Confessions of a Very Intelligent Woman

Since 9-11, flying sucks. It just does. Well, flying sucked before 9-11 but now there are so many other obstacles that I stress majorly over it. The security, the random selection to make sure that you’re not a terrorist, not being able to carry lighters…seriously…

I don’t fly often…maybe three to four times a year and I’m most familiar with the Atlanta, Cincinnati, and St. Louis airports in addition to Roanoke Regional, my home airport.

In Cincinnati you have to pay for wireless internet which sucks when you’re on a 4 hour layover, but they have some of the best stores.

Atlanta is just HUGE and I always have to make it from terminal A to terminal D in 5 minutes which is impossible (and there’s another story there altogether!)

St. Louis is okay, but you can’t move between terminals so if you’re waiting with a friend, you have to say goodbye in the main area and there are two sections to it which always confuses me.

But, in the St. Louis airport, you always have to take your shoes off. I don’t have to do this everywhere, but always in St. Louis. And because I’ve flown a few times I knew the drill.

Let me back up to the morning of my flight. I was in the hotel and my cell phone rings. My boss is downstairs waiting for me and I’m not quite packed yet. I tell him I’ll be right down and quickly survey the room to see what I might have left behind.

Grab the smokes and throw them in my purse. Pick up my toothbrush and stick that down in my bag and I’m ready to walk out the door. As I go to zip up my laptop case I spot out of the corner of my eye something red.

It’s my underwear…yeah, don’t need to leave them in Columbia.

Because my suitcase is already packed up, zipped up, and locked, I shove them down in my laptop case and walk out the door. Stinky is waiting and I need to get going.

Fast forward to that afternoon — I’m at the airport and I get to the security checkpoint.

Shoes off and in the bin.

Coat off and in the bin.

It’s jam packed. There are so many people there and I just want to get through this line (because I have my lighter hidden in my wallet and I’m deathly afraid that this is the time that I’ll get “caught” with it)…

And of course we have to take our laptops out of the bags and put them in a bin too…and I don’t have enough hands. I’m trying to keep track of my license, my ticket, my two bags, and I reach in and grab my laptop.

As I’m doing this, I see something come flying out of my bag and land behind the security guard…checker…whatever you call the checkpoint people…yeah…that something?

MY UNDERWEAR!

Did I mention that it was packed with people? Um, yeah…my face turned as red as those panties…

They weren’t just any panties either…they were the red thongs with black polka dots…the most uncomfortable pair of underwear I own and the only reason that I had them with me is because I didn’t have time to do laundry before I left and I had slim pickings to chose from.

The security guard picked them up and handed them back to me. I quickly shoved them back in my bag hoping that no one noticed. But I know they did. And I’m sure they couldn’t wait to get to their final destination to tell their loved ones about the flying thongs….

It was going to be a FANTABULOUS day…

it was…it really was…I could feel it!

I woke up feeling somewhat better, my daughter was ready to go by 7:30 and minimal fighting…

I dropped them off at school came home, grabbed my Bible and journal ready for my quiet time…

As I settled in on the couch I decided that I wanted to top off my coffee…

Let me back up…

One of the things that I have been praying about and working on is facing my fears instead of running from them…I have a mouse…

(Actually, I have more than one…but more on that in a moment…)

It was more of a fear to me to see the mouse dead, in a trap, than it was to know that he was running amuck in my kitchen…kind of the old ignorance is bliss kinda deal… (sometimes, I sound SO stupid, even though I know that I’m not… )

Matthew has no issues with mice — dead or alive. He gladly volunteered to look at the traps in the morning before I woke up and dispose of any mice that were caught. (Let’s get over the fact that my 10 year old is braver than me for JUST a moment…talk about feeling salty!)

We had two glue traps left from the last time…I decided we would put them out… THIS MORNING! What better time to do this? In the back of my mind, in hindsight, it really wasn’t facing a fear…I say this because I wasn’t expecting to catch anything. The last time we got a grasshopper…

So…topping off my coffee before I settle in to read the first five chapters of Joshua….

I go to the kitchen…I turn the corner and as I’m about to open the refridgerator door I see them…

TWO mice… IN the glue trap… WRIGGLING AROUND!!!!!!!!

I raced from the kitchen and do what ANYONE else would do upon discovering TWO mice on their countertop stuck in glue…

I IM Lisa…to exclaim to her what just happened at my house…. (as if there is ANYTHING that she can do…)

It’s now 8:15am…the traps had only been out an hour before I made my discovery.

