Another day

Okay, for those of y’all that must know, the hotel is the historic Union Station Wyndham. Sadly, I have to bid my lovely room and the abundance of feather pillows adieu later this morning. It was nice while it lasted.

In other news, I still can’t breathe through my nose without extensive medication. I’m thinking it may be time to go visit the doctor once I get back home or explore the use of a neti pot, which I can’t really think about because yuck.

Also, I think that some famous country music star might be in the room next door to mine. Not that I’ve actually seen anyone I recognize, but I can hear someone playing the guitar in the next room, and I’m in Nashville, and I feel that it’s a logical conclusion to assume it’s a celebrity.

Perhaps I’ll go loiter in the hallway and see if I can confirm my suspicions.

I’ll be back tomorrow with Fashion Friday and OH IS IT GOING TO BE GOOD.

I don’t really know that, but here’s hoping.

Oh, and if you want to read about the DVD taping, you can go on over to Allaccess.

Who knew there would be so much interest in my compelling couch story? My couch and I are overjoyed.

Stay tuned for next week when I will discuss my dining room chairs.

Here is a picture of the newly cleaned couch.

If you don’t like it, please don’t mention it because I am stuck with it for at least the next thirteen years. At which time I can load it on to a UHaul and send it off to college with Caroline. It will be perfect for all the Bible studies I’m sure she’ll host in her apartment.

It really is a great couch. Very comfortable and, apparently, truly wash and wear. Everything comes off and can go in the washing machine. I had to pull up the cushions because I couldn’t remember who made it. Clearly, I am all about brand loyalty.

Anyway, it’s by a company called Lee Industries. I highly recommend their furniture and they should feel free to send me an upholstered chair and ottoman in exchange for the shout out.

Y’all have a great day! I’ll be back tomorrow with Fashion Friday. We’ll be discussing shoes and some other stuff.

I am seriously not kidding when I say that I have absolutely nothing to write about.

If you think I’m kidding, then let me confess that I just wrote an entire post about the fact that I washed the slipcovers on my couch this week.

In fact, the following is the post I just wrote and then, as I proofread it, caused me to fall into a deep sleep. I feel the need to include it as proof that I’m not exaggerating about how little I have to say.

Six years ago, I ordered a couch.

I had just been through the worst summer of my life, which involved a terrible miscarriage that had chewed me up and left me with a footlocker full of emotional issues and somehow I decided that a new couch would make things better.

Interestingly enough, the couch didn’t really help matters.

However, in the midst of all my hormonal weeping over fabric choices, I did have the presence of mind to order a couch with removable slipcovers because it seemed like a brilliant, practical choice in light of all the babies I was sure we were going to eventually have that would spit up all over it.

Yes the couch was expensive, but practicality doesn’t always come cheap. And I sold P on it by declaring that we’d have this couch until our kids took it off to college with them because we’d be able to wash all the slipcovers on a regular basis and keep it looking flawless.

So, on Monday, I washed the slipcovers for the first time.

In six years.

The problem was that somewhere along the way I became frightened of washing the slipcovers. What if they shrank? What if they dissolved? What if they were ruined forever?

But after a six year accumulation of baby spit up, Nilla Wafer crumbs and sticky, dirty Cheeto fingers, I decided it was time to face my fears.

I washed. I dried. I have a spotless couch with incredibly clean cushions.

Honestly, I will count it as one of the great highlights of my life. Or at least my week.

By the way, I was going to title that post “The Couch”.

Sometimes my life makes me sad.

***Edited to add that I’m not really sad. I mean, yes, I’m sad that my wordsmithing abilities have taken leave and all I could think to write about was my couch, but not sad in the traditional sense. I just didn’t want y’all feeling bad for me because it’s not like the heel broke off my favorite pair of shoes or anything tragic like that.

Well, we are in the midst of some serious hurricane preparedness here. Never mind that the weather people don’t really have a clue where Ike is actually going and they are still showing the entire Texas coast as their CONE OF UNCERTAINTY.

Which, by the way, is totally a term I’m going to start using on a daily basis.

“Are you cooking dinner tonight?”

“Well, the CONE OF UNCERTAINTY is still pretty big. I’ll get back to you around 6:00.”

Anyway, I wasn’t really concerned about Hurricane Ike because my relationship with weather people, especially local weather people, is tenuous at best.

