John called to tell me he was  just leaving the office and to apologize for how late it is.  I’m feeling weak-willed because I have no energy and my head is pounding (and not just the part that’s still tender from my encounter with the window yesterday), so I asked him to be the voice of reason and say “No, we can’t order Chinese food.  We’re having ravioli or stir fry or something that’s already in the house and is relatively good for us.”  But since it’s so late, and neither of us wants to deal with cooking and cleaning up, he failed in his duty (as the voice of reason) and told me that if Chinese food is the only thing that will make me feel better, then that’s what we should have for dinner.  And I gave in.  Because I’m weak.  Our local Chinese place should hang our picture on the wall.  (This hasn’t been a good week for healthy dinners.)

Okay, maybe this is going to be a little bit of a vacation post.  I was reading The Bloggess just now, and of course I’m laughing hysterically at today’s post (that should totally go without saying), and I had a similar experience over the weekend, and then I started writing the story in my head, so here it is.

Background: My family (Mom, Dad, brother, sister, me, assorted spouses, and one almost 5-year-old) decided to stay in a cabin in the mountains in northwest Georgia for a few days.  In the mountains.  In the woods.  Not in a clearing in the woods.  In the woods.  With me?  Okay.  ‘Cause this will become important.  John and I were supposed to arrive just before midnight Friday night (fly into Atlanta, rent a car, drive an hour and a half), but our flight was delayed (a lot) and then, only about 7 miles from the place, the road was blocked by a police cruiser because the power company was removing a tree from the power lines.  After about 20 minutes of sitting there (no map, no Internet connection to find a map), I finally asked the cop if there was another way to get where we were going.  There was, of course, and we finally got to the house.  In the woods.  At about 2:30 in the morning.  Oh, after we pulled into the wrong driveway.  ‘Cause it was a gravel road that was more of a track up the mountain.  In the very deepest dark.  Because it was in the woods!  And the power was out.  Dad met us at the right driveway with a flashlight and helped us get inside (where there were no lights, because the power was out) and find our bedroom.  With a flashlight.  Because there was no power.  Being up the mountain meant we were using well water, which gets into the house via pump.  Which totally doesn’t work when there’s no power.  So, you know, no flushing.  And bottled water for brushing teeth and washing faces and hands.  NO POWER!  But we were ready to collapse into bed (a bed we never collapsed into again after that night – I promise I’m getting to the point) when the power came back on, and so did every light in the house.  Anyway, most of that background was not really necessary, but let’s just say it illustrates how tired and ready for bed we were the next night, having only gotten about 5 hours of sleep the night before.

I was washing my face in the bathroom when I heard a very loud, somewhat shocked “JESUS CHRIST!” from the bedroom.  I came running and found John standing about three feet away from the foot of the bed, kinda pointing towards the pillow.  “There’s a scorpion.  IN the bed.”  “Can’t be.  Scorpions don’t live in Georgia, they live in Texas and New Mexico and deserts and stuff.”  “Zannah, it was a scorpion.  Go look.”  “Um, no.”  He twitched the covers a little and I saw something scurry under his pillow.  I got a little closer and saw it come out from under the pillow and go upside down under the mattress.  Kinda looked like a scorpion to me, but I wasn’t about to get close enough to really look.  Besides, it couldn’t be.  Either way, though, I didn’t want it in the bed.  John was pretty freaked out, and I wasn’t brave enough to get it, so I ran upstairs and grabbed Corey before he disappeared into his room.  Normally, I’m the one who finds the big ugly bug, and I’m the one who completely freaks out.  John walks into the situation knowing what to expect (I’ve already shrieked about the bug), so he’s usually able to handle it fairly calmly.  This time,  he was the one who found it after nearly LAYING DOWN ON TOP OF IT, so I think he was well within his rights to be a little less than rational.  Anyway, big brother came down, we both grabbed shoes, and I helped him lift up the mattress so he could WHACK the damn thing dead.  And then he put it in a plastic bag to show every person who came to the house over the next few days.  ‘Cause he’s a boy.  Thanks, Cor, for killing the scorpion!  After Corey left (with the scorpion, which he left on the table for everyone to find at breakfast), John and I discussed whether or not we’d be able to sleep in that bed.  I was actually fairly okay with it, I think because I’m not the one who found it, whereas all those other times I have been the one surprised by the spider or the centipede, I can’t sleep because of all the creepy-crawly nightmares.  According to John, that kind of inconsistency is one of my most endearing (or is that infuriating?) qualities.  Anyway, we did a thorough search of the room and the bed, checked all of the blankets, all of the sheets, took the pillows out of the pillowcases so we could shake them out, lifted up the mattress again, looked under the bed with the flashlight, then checked the drooping fabric underneath the box spring just in case they were nesting (isn’t that something you’ve heard of?  A nest of scorpions?  Maybe that’s vipers…), and when we didn’t find anything, we decided it was time to go to bed.  Gingerly.  And without much sleep.  Every night after that, we did the same bed check.

