Rude Awakenings

My allergic malaria continues to run its course, and this week I am in the annoyingly sporadic coughing fit phase. You know what I'm talking about: that phase where you think the cough is gone, so you start cutting back on the cough syrup, only to discover that the cough was merely playing opossum, lying in wait. And then, in the middle of the night (say 2:00 a.m.) you are jolted from your peaceful slumber by a seal-like barking cough coming from your very own mouth.
Just when you thought you were on the mend...
you wake up to discover your sinus infection has transformed you into a wild sea mammal.

You are so startled, in fact, that your arms go flailing about as you bolt upright gasping between coughs. And you accidentally knock over the large tumbler of water that your Winged Monkey was nice enough to put on the bedside table for you. And said tumbler happens to land on its side. On top of your alarm clock. Whose speaker quickly fills with ice water. Which shorts out the clock. Which causes enough commotion to wake up the aforementioned Winged Monkey.

You know that phase?

Needless to say, I will apparently be taking my cough medicine again tonight...and investing in bedside sippy cups.

And the best part of the story? The morning after:

Winged Monkey: So, what exactly happened last night?

Daisy: I was coughing and I knocked over the water glass and it spilled onto the alarm clock. The whole clock is dead.

Winged Monkey: Oh, sorry about that. And I'm sorry for the names I called you when you woke me up.

Daisy: You didn't call me any names.

Winged Monkey: Oh, good, so those stayed in my head then.

So sympathetic. Really.


Posted at 7:32 PM
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Surprise! (Not so much.)

This weekend I attended a surprise wedding. Meaning of course that all of the guests were simply invited to a bar-b-q and shootenanny--like a hootenanny, but with guns, because a) we live in Texas and b) the groom's family has built a gun range on their ranch property because we c) live in Texas. And after everyone had fired a sufficient number of ridiculously large weapons, and all had had their fill of burgers and brauts, our hosts decided to tie the knot before dessert.

It was a beautiful evening, and they are a wonderful couple, so I hate to be the one to spoil their fun, but none of us were really surprised. This might have something to do with the fact that the invitation made mysterious reference to a "special surprise" at 7:00 no fewer than 3 times, and there are only so many possibilities for a couple in their thirties who just recently had a baby together.

Tip: If you really want to surprise people... don't give them any hints.

This got me thinking about surprise weddings in general, and how they would be much more fun if members of the actual wedding party were surprised. Like the bride or the groom. Or both. Now that might be worth seeing: "Hey guys, glad you could make it tonight. By the way...SURPRISE! You're getting married tonight!" Not a shotgun wedding as much as a jello-shot wedding.

And what about a new take on wedding crashers? What if instead of crashing other people's weddings, a couple decided to get married at someone else's party? A birthday party would probably be ideal for something like that because there would already be cake. And presents.

These are the places my brain goes when cough syrup comes into play...

Fortunately, I just downloaded a cheesy historical romance to my new Kindle (b-day gift from the WM...It holds 3500 books!), so I should have plenty of distraction for my malarial sinusitis-impaired brain. Although, there's bound to be a wedding at some point in any cheesy historical romance worth its salt, so I may be back to this same line of thought in a few hours.


Posted at 7:23 PM
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This is what my life has become...

(Skipping the myriad of excuses for why I haven't blogged in almost 3 months...)

Tonight I find myself sitting on my couch, in my sweats, trying desperately to breathe through my nose, coughing my head off, watching the new Charlie's Angels for the first time. Make that the last time.

Seriously? Do they have to ruin everything? Leave the Angels alone, for cryin' out loud. Do we have no creative people in Hollywood anymore? What, you couldn't think of a fresh take on vampires? No more 90210/Gossip Girl/One Tree Hill/ Dawson's Creek type ideas? How about another CSI/Law & Order spin-off?

Help a sick girl out, people. Come up with some good tv to distract me from the misery of what my doc says is yet another upper respiratory infection, but what I am almost certain is some form of urban malaria. All of these overly-tanned, overly-sculpted, overly-quaffed people superimposed on overly-synthesized music only makes me want to drug myself into a cough syrup coma. (And I seriously think I may have already taken too much because I looked up at the screen and one of the Angels had a dreadlock wig on as a disguise. Freaked. Me. Out.)

Thank God for cable channels. At least there I can escape to Jamaica with Anthony Bourdain or chase gators with the Swamp People. Forget the Angels in a speed boat; I'll take Troy on the Bayou any day of the week. Maybe the "tree shakers" and "tree breakers" will manage to clear my sinuses.




God I love the History Channel!


Posted at 7:23 PM
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