Musician's Widow

I’m being one of THOSE people today. You know the kind. Those people who go to a coffee shop with their laptops, sit in the corner, and type furiously. The ones you wonder if they are writing about you or a term paper. Why do they have to do that in public? How… pretentious!

Well, first off, I AM writing about you. (I’ll get to that in a minute.) Second of all, its not pretentious, its just me needing to get out of the house! Yes, I could do this from home. I have been for the last week! But its lonely at home. My cat does not hold conversations very well. And, seriously, as much as I love my house… I can’t handle being in it almost non-stop for seven days.

See, my husband in right in the middle of a two-week run to the west-coast. And I am just WAY out of practice of his being gone so long. I’m used to a maximum of maybe four days out, then home for at least a day or two.  Not this run. Two weeks solid. And talking on the phone only gets me so far in the sanity department.

I’ve wanted to come down to Starbucks for awhile now. It’s kind of a no-brainer. Its barely three miles from my house, in fact. But I just couldn’t justify the cost. I have coffee at home. I have internet at home. I even had cupcake mixes at home!  But, you see in that picture above, the card? Yeah, that card pretty much gave me back some of my sanity. My cousin sent me that with a little treat inside that resulted in my gleefully hitting Starbucks today for a Grande Vanille Latte and a big, fat slice of banana walnut bread. So. Very. Yum.

So here I am, right in the corner of my local Starbucks, sipping my latte, people-watching and eavesdropping.

My favorite thus far has to be the guy who, for what ever reason, had to sit at the table right beside mine. Even though there were probably 15 empty tables in the building. And he’s not having anything. He’s just sitting at the table, playing with his phone. Interesting. Seems to be a soldier, in full army fatigues. Maybe he’s waiting for someone to end their shift. Or maybe he’s waiting to meet someone. Who knows. But he proceeded for have a ten minute conversation on his phone in which he kept saying, “Oh, she went home already? Are you sure she went home already? That’s what she said, she went home already?” After about the eighth time of this, I almost looked over and went, “Look! She went home already! Deal with it!” But, you know, I thought that might be a little rude. So I didn’t.

Another fun one has to be the girl on crutches whose friends didn’t bother to get up and get her coffee order for her. They watched her struggle to get up, then once she did went, “Oh I guess I could have gotten that for you.”  *facepalms* Teens.

My final favorite was watching a lady come in, order a drink, then sit down and proceed to pay her bills. Then for each bill she paid, she’d rip the statement in half and throw it away. Don’t get me wrong, but that doesn’t seem like the safest way to protect yourself from identity theft. But, hey, maybe Starbucks trash cans have some sort of super-sonic-bill-destroyer-system in them.

Or maybe not.

This, folks, this is what that “pretentious person with laptop at the coffee shop” wonders. That’s deep, man. Deep.

Periodically, my husband and I have had troubles with our air conditioning duct work staying in tact. This summer, the heat has really wrought havoc on them. It seems at least once a week, we’ll realize one of our vents is blowing hot air, which means going up into the attic, reattaching the duct to the unit, and then duct taping like crazy. No need to cool the attic!

So last night, my husband decided to look over the duct work before he left out on the road. As he went to the attic, I bit back, “Don’t fall through the ceiling!” I figured it would be both a funny joke, but also a terrible jinx on him. So instead, I started vacuuming the living room.

I heard a bit thud from above, but I figured he was probably just moving the ladder and I paid it no mind. My parents are visiting for the week, and my mom happened to go to the guest bathroom. She called at me and motioned for me to come over. So I turned off the vacuum and went over.

“Look!” she said.

I opened the door, looked up and saw… a leg.

Immediately I went, “Are you okay!?” and started pushing up on the bottom of my husband’s foot which had, yes, come through the ceiling in the bathroom. Insulation all around on the floor, I didn’t know if I should be scared or start to laugh. Upon confirmation that my husband was indeed okay, I couldn’t help but start to laugh at the situation.

My husband’s pride was wounded and, of course, concern over having to have it fixed settled into the equation. But ultimately, it lead us to a lot of laughs — as well as a series of hilarious comments on his Facebook status update for last night. Everything from “Money Pit” references to requests for pictures.

Sadly, no, I don’t have any pictures of our temporary leg light fixture (I was too shocked to think to grab my camera, not to mention worried that my husband was seriously hurt!), and at the moment the hole is covered by a square of cardboard my dad helped us put up. We’ll get the ceiling fixed soon, and it’ll give us an excuse to slap a new coat of paint on the room. Looking on the bright side of things, you know.

However, today’s topic of conversation has consistently come around to the previous night’s adventure in ceiling destruction. Come to find out, a LOT of people have similar stories! So here I am to ask: Anyone else out there have falling-through-the-ceiling stories to share??

School supplies are already out in the stores as students and parents begin gearing up for the next school year.

I am 11 years out of high school, and 7 years out of college, and I still LOVE new school supplies. Brand new spiral notebooks. Packs of pens. Crayon boxes. Folders with fun designs on the front. 200-sheet packs of lined notebook paper.

I repeat, I LOVE new school supplies.

Last night, I found myself poking around Target and their back to school section. I couldn’t resist grabbing crayons, markers, and spiral notebooks. (They were on sale!) I poked around the shelves full of folders, paper, dictionaries, and globes. I found myself musing over all the cute little desk organizers, trying to remind myself I didn’t need anything.

Memories of new school years came back to me. How I’d fill a three-ring binder with notebook paper, and I’d itch to write my name on a sheet of paper. Organizers for my assignments would have name, address, etc. filled out weeks before the first school bell rang. I liked school, but I liked new supplies 1000x more. It was like literally being handed a clean slate for the new year.

Today, its not “school supplies” but “office supplies.” Post it notes, printer ink, and staples just aren’t as much fun as three ring binders, erasers, and graph paper. So, I find ways to justify my visits to the back to school supply sales.

Coloring is a great way to relieve stress, but I also happen to really like making my own cards and wrapping paper. If I am shipping a gift to someone, because I can’t be there, it lets me make sure it is a lot more personal! So, I always keep boxes of crayons and markers on hand. (Stickers and glitter, too!)

Spiral notebooks are the best way to jot down ideas for blog posts or to keep to do lists. Unfortunately, with all my husband’s traveling, I am never short of ballpoint pens. He brings home plenty from hotels around the country!

I still carry my backpack from college as my carry-on on flights. I’ve read many articles on how you should present yourself professionally at all times; you never know who you might run into and when. A backpack just doesn’t look professional. But its SO handy and carries everything I need with ease, so I don’t care decide to go with usability over presentation. Plus, there’s the odd comfort level there with it. Its almost like a safety blanket that carries my laptop, magazines and some snacks.

I know its not necessarily rational, but I really do love school supply shopping. Maybe its some strange way of holding on to my youth. When we have kids, they’ll probably end up hating school supply shopping simply because I’ll end up embarrassing them. I’ll be that mom going, “Ooooh!” and grabbing glue, pencil bags, and note cards like it’s a shoe store with a sale on high heels. I’m weird that way.

I can’t wait!