The other day I was Skyping with my mom and little sister and something came up in the conversation to which I replied, "That is jacked up. J- jacked up." My little sister got a confused look on her face as any normal person might and demanded an explanation for my odd outburst. But my little sister isn't the only one to have heard that phrase escape my mouth at one time or another and I figure that it's about time to tell the world the story of Tallulah and Gorge.
Allison didn't like me when we first met. Not a great way to start a friendship. Our mothers were friends and even tried getting our two families together for dinner to force a friendship, but to no avail. But then I moved to England and when I came back we got a re-do.
You've felt it. I know you have. There you are, minding your own business and suddenly your rhythmic breath that you haven't been paying attention to is interrupted. Your upper body experiences a slight convulsion and a most unattractive noise escapes your mouth. You didn't ask for them and no one gave them to you, but somehow you have gotten the hiccups.
They say to hold your breath, but lets be honest, that never works. You try it anyway but then gasp for air and its as if your hiccups have decided to stay with a vengeance. You begin to breath very methodically, just hoping that you can get through this next breath without another 'episode'.
This army of small hiccups has invaded your body and their plan of attack is to escape one at a time by force with a loud battle cry that to you sounds like some kind of gasping, chest/throat exasperation. And if by chance they catch you while you're talking, the sound is even louder and can be quite offensive to whoever the hiccup solider lands on.
Suddenly you remember some old adage about a glass of water. But that only seems to make them angry. You can't even get one gulp down before the hiccups force you to spew the water back out at a surprising velocity, leaving a mess on the floor.
Now you're mad too. You seem to have forgotten that you have to drink the water upside down. But when you painstakingly make your way to stand on your head the hiccups only mock you. They seem to be laughing with such a strong convulsion that eventually you fall down and slide in the puddle of water right into your bookcase. "What an awful place for a bookcase," you think. And then you remember, it's not the bookcase's fault that you cut your arm, have a headache, are covered in water and are dreading each breath...it's the parasitic hiccups that have latched onto your insides and are making your life a living hell.
But then, while you are stewing in fury, planning an epic attack, and at the same time wondering how your life will ever be the same you notice that you're breathing just fine and the hiccups have gone on their way in search of another victim. For a second you feel a little sad, you didn't even get to say goodbye. But not to worry, they are lying in wait for when you least expect it.
***Yeah, that whole post was really about hiccups. Not some metaphorical hiccup in my life right now. Bet you didn't expect that when you clicked on the link. I had hiccups when I started writing this post and then as I was finishing it, I realized they were gone. I think if you're not constantly thinking about them they get their feelings hurt and leave, heads hung in shame.**
(I actually started writing this a while ago and then because of finals and whatnot I saved it and now I'm finishing it...just fyi)
Have you ever seen Clue? At the end it gives you three alternate endings. That's how I'm going to tell this story.
Let's start off with a little background. Chris and my bed is up against a window looking over a beautiful view of the valley. We used to have our bed on a frame but we moved the frame into the guest bedroom to put our extra mattress on for when Chris' family came to visit.So instead of having a headboard in between our bed and the windowsill we just have a big windowsill. It's a pretty big windowsill so we always keep a glass of water (or two) on it for when we get thirsty in the heat of the middle of the night. (Yeah I know it's December but I think we have the heat on too high or something because I always wake up in the middle of the night completely parched because of the heat.) And obviously we can't get up and get water in the middle of the night because it's common knowledge that there are monsters and other creepers hiding in the shadows of the house (they disappear at the light of day). SO last night we had two glasses of water sitting on the windowsill above our bed, one from several nights ago that didn't get drunk (drank? drinked?)...that no one drank (there we go).
Well Chris has to get up at 5:30AM (a whole hour before me). And I can tell that he's jealous that I get to sleep a whole hour longer than him. So this morning he woke up in a fit of jealousy. "Why do I have to get up an hour earlier than she does?! How is this fair?!" He thought in that cute little head of his. That's when the wheels started turning. "You know what, it's not fair. She should wake up right now...with me." And with that he dipped his fingers in one of the cups on the window sill and flicked some water on my face.But that didn't do the trick. I'm a deeper sleeper than that. Well then he got frustrated at that point, and took it to the extreme. He picked up the cup in his fist full of rage and then he proceeded to pour it on my head. The water was very cold. I sprung out of bed, just as he wanted and yelled to first word that came to my head which just happened to be the 'S' word.
"SOCK!"
