7.22.2012

Fat Girl

Two posts in two days? What??? Yes it is true. Obviously, my husband is not home.

As many of you have now realized... I moved! We love our new apartment in Plano! It does not smell like 40 year old death musk and the people 3 floors down are very alive. Freedom!

If none of that makes sense to you, perhaps you should read here

I was down in Houston this past week on work. Overall it was a successful and fulfilling trip... but no one wants to hear those kinds of stories. So, this is the story of how my famed luck failed me.

After braving a vicious thunderstorm and having my GPS give out on the bad side of town, I stumbled into my hotel later than I had intended. I had already booked a room, so I wasn't afraid of not having a place to sleep, but there is a certain hour that girls who are traveling alone need to avoid. I introduced myself to the concierge was greeted warmly (and with a cookie!) but told that the place was full and the only room available was a smoking room. Blech. He assured me it wouldn't be as bad as I thought and the next night the would move me to another room.

I rode up to the top floor, heaved my my duffel, backpack, pillow, and cooler to the end of a hall and stuck in my key card. Red light. I stuck it in again. Red light. Slower this time. Red Light. Faster. RED.

Completely exhausted, I dragged myself and my unwieldy belongings back to the front desk, waited in line again, had my cards remade, and returned to wait for the elevator again. Enter creep. Why is it that every greasy looking guy MUST fufill the stereotype of sleazy whoremonger? Does a wedding ring mean nothing??? He thought he was so clever asking why I would bring a pillow to hotel and asking if I had the rest of my bedset in my duffel. HAVE YOU NEVER WATCHED CSI? Who knows what happens in hotel rooms??! I don't want the creepy glow in the dark liquid in my hair, thank you VERY much.

I finally get to the room and BAM, I hit a wall of smoke as I came through the door. Grrrrrreat.

The first time I wrote this, it went a little long. So let me sum it up... by the end of my three day stay, I had missing possessions, a group of creeps who literally sat outside the gym and watched me workout, and was still in the smokey room.

As a side note to my husband not being home, I decided today that if I hadn't married before I finished college, I would be morbidly obese. Breck and I parted for the first time since we've tied the knot and my day went like this:

4:55 AM: Woke up on the couch in yesterdays clothes. Adjusted and went back to sleep.
9:50 AM: Woke up.
10:00 AM: Ice cream. Lots of ice cream.
10:10 AM - 1:00 PM: Pinterest.
1:10 PM: Ate queso and chips then returned to couch.
1:20 - 6:00 PM: Continued to sit on couch.
6:10 PM: More chips and queso.


I eventually got around to unpacking (from Houston), cleaning, and re-packing (for Arkansas) but the lure of the couch and queso is still very real.

5 comments:

  1. Love your posts, you are thoroughly awesome! Sorry about the 'couch potato' syndrome...feeling the same with no daddy home...Sundays may get REAL long these next few years! Hmmmmm..note to self: don't buy junk food , btw, chips and quest don't tempt me at all.

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  2. You're hilarious. We stopped at some scary unknown location driving home and I know what you mean about a wedding ring meaning nothing. its sick. I feel ya. Taylor works over night at the mtc often and I have air the same schedule haha

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  3. B! that picture of you! hahaha i am dying.

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