I’m going on and on to Lisa…I finally tell her that I’ll call Adam (my neighbor…who I normally have trouble asking for help from…but not today…) I wait until I see the guys working on his house pull up…then I call…I leave a message because he doesn’t answer (how DARE he, I have wriggling mice in my kitchen….) and go back to rambling…

Lisa says, “The way I see it, you have two choices…you can face your fears and go in and remove the mice yourself or you can wait for Adam to call you back…”

I decided to wait…UNTIL they started squeeking….and not quiet, cute squeeking…it was the “I’m stuck in a mousetrap and I know that I’m going to die” kind of squeek.

Lisa wanted me to take them outside and get them off the glue…getting them outside was an issue..

(Don’t I sound like such a girl?)

The short of it is…after I made my mind up that I was going in…I prayed, asked Him to come with me, and off we went…several times but eventually… one black trash bag, one valentine’s heart shaped candy box, and one spatula later…the mice were removed.

I return to the computer and tell Lisa that they are gone…she wants to know if they took the trap with them…I tell her that they are gone and that I got rid of them…

“All by youself?” she asks… “Nah, I had the Big Man with me,” I replied….

Who knew people would be so proud of me because I removed some mice?

With the mice behind me, I retreat into the living room to read Joshua…I wish I would’ve read this before I tackled the mice….

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” — Joshua 1:9 (NIV)

Well, He was with me in the kitchen alright…

As if the mice weren’t enough to give me a heart attack, I look out my office window and there is a white van and a police car…

Trying not to be the nosey neighbor, I continue working until I see the cop back into my driveway…

I’m not harboring any fugitive here…there are no drugs…so I can’t figure out why this cop would be pulling in my drive way and then… WALKING UP TO MY DOOR!!!

I answer the door (freaking out, because that’s what I do when a cop is around even though I’ve done NOTHING wrong…) and it’s Jason…yeah… I was at his house for the Superbowl and will be there this Sunday for a Pampered Chef party…. talk about breathing a huge sigh of relief…he was just telling me that someone backed into our mailboxes but that they were being fixed…

Yeah, so at least I know my beat cop now…and that I’m being watched over…but I don’t need the added stress or the racing heart twice in one day…

Now, let’s fast forward…it’s been a long day..I’m taxed emotionally, and physically too…I’m still not back up to full speed…

I get Matt to practice, we get the grocery shopping done, I come home to make dinner and I decide pancakes…because with pancakes, I don’t have to fight Samara to eat them…right?

All kids love pancakes…

I decide to try something new, but like an idiot, I do it in front of her… (a friend suggested using applesauce in the pancake mix) and of course she freaks out…I sighed and just went on doing what I was doing…

she ate them… (why, I don’t know…but she did) and she liked them…

WOW! Major accomplishment for me…my daughter tried something new….

It’s late and I wanted to get this all out before I forgot…it was a tiring day…but I made it through…

…and if the kids are alive at the end of the day then I’ve done my job…

That’s me…

That’s me right after the meltdown…

but it was more then melting…there were flames!

(Now, I need to point something out here…I don’t think I have ever produced flames in the kitchen…so this would be a first…)

But here’s what happened….

It was time for lunch… (I thought I would be considerate and eat before I called Yvonne) and so I set out to make my traditional “there’s no left overs” lunch — rice. Rice isn’t hard, ya know? You put it in water and you let cook for 20 minutes (or until all the water is soaked up in the rice — which, hey! is about 20 minutes.) I’m good at this. I make rice ALL THE TIME!!!!! Sometimes I put alfredo sauce on it, sometimes butter, sometimes cheese…. (they say peanut butter is good, but I’ve not tried that).

The point being — this was not a new cooking experience here.

I put in one cup of rice and one cup of water (remember this point — very important) — I sit it on the back left burner and I flip the knob and I walk away. I know that I have 3 minutes before it’s time to go back, stir, turn down to simmer, and wait.

All of a sudden I hear this noise…it sounded like a thud and I thought “that stupid mouse is back” (yes, there is a mouse in the house too) but it wasn’t a thud…it was a WHOOSH….

I turn around and look into the kitchen and I just see smoke.

I walk in the kitchen and that’s when I see the flames. Had they been in someone else’s kitchen I would’ve said they were pretty — but in mine…they were downright scary…

So, I utter a few explicitives (and that bothers me because I’ve REALLY been working on my mouth….) I find a bowl in the sink and I douse the flames…

Guess who turned the wrong burner on? Guess where that empty juice pitcher was?