"That's what you get for sleeping an hour later than me." Then he got up, stormed out of the room and headed off to work.
That's how it could have happened...
...But what about this?
We went to bed at a reasonable hour and, like always, Chris got a cup of water to put on our window sill for those scratchy throat kind of nights. And lalala we fell asleep. Then in the middle of the night (what actually constitutes the 'middle' of the night? Does it depend on when you go to bed and when you wake up? Because technically most people consider the early AM's the middle of the night but obviously that's actually the morning. Well all I know is at this point I had been sleeping for several hours at least.) I arose to hear such a clatter. And there in the middle of my bedroom was a small furry green monster. His eyes were yellow and he reminded me a lot of another furry green monster with a heart two sizes too small. Well I immediately pulled the covers up to my chin (because everyone knows that monsters are afraid of covers, why else do we always pull them up over our heads when we're scared?) and I yelled, "I knew you were real! This is why I never get up in the middle of the night!"
Then, as though he had just noticed me, the little monster got a smile on his face showing off his jagged teeth full of holes and little bugs that skittered in between each yellowed tooth. I couldn't stand the terrifying look on his face, so I pulled the covers the rest of the way over my head, but the blankets didn't seem to phase him as I had hoped they would. The next thing I know I could feel his little hands hoisting himself up onto the foot of the bed, then slowly but surely he pattered his way up the center of the bed in between me and Chris (who was asleep through the whole thing). When his little feet reached the level of our shoulders I could see little claws poke through my blankety shelter where I was still hiding. And then with a little bounce, he jumped onto the windowsill and I can only imagine that he somehow flew through the glass of the window and outside. However in the process of getting through the window, I imagine this to be a tedious task...even if the little thing did have some sort of magical power that granted him the ability to do so, he kicked over the glass of water which splashed all over me.
"SALT!" I exclaimed, as the icy cold water droplets worked their way from my sopping hair down my forehead and began to drip off my nose.
"Jocelyn! Watch your language!" Chris said. Sure, now he's awake. Trust me yelling the word salt to wake him up but not a freaky little monster crawling on our bed.
That might have been how I ended up sopping wet in the middle of the night/ early AM... but this is what really happened.
It was a night like any other: no little monsters or vindictive husbands. Chris and I went to sleep, not especially excited about the next day since it only meant more school and work and overall BLAH. Nonetheless we went through our whole night routine, complete with at least three cups of water sitting on our windowsill. Thankfully only one of them actually had water in it. As tends to happen during the sleep cycle, Chris began to dream. There he was in some epic battle fighting who knows what (I wasn't there myself) and naturally he was winning...he is my husband after all. And then the battle came down to him and the ultimate person to defeat, if this were a video game he'd be fighting the boss, an over sized ogre type thing wearing little clothing but with a huge club, and Chris would only have his pillow to fight with; it was a dream after all. Then suddenly Chris realized the only way to defeat the horrendous thing... he held tight to his pillow and threw his arms over his head preparing to beat the ogre with it, but before he could let the beating commence, he woke up to a loud,
"SNOW!" I yelled as I got over the shock of the freezing cold water. Chris of course was as dry as can be. I had to completely change my clothes. Then, since the bed was so wet, we moved into the guest bed room to sleep for the remainder of the night.
Epilogue
Unfortunately, we did not learn our lesson. Chris figured since he was the one who had splashed the water on me, if we just moved the water on my side of the windowsill it would be fine. Naturally a couple nights later I woke up once again to a cold shower of water on my head, this time from my own hand. Who knew that we both tend to randomly throw our arms over our heads in our sleep. I was in such a daze afterwards, still half asleep, that I just rolled of the end of the bed and went back to sleep in a ball on the floor, mumbling about being damp and confused (new movie title). And once again, Chris was completely dry.
Needless to say...we don't put water on the windowsill anymore. Ever.
So I'm sitting here at work bored out of my skull because there is no school today and therefore no one on campus so I really don't have anything to do. I worked on my Christmas list for my mother who wants it before black Friday, I made a list of books I'm going to check out from the library when I get off work, I've checked facebook and pinterest...the next step is to catch up on my blogging.
