WHINY POST - MOSTLY FOR MY MEMORY

Okay, I know that if you live on the Wasatch Front you were probably right in the thick of things with me, but I just gotta write about it. So, for your early disclaimer: skip if you're tired of hearing about the damn snow storm. I know I kinda am.

Thursday afternoon brought on the most vicious snow storm that I've seen in a few years. Maybe there has been worse, but at least in the past 2 years that I've been working at the U there has been no such commute that could even hold a candle to this one. My commute home took me three hours, from 4 p.m. - 7 p.m. pretty much on the dot. At least things we're tied up nice and neat -- none of this 4:08 - 7:03 business. I like my numbers nice and rounded.

As I drove down the slowly declining hill that is South Temple I had vivid flashbacks of 5 years ago, almost to the day, when I totaled my car, rammed into a paraplegic (who was also in a car), who then hit a lady with expired plates and a suspended licence - all on that South Temple hill. But I think that shall be a story for another day.

The drive to the freeway took a little more time, but once I got on the freeway I was cruisin' along at a consistent 5 mph...the whole way home. I kid you not and swear up and down and up again that while my tires graced the freeway no faster speeds were had.

Luckily, I had some books on CD just waiting to be listened to. During those three hours I managed to get through 4.5 disks of this story. I recommend it by the way. About 2 hours into it and not yet even to Centerville I did one of those big yawn stretches and lo and behold, instead of a yawn came out a yell. A frustrated my bum hurts I'm hungry and I may die yell. It felt good. Highly recommended as well.

After that I decided to take some very dramatic photos of how I was really feeling, because don't tell me that a little bit of drama, kept to ones self, doesn't make things a little bit better. Please also take note that at this time I was stuck on a bridge, a mere mile from Kaysville's main street, not moving an inch - FOR 13 MINUTES. So I felt completely sure that no one was put at risk during this photo shoot. 

Luckily, J.rue got off around the same time I did and we were also on and off the phone trying to figure out the fastest way home. I chose the freeway (obv.) while he chose the back roads. He beat me home by 2 minutes. While I was sitting on that bridge for 14 minutes I did get the genius idea to order a pizza. It was there not a mere seconds after we got home. 

So, pajamas were promptly put on, candles were lit and the pizza was split right down the middle - that's a rule of Ruesch Manor -- and we hunkered down for the evening. 

A movie couldn't be agreed upon so I took the electric blanker downstairs and caught up on all the new and delicious TV that I'd missed out on that week...

And j.rue claimed the bedroom with the space heater and watched bucket loads of sports. Don't worry, goodnight kisses were still exchanged.

I had Friday off and luckily j.rue's boss said he could work from home to avoid inevitable death by snowstorm. Bless her. J.rue decided that working off his dinky laptop screen was unacceptable, so the TV was moved from the bedroom to the dining room table for the day...actually the weekend. And actually it's still there. We're going to have to fix that.

As for today? I've had better Mondays. I'm hoping today isn't a sign of what this week is to be like.

THE SECRET LIFE OF BEES...IN MY HOUSE.

It all started on a warm Sunday afternoon in October when I found the largest bumble bee of my life, dead in my laundry room, because it's leg had gotten stuck in a bobby pin. Sad. I actually don't know if that plays into my story, I just think it's gross. And sad. Also, let me preface that I am unnaturally terrified of bees. But then the real story begins a couple weeks ago...

When I got home from work I started find a tiny decapitated dead bee by my dogs food bowl in the kitchen from time to time. Gross, but manageable. I figured Coop was just decapitating the little intruders as they tried to steal his food. What self respecting dog wouldn't? The next week I found Coop barking at the carpet, for like 30 minutes. Yes, I am the kind of person who can let her dog bark incessantly for 30 minutes before investigating. Bring on the babies. Anyway as I was walking out to give him a piece of my mind I almost stepped on a bee taking a leisurely stroll through our living room. Okay, at this point, still manageable, while wearing shoes at all times.

Then, I started finding 2,3,4 dead bees at a time, on the kitchen floor. They were dead, so I complained to j.rue about it, and he promptly responded by starting a "bee collection" by putting their dead carcasses on our kitchen window sill. You know, as a warning to the others. That didn't last long.

One night, I was sitting at our bar eating some very nutritious frosting for dinner while watching a riveting episode of Grey's Anatomy. When out of no where came a very loud buzzing sound flying around my head. At least 3 times. I managed to grab my frosting and my Grey's (but somehow left my pants, shoes, and dignity) and ran outside, refusing to re-enter the premises until J.rue had cleared it. He killed the little bugger and life resumed back to normal.

Come this last Saturday morning. I was going about my business, showering, getting ready to beat the crowds to Costco. You know, the things only the best Saturdays are made of. I went down to the laundry room (naked) and started rummaging through the laundry basket looking for a fresh pair of unders, not satisfied with anything that was turning up. All of a sudden, I actually looked at that laundry basket full of unmentionables and realized that I was disturbing the LARGEST wasp/bee (because it WAS a mix of the two, a mutant if you will) who was lazily napping in said basket. Obviously after so many bee encounters I calmly walked my naked self up to the kitchen, took the bee killer spray, and sprayed that sucker until he'd seen his last day. Wiped my hands clean and moved on with the day, you know?

NOT! I actually ran my naked butt upstairs, screaming like only the littlest of girls could, and insisted to J.Rue that we were both, in fact, going to die, right then. That mutant bee was out to get us. J.rue calmly walked down stairs, captured it (WHAT?!@#$) and then started taking a look around. That's when he started gathering the masses. Luckily, most of them were dead. One did try to attack, but nothing messes with J.Rue. The photo above is proof.

Obviously, by the time J.rue came back upstairs I was a ball of naked hysterics. I was crying, twitching, wailing, all at the same time. So, that sweet boy of mine got me dressed, patted my bum, and sent me off to Costco, with promises of not resting until every bee in our house had met their maker. Needless to say, my skin was crawling for rest of the day. Doesn't yours by just looking at that picture? Also, it pains me to think that I sad in the room right next to this one watching countless Christmas movies, while those little devils flew around. A mere feet away!!!

Almost done, promise...So yesterday, I was going about my routine, getting ready to throw the sheets into the wash, when I came across the mass bee genocide. J.Rue forgot to clean up hill victims and I was still recovering from PTSD of the day before. We went through the hysterics one more time. I also need to add that there was a bee plotting his revenge for the death of his brothers by sitting on my keys that morning. Just waiting for me.

For your Monday morning update: No, I will not go into the basement to do laundry. Yes, I have visions of waves of bees breaking down a wall and swarming me.. Yes, We have clean unders to last us at least a week and we're still sleeping on dirty sheets.

More updates soon.