, there are a number of them laying on the bathroom floor.

Ryan: Whatever that sounds great.  And any hotel you ran would be a disaster.

Lauren: Then how come you continue to stay at Tennessee Avenue?  Every seventh roll of the dice, like clockwork.

Ryan: This conversation is ridiculous.  You can't always just change the rules of a game to fit your liking.

Lauren:  I don't always do that.

Ryan: When we played Life you tried to make my little peg ride in the same car as your little peg and when I refused you pretended to drop it and played the game like an almost normal person, getting married and filling your car with an obscene amount of children.  Then at the end of the game, which I won by the way, you collapsed in laughter and told me you switched your 'fake husband' blue peg with my blue peg when I was in the bathroom and that I had been married to you the whole time and didn't even know it.

Lauren: You didn't win, we lost together.  The other car won.

Ryan: Oh whatever, just pay the $250 for Baltic.

Lauren: FINE.  I got doubles.  *rolls again* Chance.  *picks up card and scoffs*

Ryan: Serves you right! What does it say!

Lauren: You got knifed at a cheap motel last night, pay $500 in doctors' bills.

Ryan: Oh hilarious Lauren.

Anyone have any funny "House Rules" for a game you play?

For example, Ryan has to kiss me during Monopoly any time our pieces land on the same property or if one of us is in jail the other is "just visiting".  He also has to kiss me if we're playing miniature golf and our balls touch.

And Now If You'll Excuse Me, I Think I May Have Exfoliated Too Much Skin Off My Foot In The Shower And I Must Call My Doctor

TGIF Blogstalkers, am I right?

It's been a long week around here.  I accidentally shrunk my favorite sweater, befouled my newly immaculate kitchen by trying to take a scalding hot bowl of spaghetti out of the microwave without oven mitts and then quickly realizing how hot it was and screaming and throwing the bowl into the air and I have a husband who can not stop coughing on the back of my neck in the middle of the night.  (Poor poor Ryan, he's so sick right now.)

On the flip side, my dogs had an excellent week!  They got a new sweater and had fun cleaning spaghetti off of the kitchen floor.

The cap to it all though was when I was doing the nightly search of my scalp for grey hairs and found something alarming.

Lauren: Ahhhh! What is this?

Ryan: *from the bed* What ever is the problem now dear?

Lauren: There is a bright red hair growing out of the front of my head.  Like neon red if that were a thing.  A color that totally doesn't exist in nature.

Ryan: Are you sure it's not just a piece of spaghetti from earlier?

Lauren: Yes RYAN, I am pretty sure I can tell the difference between my hair and spaghetti but thank you for being helpful as always.  Look!

Ryan: Haha that is weird.  That's the reddest thing I've ever seen.

Lauren: It seems my scalp has just decided to sprout hairs in all of the colors of the rainbow.  People are going to start asking me if I'm wearing a clown wig before long and I'll have to just be like, no this is my normal hair.

Ryan:  It's like your love of wigs and costumes is backfiring.  It's karma.

Lauren: Or maybe a freakish hormone imbalance, I'm calling Tatiana in the morning.

Ryan: Who?

Lauren: My doctor Ryan, obviously.

Ryan: You are a freak.  You call your doctor if you poke yourself in the eye.  *adopts girlish voice* I'm worried I may disrupted the rods and cones.

Lauren: What was that?  Was that supposed to be me?  I can't help it if I'm a hypochondriac and have a very low pain tolerance.

Ryan: Yeah who knows how you plan to get through childbirth.

Lauren: With drugs Ryan.  All the drugs!  I even made Tatiana make an advance note on my chart that I want all the existing safe birthing drugs during labor.  I instructed her to specifically note that if any new drugs were invented between now and then to make sure I get those as well.

Ryan: And she did that?

Lauren: She at least pretended to.

Ryan: I'm going to sleep.

Lauren: And I'm going to self-diagnose this red hair using the internet.  Oooh this link says I can determine what's wrong using palm reading.

Ryan: Great.

Lauren: No it is great actually.  My health line is quite vivid, I must be fine.  Completely in balance hormonally.

Ryan: I can assure you that is not the case.

Lauren: What the heck!? I don't have a marriage line!  Give me your hand.  Oh good you do have one, we're married.

Ryan: Believe me I have more than one line from this marriage.

Lauren: Yeah I've been noticing that you're starting to get a bit wrinkly.

Ryan: Goodnight Lauren.

Lauren: Goodnight monkey.

So that was our perfectly normal weekday bedtime conversation.  Hope you all have a lovely weekend!

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