When Leah was a little thing, she used to sing “homagin, homagin!” over and over as we pulled up the driveway and into the garage.� I thought that as the plane taxied to the runway in Indy…� I’m home again!

David met me at the airport when we flew in after several delays, saying he had a surprise for me.� He had tickets to a concert.� I was floored, thinking “What?� David bought tickets to a concert?”

We’re not concert people.� And he’s not a ticket-buying person.� Turns out, though, that my world is still intact – they were bought by a friend’s boss and his date stood him up.� He gave the tickets to my friend, and my friend gave them to David.� Which is why David was standing there with tickets to a Michael Buble concert.� Again, something we NEVER would have gone to see.� But, we’re usually up for something different.� We decided to go – knowing full well that we’d spend most of the concert being amazed at the cheese and the crazy ladies.

And crazy ladies there were in abundance.� Screaming ladies, yelling ladies, swooning ladies.� And teens!� So many of them… screaming “I love you, Michael” at every quiet moment.� It was insane.� Oh, yeah – there was also this super man fan sitting next to on top of me.� He’d had four beers before he took his seat (the cups were stacked and he smelled).� A few songs in, he and his date got up (spilling their beer all over the floor and my foot) and started dancing (drunkenly and a bit like hippies) in the aisle.� They never did come back.

Aside from that mess and the sheer cheese of a crooner concert, we had a good time.� We laughed a lot, at the people there and at Michael himself.� He was a lot funnier (and fouler) than I thought he’d be.� He has a great voice, and his jazz stuff was really good.� His swagger, his jokes, his personality onstage – it was like he was channeling Frank Sinatra.� The worst part of the evening was the pop set – those songs sucked.� Really badly.� David and I left when he made the crowd stand up and clap with him.� I just really don’t go for that stuff.

All in all, it was a good way to spend a Friday night – doing something different.

I’m back.

I’m also working four weeks of 10 hours of overtime. That’s 40 hours at time and a half. At my consultant/contracting rate.� =) That sounds pretty danged good to me. (I’m not usually that girl, but just think about the shoes I can buy!)

So. Not a lot of time for posting and taking pictures (sorry, Leah). But I’m dropping in tonight to ask two things:

1. What is UP with my husband’s fascination with Deal or No Deal? (It’s my personal opinion that there is no worse example of the degredation of the entertainment industry. )
2. Why is it that I haven’t thought of high school in years and years and all of a sudden it’s on my mind now? (Answer: Facebook. They’ve found me.)

Pirate Dave, originally uploaded by tara.aukerman.

This is pirate Dave.

When friend & coworker DD heard that David spent the day scrubbing our deck so it could be stained and sealed, she sent me home with an eye patch… so he could be a proper pirate. This is him. Wearing the patch.

It’s kinda funny… One of the kids at church, Kaylin, is writing a story featuring David and I. In this story, David is the pirate captain and I’m his first officer (mate? I don’t know pirate terminology). Maybe I’ll suggest this as cover art… =)

… and that’s it. We’re done with the traveling for [hopefully] a long time. =)

This time, the drive didn’t seem that long. It was only 6 hours to WVA, and since we hadn’t driven a long distance in over a week, we were ready for a road trip. Seriously… I felt kinda weird staying home last weekend. It was the first weekend since the beginning of December that we didn’t travel out of the state. I’m starting to feel at home in my car.

I always enjoy going to West Virginia. My folks out there are the neatest people… and I got to see an uncle from Ohio and an aunt from Idaho while I was there. We always have a grand ‘ol time, squeezing as many people into the house as possible (we had 10 people crashing at once, this time). We’ve done the same thing – cramming folks in and spending a whirlwind couple of days together – for as long as I can remember.

These last two trips (one in August, one this weekend) have been different from years past. I hadn’t been back in several years before the August trip, so when I did go, it was an interesting experience. I was seeing all the things and people I’d grown up with through my adult eyes. I noticed things I never saw when I was a kid. My favorite change: I’m starting to get to know my cousin, Robin.

We’ve always been pals – we’re Hestle’s (my dad’s mom) girls. =) That means, among other things, that as the oldest girls in our respective nuclear families, we’ve inherited some interesting traits – a propensity for sass being high on the list. But now that I’m not much of a kid anymore, I’m starting to appreciate Robin. She’s just… NEAT. I like her a lot, and each time I visit lately, I’ve been looking foward to spending time with her. And watching her tease my mother. =)

Anyway, I do believe we’re done with the traveling for a little while.� Maybe things will settle down enough that I can get back into some kind of a routine.� My house really needs a little bit of attention – and we have work to do!� Our next project is the downstairs bathroom.� David’s torn the cabinets out, and we’ve started stripping the awful yellow paint from the beautiful original wood.� Pictures soon.� =)

We’re travelling – visiting family in�rural, rural�West Virginia.� My sister, Leah, has been visiting us for the past couple of weeks, and we�are here both to visit and to drop her off with my parents, who are also visiting.

Today, some dude stopped us in a parking lot as we were going into a store.� He said, “Can I ask you guys a really big favor?”� He wanted us to spot him for some gas.� He said he was on a trip and had just come from the gas station (which was on the other side of the parking lot), and realized then that he’d left his money clip with his credit cards and cash at home.� He said if we’d help him, he’d send a check or Western Union (can I use that as a verb?) the money back to us, etc., etc.

We put $20 of gas into his car for him and told him not to worry about it.� Either he’s an honest guy, and we did a decent thing for another decent human, or he’s a con and we’d never see the payback anyway. Whatever.� Angels unaware and all that.