I have been burned too many times by BIG CHILL ’07 or FROSTY FREEZE ’05, which turned out to be little more than some very cold drizzle and meteorology hype.

But I began to pay attention when P mentioned that I might want to go to HEB and stock up some bottled water and canned goods.

Although for the record, it would have to be a pretty dire situation before I’d pop open a can of Chef Boyardee Ravioli.

Anyway, P is not a weather alarmist, which is why he never could have been a meteorologist. He is always the one to tell me that it’s not really going to rain, or snow, or what have you.

Needless to say, when he mentioned canned goods, I took notice and began making a list, although he did caution me to not go overboard. I thought that was kind of a cheap shot considering that those bottles of water I purchased during the height of the Y2K scare served us well through the better part of 2006.

So I headed to HEB and loaded my cart with various hurricane readiness items.

Oops. Almost forgot breakfast. It is the most important meal of the day, even in the middle of a natural disaster.

And lest you think I am not taking this seriously, then let me show you this.

Do not play around with Survival Mix. That bad boy will last us the better part of an hour if times get tough.

I almost bought a big box of Velveeta for queso, but felt it might be wasteful to use one of our Hurricane Preparedness Candles of Natural Illumination to melt a pound of processed cheese with some Ro-tel.

So we’ll just have to stick to guacamole with our chips and salsa.

And canned Spaghetti-o’s.

Now we just have to sit and wait for what may end up being a slight drizzle and a small gust of wind.

Oh, and the inevitable headlines which will scream “We Don’t Like Ike” and other terribly original captions.

Earlier, I thought the crown jewel of my day was when P came home with a rented generator and a window unit air-conditioner that he purchased from Home Depot. Because while I am willing to live on peanut butter crackers for days, P knows that I am going to need me some A/C.

Who says romance is dead?

But then while I was cooking dinner, P told me to go look at what was outside our neighbor’s house.

Looks like Cousin Eddie had to evacuate.

Yesterday I stayed in my pajamas until 1:45 p.m.

You might think I’d be embarrassed to admit that I had such a completely unproductive Monday, but you would be wrong.

Honestly, the only reason I changed out of my pajamas was because I didn’t want my friend who was bringing Caroline home from school to see that I was wearing the same thing I had on at 8:00 a.m. when she picked her up.

I’m all about the illusion of productivity.

And once I was dressed, I decided I might as well bathe the dogs while I was waiting on Caroline to get home because they had gotten to the point where they smelled like something that would cause a skunk to have olfactory envy.

Which reminds me of a story that P told me the other night about a friend’s dog who came home smelling beyond foul and they finally discovered he had rolled in a dead horse.

True story.

And I bet some of you are wishing I hadn’t told you about it, but it’s been in my head for weeks and I just had to get it out.

So you might be wondering what I did all day whilst in my pajamas.

And even if you’re not, you’re going to find out because here’s the thing, when you spend the majority of the day at home in your pajamas there isn’t much to blog about.

I got up with Caroline and made scrambled eggs, which she actually ate as opposed to just pushing them around on her plate. It was probably due to the fact that I bribed her with the promise of a Starburst if she ate them.

But it worked and I totally plan on using the same Jedi-mind trick tomorrow.

After she left, I had grand plans to take the dogs for a long walk but then discovered that my iPod was dead and clearly I can’t be expected to walk without any musical accompaniment. What am I going to do? Listen to nature?

So instead I answered some email, ate some Smart Start, and made a grocery list with every intention of going to HEB. But then P mentioned he’d grill hamburgers for dinner and we had everything we needed, so why would I go to the store for things we won’t need until tomorrow?

Procrastination is an entirely unappreciated art form.

Anyway, by 10:30 a.m. I was at a loss so I carefully weighed all my options and went with Option C, which was to catch up on all my recorded episodes of “Tori & Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood”.

I’ve already admitted I spent the day in my pajamas, I might as well throw out that I have a fondness for Tori Spelling.

Don’t act like none of you cried as the students of West Bev High chanted “Donna Martin graduates! Donna Martin graduates!”

By the way, Option A was to go to Target and Option B was to take a nap.

The next thing I knew I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. And thank goodness it did or I wouldn’t have been awake to change out of my pajamas before Caroline got home.

Which would have been more embarrassing than admitting that I watch “Tori & Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood”.

Or maybe not.

But today is a new day and I have big plans.

I may even get dressed before noon.