Just watching you while you sleep…

I need more public transportation in my life.

Most of my experiences with buses or trains or subways or monorails or boats or whatever, have all been while I’m out of town on vacation.

In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen asleep on all of the aforementioned modes of transportation, especially that one time when Ash and I went to London and had such bad jet lag we slept for 13 hours.

Speaking of, I took a picture of Ashley asleep on the subway while we were there. Because it’s funny to take pictures of people while they sleep. Because usually they look crazy/weird. And by they, I mean me.

And the people at poopt.tumblr.com.. Because apparently, someone got the idea to start a blog where it’s all just submitted photos of people asleep on public transportation. (Be real, you thought for a second because of the url it was gonna be about poop, didn’t you. Sorry to disappoint.)

I wish I’d thought of that.

And also may have found a new goal – get my picture on that website. But it has to be taken by someone I don’t know. Which means my friends can’t submit a picture of me sleeping on a bus and send it in. Also, I guess that means I need to start taking the bus.

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‘I dunno, something about baby prostitutes’ or that day we were zombies

Once upon a time, I thought I could sleep during a plane ride. I had really nothing to go on, because it’s not like I’ve ever slept on one before, not to mention I’ve never been on one long enough to really get any decent sleep.

But, none of this stopped me – or Ashley – from attempting to NOT sleep the night before we left. We’d power nap here and there but for the most part, we’d stay up all night. Why not? It’d make us sleep that much better on the ridiculously long overnight flight to Paris then London.

Sounds good in theory, no?

Then we fell asleep. And then Ashley set alarms to go off every hour so we wouldn’t sleep too long.

Then we get on the plane from Atlanta and here we are wide awake. Partially to blame? The Rabbi sitting next to us.

Now, he probably wasn’t a Rabbi, but he looked like one. He also didn’t speak English, may have made out with a Coke can and put his butt on my shoulder when he was getting stuff out of the overhead bin entirely too many times. Oh, and he sang. At 5 a.m.

Good morning.

They played Jane Eyre as the first of our three movies on the flight over – it wasn’t one of those cool ones where you get to pick your own movies.

I should’ve fallen asleep then, because that movie was boring. Play that one at 2 a.m. when people need to sleep. Not at 10.

I’m fairly certain Ashley and I slept a combined, cumulative total of about 2.5 hours on that plane. Because it’s hard to get comfortable with about a foot of leg room because the old man in front of you is leaning all the way back the entire flight and his wife keeps giving you and your friend the stankeye for some unknown reason every 30 minutes or so.

So we were up at sunrise, which also happened to be as we were beginning our descent into France.

We got to the Paris airport around 6:15 a.m. Around the same time as approximately no one else in the world.

Ashley opted for some caffeine – a Coke – which led us to our first encounter with a Brit that day.

And he was a doozy.

Picture…I don’t even know. Zigler (sp?) from Moulin Rouge only with gray hair. Zigler, if you’ve never seen the movie with one of the best soundtracks ever, is the club owner of the Moulin Rouge in the movie.

So Zigler sits down next to us and tells Ashley she shouldn’t be drinking Coke in the morning, or at all, really, because it’ll “hurt your tum tum.” His words, not ours.

Nevermind the fact that he’s been drinking an equally healthy breakfast of champagne.

Champagne. Breakfast of champions. I’m all for a mimosa but I’m pretty sure this guy was just drinking the stuff straight. Because he tells us:

“Champagne in the morning is like hot, sweaty sex in the afternoon. You have it one time and afterwards, you’re like, ‘Hmm. That was quite nice. I think I’ll do that again.”

Good morning.

He then starts to tell us about his experiences with “The Other Coke.” Yeah. The drug one. The one that, according to him, the should advertise with the disclaimer that it “makes your willy stop working.” Because if they just put that information out there, no men would ever do the stuff.

All this before we’ve even set foot in England.

We get to England and after navigating Heathrow and the seemingly daunting tube system, we’re there.

And all we feel like doing is falling asleep.

But we didn’t! We were advised against it, because though it was 3 a.m. our time and we’d had next to no sleep, if we napped now, we’d be messed up all week. But that couch looked so comfy…

You’ll be happy to know we resisted temptation and after a couple cups of coffee, we headed out for our first day in a completely different country.

On our first day’s itinerary? A bus tour of the city. We’d snap some pictures, see what – if anything – we wanted to go back to.

And nothing wakes you up from a zombie-like state more than 40 mph winds hitting you in the face while you’re on the top, open level of a double decker bus.

We got lots of great shots, only a few of which I’ll share here:

But suffice it to say, we had renewed energy.

Until we got on the tube, which we both fell asleep on but still managed to get off at the right stop.

After some catching up with our hosts and a yummy dinner, we did the best we could to try and stay up until at least 9 p.m. That, they said, would be a good time to go to bed ’cause we’d be able to sleep all night.

I think I made it to 9:01.

And, wouldn’t you know it, 13 HOURS LATER, we were rested and refreshed and ready to go.

More on day 2 another day. I can’t give it to you all at once. If I did you’d have nothing to come back for!

Oh and the name of this post? Apparently that was the subject of a before bed conversation but I couldn’t tell you what was said if I tried.

And then it got quiet

I know what you’re thinking.

“OH she has all this time to write and gets us used to reading something every day and then goes and heals from surgery and we never hear from her again.”

No? Not thinking that?

OK. Well. I haven’t written in a week, yes, on account of rejoining the real world after two weeks of acting like a sloth – the animal, not the deadly sin, because it was totally not by choice – is some hard stuff.

Did you know that in the real world you can’t take two naps a day? And people don’t bring you food anymore? And you have to wait until you’re like, waiting in the waiting room at the doctors office to get any Angry Birds playing done.

Have I mentioned though that I’m beyond happy to be back among the living? Seriously. Don’t misinterpret what I said back there.

In other news, I’m pretty sure they made my belly button bigger and I’ve learned that you don’t lift heavy things – including chubby 10-month-olds no matter how cute they may be – until you’re about a month recovered. ‘Cause you’ll pay. And it won’t even be worth it ’cause the kid will just cry the majority of the time.

Oh and even if you sit out on the bowling that your friends are doing, just people-watching at a bar will make you dog-tired.

Maybe I was so tired because I saw things I couldn’t un-see. Like girls that get dressed to go out but don’t look at themselves before they do. Or they don’t have friends that are nice enough to say “Hey, listen, you might want to change ’cause that dress is 8 sizes too small. Also, I can see your business when you dance to Lady Gaga. And every other song. And when you walk up stairs.” Ladies. Has Britney taught you nothing?

So yeah. Get ready for more content. Like some awesome amazing kick-ass special stuff, because rumor has it some website is approaching its second birthday… (I’ll give you a hint, the girl who writes it, her name starts with L and ends with aura. Good luck figuring it out.) … and birthdays always mean good things.

And to answer your question, yes. We will always accept birthday presents.

More cleaning than springing

I’ve not really done the whole “Spring Cleaning” thing before. I mean, I’ve thrown stuff out and I’ve usually done it when the weather’s warm, because, let’s face it, who wants to leave the house when it’s cold, let alone trudge all the way to the dumpster? By the way, it’s still cold. Didn’t spring start Saturday? Why The Face?

Lately, I’ve been realizing I need to get rid of some stuff. Mainly, because I don’t need a piece of paper from every single class I ever took or that school picture that one cute boy in high school gave me and drew a heart on the back of (shut up, it’s in the trash now). Also, because the memories are more important than the material stuff – LOOK AT ME GETTIN’ ALL SAPPY AN’ SHIZ – and oh, because I have a LOT of JUNK.

So. Tonight. At about 10 p.m. (because isn’t that when all cleaning gets done and also why am I using so many parentheses, quotes and dashes in this post?) I decided the beast that is my walk-in closet (jealous?) needed to be tamed.

And here I am, 2.5 hours later, with 3.5 trash bags worth of stuff hauled out of that thing I call a closet. AND IT’S STILL PACKED. Why do I have all this stuff? Why haven’t I thrown it away by now? At least now, though, I can get to my dresser. And suitcases. And that stuffed elephant that I brought with me on every trip I ever took during high school and college.

Oh. And I found that electric bill from my apartment in Owenton from 2007. I WAS WONDERING WHERE THAT WAS.

And then life – and insomnia – got in the way

Remember how, like, a month or so ago I said, “hey I’m gonna do this couch to 5K thing” and I was super-motivated for some crazy reason?

Yeah…about that.

It’s been a little busy and I’ve been a little sleep-deprived as of late and seriously the only thing I ever want to do anymore is sleep. Until I get into my bed. And then I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking about tomorrow..and the next day…and oh, December…you know, thinking RIDICULOUSLY FAR AHEAD.

So here we go with the excuses. Blame insomnia, blame stress from work, blame taking on other commitments during the week outside of work. Blame Seasonal Affective Disorder.

I want to go to the gym. I want to get back into running like I was when I was getting myself ready for all those 5Ks and planning for next year’s (again with the thinking WAY AHEAD). But I need a regular schedule for that. I don’t know one week to the next what will come up. I mean, I have a semi-regular schedule, but stuff happens. Then there’s my not-work commitments, which just recently changed. I have yet another night of the week that’s busy. And I don’t mind it at all. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to. But with all this, the work, the not-work, the trying to still have a social life instead of just watch TV at my apartment all the time – I am busy. And busy makes me tired. And busy also makes me stay awake – to think about all the things that are keeping me busy. Then I stay up until 1 or 2 a.m. and want to sleep too long in the morning – I even have slept a little long a couple times, but definitely not on purpose.

I am never going to be a morning person. I’ve tried to be. I can’t. Especially now. One of the ways I could fix the whole finding time to work out thing is by getting up before work in the morning. Ohhhh do I wish I could. Really I do. What I need is something to do in my apartment. An elliptical machine or treadmill or something that I could do any time of day, while I’m watching TV.

I don’t want to be lazy. And I don’t think I am, in any other part of my life. It’s just so hard to make myself go do something when all I really want to do is just relax, because I don’t have that much time to do that these days. I’m gonna figure something out.

In other news – very, very cute pictures of kids in Halloween costumes coming soon. 🙂

Ode to insomnia

Oh insomnia, you keep me awake when I really need to be sleeping.
You make me watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S. at 11:30 and midnight, even though I’ve seen every single episode, several times in fact.
You make me need/want to take naps at odd times of the day – like 7 p.m.
I can’t turn my brain off when it’s time to go to bed, and I’m tired in the morning.
TV isn’t helping – I’ll watch COPS if it’s on in the middle of the night – and LOST at 1 a.m.
So, even though I should be sleeping now, here I sit, watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S. and not tired in the least.
And tomorrow I’ll be tired, and then do it all over again.

Nightey night…in at least another hour..

P.s. I am horrible at updating this thing lately. But I will get better. 🙂