We had fun, however, inventing stories for the guy – if he wasn’t who he said he was, who is he?� We thought he might be:

• driving a stolen car, but there was no wallet in the glove box like he thought when he stole it
• a dude living with his mom – who grounded him and took away his allowance (he was in his forties)
• on the lam, trying not to leave a paper trail with his credit card
• in the Amazing Race (or something like it), where he had to get to the next destination with no money
• competing with old frat buddies – who can get the farthest from home without paying for anything
• in a fight with his woman, who kicked him out and stole his money

Whoever he was, he’s part of a long string of folks asking us for a few bucks.� Seems like, even in SUPER rural West Virginia, we can’t get away.� =)

I’m back and it’s yucky out – cold and wet and gray.� Hawai’i seems like a million miles away.� I’ve been nursing a chai and whining to my�officemate – P’s great at commiserating.

Speaking of P, she was involved in another atrocious-working-conditions fiasco while I was gone.� One of the guys on my team (JR from earlier posts) had to evacuate his office.� It’s directly below the bathroom upstairs.� The toilet overflowed – onto his desk!� They keep saying it was just the tank, but no one believes that.� P was in his office in a flash and ended up cleaning everything, top to bottom, with Clorox.� Yuck!

I talked to our office manager before I left – I let him know how I [we]�felt.� He was sympathetic, but basically said, “There’s nothing I can do.”� I suggested that he talk to someone who could do something.� Doubt he’ll do anything, but at least I’ve done more than just whine.� =)� I’m thinking that since the petition thing�worked so well for the HoHos, maybe we should give that a shot.

That didn’t take very long.�

A guy from church had someone in his family drop off some fancy-shmancy eco-friendly laundry detergent for us to try.� We weren’t home, so I guess the messenger just popped it in our mailbox.� Unfortunately, we acted rather too quickly in throwing away the mystery liquid.� But seriously�- it wasn’t labeled and we live in the ghetto!� No label, no note, no advance notice…� How were we to know?� At best, it looked like something someone tossed into the box because they were too lazy to throw it away.

*sigh*

It was so much more fun as a mystery.

Yesterday, instead of our mail, we received a suspicious, possibly sinister item.� Did someone steal our mail in order to leave this item?� We don’t know.�

I got home from work, turned off the alarm, and let the dog out.� As is my custom, after I let the dog out (and before he comes back in), I check the mail.� I was surprised to find no actual mail in the box – we are quite popular with the folks who offer credit cards, and there’s always an ad or two in our box.� Even on holidays, sometimes.

No mail.� Just a small plastic bottle containing an unknown viscous fluid.� Behold:

Could it be a bomb?� Could it, when opened, release gases intended to kill us?� Could it be some kind of marker (a tag placed in our mailbox by a would-be thief, saying our house is ripe for the pickin’)?� Could it be some bum’s shampoo (it was raining out)?� Could it be a message of some kind?� Could it be a gift?� What does it mean?

We gingerly carried it out to our dumpster, without shaking, bumping, or opening the bottle.� The city picked up our trash today.� We figured “better safe than sorry” – but now we’ll never know what it is.

To the person who placed this item in our mailbox:�

• If this was an attempt to kill or maim us, you failed.� Please don’t try again.�
• If this was a marker for�theives, HAH!� We thwarted you!� And anyway, we have a big dog and a very loud alarm system that’s connected to the police.� You don’t wanna mess with our house.
• If you’re a bum and you’re missing your shampoo, come talk to me.� I’ll replace it.
• If this was a gift or a secret message, I’m sorry we threw it away.� Next time, leave a note.�
• Also, if you stole our mail, please return the bills, letters, and cards – you can keep the rest.

I have hit a new level of crazy recently when it comes to organization.

My closet (including the shoes) and my dresser drawers (9 of them) are all organized by:

• type of garment� – short-sleeved shirts, dress pants, casual pants, long-sleeved shirts, sweaters, etc.
• size – regular, baby-doll, short, capri, long, etc.
• color – dark to light

It’s not unusual for my clothes to be so organized – what’s unusual is that the organization has lasted longer than one day.� Typically, I straighten up and organize, then proceed to live normally (messily).� When things are messy enough to drive me (or my husband) crazy, I do another round of straightening.� It’s a cycle.

I’m not cycling anymore.� I’m stuck in organization overkill mode.� It’s spread from my bedroom and clothes to other parts of my house, and even to my office.� I’m normally pretty neat, but it’s getting out of control.� On my desk, things have to be stacked just so.� In the stacks, things are organized.� Even the post-it notes, which are typically everywhere (I like taking little notes and keeping them where I can see them – it gives me a sense of accomplishment to throw them away) are organized onto a small section of wall just below my corkboard, which is also organized.

Bethany (my closest girlfriend, who’s studying the DSM right now in her social work masters’ program) suggested to me last night that I’m so anal about organization because I can’t control something (not getting into it here) that’s going on in my life.� She says because I feel helpless (subconsciously, of course) in that area, I have to control everything else.

Or, that I’m pregnant (I’m not) and nesting.� =)

We hosted the third (our second) annual pumpkin carving extravaganza over the weekend.� The founding folks were all there – David & me, Jason & Robin, and Bethany & James – as well as some veterans who were at the second annual extravaganza.� There were the ever-present hot cider and caramel apple snacks, and, of course, the pumpkins.� Cooking the pumpkin seeds was such a fiasco last year that we didn’t resurrect that “tradition,” though we tried to carry over all the others (StrongBad pumpkin designs, fighting siblings, etc.).� The biggest change from last year – young children.� We had babies and kids still in single digits running all over the place.� Also, our dog – he had a smorgasbord of pumpkin bits to eat, and eat he did!� Here are a couple of fun pictures from the shindig: