Are you my best friend?

Okay, I admit it, I'm a blog lurker.
I love pulling up bloglines and seeing all the new posts sitting there waiting for me to read them. And ok, I admit it, I rarely leave comments. It's stupid of me really because I LOVE it when others comment on my blog and it's not like I'm EVER without an opinion. But for some reason I rarely comment. Lately I've been reading them all on my phone, which does give me something of an excuse since it's so stinking annoying to leave a comment from my phone, but that has only been for the last month or so, so even though it's totally true it doesn't hold up too well. I mean I didn't do so well leaving comments BEFORE I switched to the phone reading.
As much as I get a thrill reading about everyone's lives it does have it's downsides too. I have very few close friends in real life. The list of people I could just pick up the phone and call to say "Hey, I'm bored lets go to the movies or something" is tiny. Of course even if the list was bigger the chances of actually getting to go to a movie when we all have kids that tie us to our houses is next to nothing, but that really isn't the point of this rambling post. Online however, I have SO many friends. Now they may not know they are my friend or anything, but they are.
There's one blog in particular that I love. It's not like she has sage advise or in depth discussions on the meaning of life or anything, she just talks about family and husbands and kids and stuff, but she does it in a way that is so stinking funny! I read her posts and laugh and think "man I wish I could write like that". Which stinks because she's not even trying to be an awesome writer, she just is one. I LOVE reading her blog.
So whats so bad about that right? Well I also know this woman in real life. Like know her name and see her around, but have never been to her home and I don't think she's ever been to mine. One of those kind of friends...an acquaintance. And yet due to reading her blog I've found myself walking up to her on multiple occasions and saying something quippy or interesting. I expect her to react to the awesome-ness that is me and we'll smile like best friends do with an inside joke, but that doesn't happen. Instead I get that look that you sometimes see women give other women. You know the one where they are thinking "How do you keep a crazy person calm, do you look at their eyes or look away?" I can totally tell that is what she's thinking as she laughs nervously shoving her kid behind her as she backs slowly away from me.
Why can't people realize they are simply my blog best friend? Of course if I try to explain to them that they are my best friend but don't know it they look at me like I'm even crazier, kinda like when I tell people I'm actually famous and no one has realized it yet.
Of course I keep reading blogs and holding out hope for all my blog best friends. But what do I know? I still think I'm famous and the world in general just hasn't figured it out yet. But they will, oh one day, they will.

Childhood fears never really go away completely.

When I was a kid I used to have a recurring dream everynight. A terrible scary dream that my husband never fails to tease me about. In it I climb out of bed in a nightgown. I am about four and I hate slipping my feet on the cold hard wood floor. Across from me the white curtains are billowing in the breeze at the window while flashes of lightning streak the sky behind them. The soft rumble of thunder seem louder in the quiet house as I tip toe toward the window. I mean simply to close the window and return to bed. A fear grips me as I get closer, hearing a slight rasping sound and feeling the soft wind on my cheek. I reach out to pull back the curtain and hesitate. My heart is beating in my chest. I need to close the window but I seem to be paralized with fear. Finally I call upon all the courage in my young body and thrust the curtain to the side.
Sitting on the window sill with his head cocked slightly to the side and that evil grin of his sits The Count, you know the one from Sesame Street. I know most people don't think The Count is scary. In fact many even find the guy cute! I however do not, have not, and probably never will. As far as Sesame Street goes he's the closest thing to a bad guy they've got and I've always been tuned to the good vs. bad idea of entertainment. I know you're thinking "what about the grouch?" but honestly I always thought he was harmless and kinda cute (that I'm sure would explain quite a few of my former relationships and their appeal to me should it be psychoanalyzed or something). However, back to the story, I would see The Count sitting there and he'd grin manically and say "One little girl, Ah ah ah." And I would wake screaming my head off every time. Often ending up in bed with my parents if I was brave enough to leave my bed to get to them through the dark hallways that is.
I mean seriously, he's a puppet made to resemble the Count of Dracula, and talks all spooky. Why wouldn't an impressionable child be scared of him? I started watching Sesame Street when I was like three or something and I've been scared of that dude for as long as I can remember. I know I should have stopped being scared of the dreams as I grew up, and even though it's true that they did lessen in frequency, they did not lessen in how terrifying they where. As a teen I did not run to my mommy in the night, but I did wake up in a sweat and have to calm down before going back to sleep.
Now I tell you all this to talk about last night.
Last night I was up late reading, really not a shocker since this is one of my new favorite things to do. I was glad I was reading too because a huge storm had rolled in and kept waking up Lola. I would by far rather get up to calm her when I'm already awake then be woken. I like me my sleep when I get around to it. Anyway I was laying there and had finished my fun light-hearted book that in no way resembles my actual life and took me away from adult cares for a few hours. I turned off my light and curled up under the covers. It was at this time that there was a flash of lightening and a surge of power that sent all our electric things wonky. They were all fine, but it startled me and forced me to look around a little. I am the curious type after all.
I glanced up at our window and noticed the curtains were moving. Not a lot but softly from the breeze the fan was making. Not a big deal right? Yet I felt a familur fear pull at my guts. Then a flash of lightning behind the curtains confirmed it. In that flash I saw all my old dreams cross my vision as I sat in my large bed with a sleeping husband and two kids sleeping in the other room. The eerie feeling of the loud quiet (I know that's weird to say, but you know when the quiet seems to be pressing on your ears until it's almost as loud to you as a scream? That's a loud quiet.) obvious as I stared transfixed at the softly floating curtains and the flashes of lightning behind. "Why, oh why, did I choose to put up white curtains?" I thought to myself as I shrunk farther away from them and closer to Jeff. I could feel my heart pounding and at any moment I knew that The Count would jump out and say "One freaked out woman. Ah ah ah." Or something.
Only of course he didn't. Because I am a grown woman and was sitting on my bed in my home with the alarm on and no reason for a quiet room to be freaking me out. Boy am I glad Jeff slept through that and I resisted the urge to wake him up. I so never would have heard the end of it.

Lake Huron beach

While on our trip we took a day to drive out to the beach. Lake Huron's beach in Alpena to be exact. We managed to convince the boys to skip fishing for an afternoon to go with us. I think the only Walmart in a 60 mile radius being in town might have had something to dow ith it.
The girls were upset we couldn't play in the sand or water (too cold!) but we had fun walking on the beach and checking out the pier.

Had to share....

Fishing trip

We are back in civilization. We just spent a week in Michigan with Jeff's family on a fishing trip. If you know me even a little you know I'm not too into fishing. However, both the girls and Jeff had a great time. Jeff caught a lot of fish,not as many as he'd like. The Iverson's stayed in their camper and we had a cabin (yep I wussed out and slept under a roof with a real bathroom). I'm glad we went, but boy am I tired!