After the scorpion IN THE BED, the spiderwebs that apparently only took 10 minutes to string up across every doorway and sidewalk, and the millipede on the wall over our bed the last night (I called Dad to rescue us from that one), John and I have decided that although we like the idea of having a house in the woods, the woods will totally have to keep their distance.  Nature (the buggy part, at least) is not for me.

(I counted six, which I totally (seven) put in on purpose.  For reals.  Think I can go higher next time?)

But hey, the withdrawal doesn’t have to start just yet.  My vacation doesn’t start until the weekend.  According to my brain, however, it started around lunchtime today.  Ooh, that reminds me of breakfast today.  A guy on my project won breakfast for the office from Chick-fil-A!  That place might have the best fast food breakfast in the world.  They certainly have the best fast food chicken sandwiches in the world.  And since that’s basically what goes on their breakfast menu, I think they’ve got the breakfast trophy all sewn up.  Which reminds me…I used the phrase “hungry as all get out” the other day, and that made me wonder where “as all get out” came from.  I was driving just then, so I couldn’t google it, and I’ve only just remembered.

[Pause for googling]

Okay, according to one forum, the OED says it was first used in Huckleberry Finn in 1884.  I couldn’t find any other references to the origin of that phrase, and I don’t have access to an OED myself (and I don’t subscribe to OED Online, although maybe I should – mm, no, $30 a month), so I can’t check.  That’s not very helpful.  Maybe I’ll be just fine after a few days without Google.  (Look!  I can tie things together!  (Oh, is it not cool to point that kind of thing out?  Better to be subtle and let others notice on their own?  Oops.  Guess I’m not cool.))

Today was the first day of my new job.  Same company, new boss, loads of new (and higher) responsibilities, and I think I’m in a little over my head.  It’s a good thing (right?), and I certainly won’t be bored.  The best part is the complete and utter lack of anything resembling travel.  Or even a commute.  I’ll have the occasional meeting in DC, and there may be a time in the fall when I have to spend a few days in a row down there, but the majority of my time will be spent in the office that’s only 20 minutes (max) from my house.  SO much better.

Enough about work.  I performed my adjunct-to-the-band duties tonight and put their set list together for them.  They’ve got a 4th of July gig nearby, and tonight was their last rehearsal before the big day.

Ricky Gervais is doing stand-up in the other room and I can’t concentrate anymore, so I’m off.

Anyway, Duluth is not winning me over.  I’m sure it’s fine, and maybe I’ll like it better when the sun is shining and I’ve had a good night’s sleep, but I’m not seeing its charm at the moment.