I grab the pitcher handle and that’s when I realize (because my head feels a little hot) that the pitcher is still on fire…so I throw that in the sink and put it out…

Then I survey the damage…

Open the door, turn on the fan…everyone is okay…just feeling a little on the stupid side…

because…

guess who melted the OTHER pitcher we own last night while making dinner? (But it was just because the pitcher was sitting too close to the edge of the skillet)

we’re good to go…i turn the right burner on…and totally forget that i did that…so i come out and i’ve boiled all the water away (and i didn’t put enough in to begin with) and it’s just horrible…

I gave up…

today was not a good kitchen day…

…but I DO know how to make pretty flames on my stove…

Until next time…

Heather

Many felt that this story should have been included a month or so ago, however, I didn’t see the humor value in it at the time. To be honest, I’m still not seeing the humor value, but others are, so I’ll share.

When I meet new people (men in general) I try to be very honest about my shortfalls. I felt this only fair as I *am* a little off the beaten path. Included in these shortfalls were two of the most important: (a) I’m an accident waiting to happen and (b) I’m a disaster in the kitchen. Many fail to believe me.

Last night, I was grating mozzarella cheese. Yes, I realize that I can buy it already grated, and that was a suggestion while at the store, but I could save 20 cents if I grate it myself. I don’t know if my mind was elsewhere, or if I’m just retarded (perhaps it was a combination of both) but just as I was finishing up I felt this excruciating pain in my thumb. I looked down and there was blood.

“Damn it!” I screamed. No one asked what was wrong. This bothered me slightly, but I was in the kitchen and they are used to a stream of explicatives coming from that general direction when I’m in there. I walked out to the office with a paper towel wrapped around my thumb and that’s when my friend said something to me…”Did you cut yourself?”

“No,” I replied and then continued, “I grated myself.”

“Again?” he asked. I nodded.

“No more. This is the second time that you’ve done that. The last one just healed. I’ll grate the cheese from now on.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you get out of food preparation! (I’m just kidding — I wasn’t trying to get out of it.)

But at least now people know that I am telling the truth.

Who, other than Heather Jacobson, grates their own thumb….twice?

So Tuesday morning, I decide that I’m going to quit smoking. It was sort of a snap decision however I had been thinking about it for quite some time. I mean, I’ve been working for the past 2 months on changing me, making me better…all is good, except I’m still a smoker.

And I’m ashamed to admit that I’m a smoker. I sneak around people who don’t smoke and so, I had been contemplating it. But I just wasn’t ready. And my excuse? You’ll love this…. (more…)

Let me preface this by saying, I am not a morning person. Period.

Let me also say that I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in I can’t tell you how long. (I’m not blaming anyone, it’s just a fact.)

So this morning when Matthew comes running into my room, I’m startled from a deep sleep (and a pretty nice dream too.)

“Mom! Mom! There’s Pokemon toys on eBay. The auction ends in 2 minutes and it’s only a penny! Can I get it, please? I’ll give you the money for it! Please?”

It’s 6:30 in the morning. I heard “Fire! Come quick! You must give your username and password to extinguish so that you can go back to bed for 30 more minutes.”

I shuffle into the office. He pulls the seat out for me to sit down. He points to the computer. “Hurry, Mom! There’s not much time left.” Suddenly, I feel like I am stepping into a life saving operation.

I see Pokemon toys. They look harmless. I see $.01, I see “auction ends in 2 minutes, 19 seconds” and see the place bid button. I clicked on it.

I entered my username and password. I bid $.15…you know, just in case a sniper came in behind me at the last minute. (Even half asleep that auction demon comes out in me!) We’re the high bidder. I shuffle back to the bedroom and fall in the bed, glancing briefly at my clock to see that I still have 25 minutes of sleep.

Or so I thought… (more…)

No, I didn’t, but wouldn’t that make for an interesting story? I think this one ranks right up there though. One of the things that my best friend convinced me to try was dumpster diving. She was all into it. Found a message board online where people posted their finds, the best stores to try, the tools of the trade. So I went with her one night. I had a lot of fun and we found some great stuff (like, I will never have to buy greeting cards for any occasion ever again, and I don’t think I’ll have to purchase CDRs anytime soon either.)

On August 18, 1999, she called me up and said that she needed my help. Now, for someone who is as scatter brained as me you might be wondering why I can remember the exact date. Now with most of these stories, I couldn’t tell you the year, let alone the day, but this was a Wednesday and I remember it because it was my due date with Samara.

So, I’m nine months pregnant and Sondra calls me up and says, “There’s a desk at Office Max and I need some help getting it out.” Normal people would’ve replied, “Are you off your rocker?” but I simply said, (more…)