So this is a story about how I married the most incredible man in the world. It's called: "If only I could really LMAO, I'd be a much skinnier girl"
And it goes a little something like this:
Nobody likes Mondays. This past Monday however, wasn't especially bad. I went to work and school knowing that I didn't really have anything to do and in a couple days I would be on Thanksgiving break. Looking forward to the free time I would have in the next couple days, and the stress I wouldn't have, I was able to actually enjoy my Monday. I headed home from work at around 5pm to get started on dinner. I stopped by City Market to drop off our latest Redbox and pick up a new one. (My choice this time.) After standing in the cold for 10 minutes I narrowed it down to 'Just Go With It'. I hadn't even seen the previews but the synopsis sounded funny and it had Adam Sandler and Jennifer Anniston, both of whom I like, so I went for it.
At home I tossed the movie on the table/Chris' desk since we no longer actually have a table, and went to the kitchen to start cooking turkey for our turkey tacos.
"I got a movie that you may or may not like," I said as I walked in.
"I already know, you got a girl movie."
"Just look up the trailer, it's called just go with it."
"I know what it's called: Girl Movie, I'm looking it up right now."
Chris thinks he's soOOoo clever. But it did make me giggle a little bit. Check out the trailer he watched:
"It's a romantic comedy," Chris reiterates.
As if I needed any convincing since I was the one who picked out the movie. Back to the kitchen.
As the turkey cooked I chopping onions and Chris, being the nice (and obedient) husband that he is, started unloading the dishwasher. All was normal until Chris opened a cupboard door right above my head and as he opened it he sang an opera style 'Ahhhhh' in one high pitched tone but immediately stopped when he closed the door. Then he opened the cupboard right next to that one and repeated his opera singing for that cupboard with a different pitch but the same loud 'Ahhhh'. Then he slammed that cupboard door, stopped singing and opened them both with an even higher pitched 'Ahhhh'. And before I knew it my kitchen had turned into some sort of orchestra with Chris as the conductor, running from cupboard door to cupboard door and producing a somewhat strange yet hilarious song to say the least.
At this point I was crying not from the onions I had given up cutting, but from laughing so hard. And Chris was kind of like a child in that the harder I laughed, the more inspiration he had to continue his orchestra conducting. I ending up sitting on the floor and begging him to stop as if he were violently tickling me instead of just making my cupboards sing.
Eventually I finished cooking dinner and we watched our movie. Aside from laughing at the movie it was a pretty normal dinner and a movie sort of event. That was until after the movie when we felt the need to reenact the funniest parts of the movie. Like this scene where you meet the man who has had way to much botox.
After we finished the movie we kept trying to laugh like this guy to make fun of him but then we would start real laughing so hard that we couldn't keep a straight face. In our fits of laughing Chris fell over (we were already sitting on the floor) and knocked over a glass of water. I yelled at him to watch out but I was impossible to understand in between fits of giggling.
"Hurry get a towel, clean it up!" I said with a huge smile on my face.
Chris looked over at the large puddle of water, and then up at me, then reached over and proceeded to rub the water into the carpet with a goofy grin on his face. I was partially annoyed at the fact that he was making the puddle cover a wider area carpet but that annoyance was outweighed by how incredibly hilarious it was.
I grabbed a towel just in time to watch Chris attempt to reenact his scene:
Now I'm sure you're wondering...how could he mimic this scene by himself. Well he wasn't trying to get a coconut up to his mouth...he was trying to pick up the remote with his butt. Ha. That was funny. However the remote was so small that he couldn't squat down low enough to pick it up, and he fell over. So obviously we erupted into fits of laughter again. and again. and again.
"Are we weird?" Chris asked me. And you know what...we are. And I know we are. But it always makes me think of this quote:
If there were ever a quote to describe Chris and I, this would be the one. We are weird. Both of us in our own weird way. And since we've been married I think we have actually gotten weirder. But we have so much fun with our weirdness. It's brought us closer together. He is the only person who will let me let out my crazy, wacko side but he still finds me attractive somehow. I love that about us and our relationship. I love that we could never act the way we do around each other around anyone else.
SO this is my advice to anyone currently or who will ever be husband shopping. Look for someone who will make you laugh without trying but still tries to make you laugh. Look for someone who will tell you how much he loves your hair when you wake up in the morning and it is up in so many different directions that it looks like you just got out of a wind tunnel. Find the guy who asks you not to put make up on...A. cause it takes too long, and B. Cause he thinks you look better without it. But most importantly find the guy who will let you be you and doesn't mind your crazy quirks and someone who's crazy quirks you love and don't want to change.
I thank God everyday for my amazing husband and the incredible relationship we have. He is my best friend through and through. I never used to believe in soul mates or anything like that. But I think "maybe, we were made for each other."