Once we got back to Newport (work was in Narragansett – and I’m done for the week! Yay!), we went for a walk, planning on going to the Redwood Library to look around.  Got distracted by the giant stone tower thing in Touro Park, and John said he remembered a plaque or sign or something saying it was built by vikings or something, but we couldn’t find the sign.  On our way back up to the library, we passed the Newport Tower Museum.  We were looking at the pictures and posters in the window, and I noticed a guy on the inside coming towards that window.  Before I knew it, he’d bounced outside to come talk to us.  It’s his museum, and he’s done research and written books on that tower, all while trying to figure out who really built it.  Apparently, there are a bunch of theories, but most don’t hold water (according to him).  Anyway, he took us back over to it and pointed out all kinds of interesting things about it.  Long story short: he got us interested in it and we’re going to visit his museum tomorrow and let him tell us all the stuff he found out.  And probably end up buying his book (or books).  It really was cool, and the guy was SO enthusiastic.

After that, though, we decided to put off the Redwood Library until tomorrow, and we headed down to Thames Street to the Brick Alley Pub for dinner.  Very good, just like we remembered, and then we walked.  And walked.  And walked.  Just because.  It felt like forever, and we both wanted to turn around and head back to our inn, but for some reason we kept going.  And when we finally turned around, it felt like we’d never get back.  Of course, we did, eventually, and I just mapped it.  It was only 2.5 miles.  So we’re wimps.  It’s not even that late, but we’re both really tired.  John says that’s because it’s been 40 hours since we got up this morning.  He’s probably right.

Go check out Curiosity.  She’s hilarious on the subject of her hearing loss (which I’m very sorry to hear about, but am delighted to read a post about).  (Does that make me insensitive?)

It should go without saying, since I link to practically all of her posts, but The Bloggess is one of the funniest people on the Internet.  Truly and consistently funny.  She made me laugh at almost every sentence of her post today, so, you know, go read.  And laugh.  I’m going to put my walked-out feet up and go to bed.

Anyway, it’s lunch time and I’m hungry.  I need fuel to get me through an afternoon full of unhappy users.  (The types of users in this next session are notorious for hating this system.)

It’s entirely too quiet here, so I’m going to turn on the radio, read my book, and try to settle down and sleep.  The class I’m teaching tomorrow has a focus I haven’t really taught yet, so I’m not as comfortable with it.  Meaning I’m not as relaxed as I’d like to be.  A bath may be in my future.  Once I find a radio station I like.

The traveling part of this trip was totally uneventful (aside from some turbulence during the flight), no talkative seatmates, and it was surprisingly easy to find my hotel, so I’ve got nothing good to share tonight.  But I’m wireless!  Yay!  Here’s to posting from bed!  Maybe tomorrow. 

I am looking forward to tomorrow.  Very much.  I asked for the day off a couple of weeks ago, just because (and also because I thought I’d need the escape since I was convinced I would be less than a month from unemployment by this week), and earlier this week I thought about not taking the day off and just going to work anyway, but then my boss reminded me that this was meant to be an easy week for us trainers (to give us a break from all the stressful traveling) and I don’t have anything to do, so why not take it?  I saw her point.  So now I have plans for tomorrow.  Plans to run, to get a mani/pedi, to get my very first ever massage, and to buy a new suitcase.  Almost in that order.  I need a new suitcase…do I?  Well, yeah, I do.  The one I’ve been using (big, rectangular, purple, on wheels) is coming apart at the seams.  I have another rolling bag, but it’s more of a rolling duffel and I have to travel with some stuff for work that wouldn’t fit very well in that.  I could borrow John’s (and I will if I don’t find something pretty easily tomorrow), but eventually, I’ll need one of my own.  I’m putting too much thought into this.

Hamburgers tonight!

I don’t ever want to go here.  I had nightmares after Jurassic Park and I was half-convinced raptors were going to leap through my bedroom window and kill me, so a forest full of dinosaurs and GIANT SNAKES is not the place for me.

Curiosity blames her absence on Nicholas Cage.  Lots of things can be blamed on him.  I’m just glad she’s back.

One last thing: the last paragraph of this review of the new Robin Hood movie made me laugh.  Twice.

Now I’m going to bed.  Sorry for the choppy post.  (I tried to call it a chippy post.  Not sure what that means, exactly, but my spellcheck thinks it’s a word.)