Well of course THIS happened

Funny story for a Wednesday, hold on to your biscuits....

No, really.  Hold on and don't ever let go.

Soooooo, remember when I was whining about losing my wallet at Coldstone last week and how could someone just take it and ohmigosh I have to replace everything blah blah blah?

Aaaaannnd, remember how I created this huge fiasco by not having the identification that was in said wallet for the closing on my house, sending me in every which direction to resolve said fiasco all while clutching a bathroom trash can turned puke bucket?

Weeeeelllllll, I found it on Friday.  Actually Corey found it stuffed way down deep in the cushion of our recliner.  I must have sat there while eating my ice cream, focused entirely on the Founder's Favorite (srsly, they don't call it the "favorite" for nothing) I didn't notice I even had my wallet, let alone that my hiney was slowly shoving it into the nether regions of our chair.

Whoopsies!

My first reaction upon finding it

Yay! Garage sale money is back!

My second reaction

Yay! Coffee club cards are back!

My third reaction

Dang, I already canceled my credit cards, and replaced my license.

My fourth reaction

Ooooo, I have two licenses now. I wonder if I can sell one....


My fifth reaction

Uh oh, I think I just added material to my FBI file.


My sixth reaction

Better call the Coldstone corporate office back and apologize for calling them "clowns."

Buuuuuutt by the end of the day after all that reacting I was hungry so I patronized Coldstone's competitor, Plum Dandy.  Twice.

The end.

Neon mom jeans, for today's hip ladies!

Let's go a little off topic for a sec, gang.

Not like there is ever an on-going theme here.

Unless you call "endlessly random" a theme.  That's the whimsy in me.  They don't call me The Whimsical Crafter for nothing, am I right or am I right or am I right?!

Oh, and by "they" I do mean myself.

So here we are, already off the topic I was hoping to be off topic....about.

And that topic: how old is too old to wear neon.

As in the neon that all the kids are wearing these days.

I guess we could turn this into a discussion on any trend that's out there now.  Like what is the age limit on calling your fellow man "bro?" or when should one stop wearing gladiator sandals?

Because I know for us gals we're sensitive to how we appear to others. At any age.  And we especially don't want to look like we're trying too hard.

Me at the make-up counter at Macy's: "I want you to pile all that crap on my face but for goodness sake make it look natural!"

So setting an exact age where you officially go from skinny jeans to mom jeans and from trendy printed tees to Hanes Her Way would be helpful when asking oneself "should I be wearing this??" while pulling on floral print pants very similar to the ones you remember wearing on your first day of third grade.

Hypothetically, of course.

But no, no, no.  I am not having that discussion now.

No I just want to know about neon now.

This neon.

I went running shoe shopping Sunday and what I found was an entire wall of neon shoes in every color combination possible, and then off to the side were two or three plain white pairs with blue and purple stripes on a table with packages of socks.

Hmmmm, I think what they're trying to say right now is that bright colors are a thing.

So I bought a pair.  And they are shockingly bright

I remember wearing neon in elementary school, gang.  I specifically remember my favorite sweater, it was black with hot pink and yellow stripes.  And I also remember laughing at how ridiculous this stuff was years later when we were all wearing forrest greens and maroons and tying flannel shirts around our waists.

Please, oh please, don't let grunge come back...

So I guess what I'm wondering is if I can remember the inception of this style does that mean I'm too old to be sporting it the second time 'round?

What if I pair these bad boys with the yoga pants that fit just above my belly-button, does that help or hurt my chances of fitting in??

Luckily, these aren't my "everyday" shoes and will most likely only be worn to jog around the park at times when I will see the least amount of people on account of an awkward running style that may or may not have been compared to that of a duck during my high school track days.  I don't want to talk about it.

But, I do have this same color in a nail polish and that would go with me everywhere, so please, your opinion is strongly requested.

...as long as your opinion is that I can totally pull off neon because I don't think Dick's will return shoes with traces of duck poo.  You just had to "break them in" in the park, didn't you Stace?!

Thanksomuch.

A tale of theft, vomit and the Department of Motor Vehicles

Oh. My.

Run away, friends.  Run far, far away.

I'm afraid my streak of bad luck has reached its peak and who knows who will next be snared in it's gnarly claws of doom!!!

Save yourselves!!

Pure Luck: the Stacie Lucas story

I'm writing this as a weekend update, even though the weekend is far from over and we'll be hitting another one before I'm even ready.

I only just this morning felt well enough to go to work after a stomach bug hit me Sunday and left me flat on my back, unable to stand for even thirty seconds without severe stomach pains.  So here I am, on Wednesday, feeling like it's Monday, trying to get my whole self used to the fact that it is hump day and tomorrow will be the day before the day before the weekend, and....no, you're right, that really isn't too big of a hassle.

So before I ramble any further about something that has nothing to do with anything...

***

Corey and I have been in the process of buying a townhouse since late February.  As most homeowners know, these things take awhile.  You know, with the bank stuff and the title stuff and insurance and blah, blah, blah.  As most homeowners who are married to me now know, when I'm involved the whole process is excruciating.

Where art thou, Lady Luck?!

"They're not all like this," our realtor explained.  "This is the worst I've ever seen."

Great.  I'll try to remember that when I never, ever move ever again.

Our closing was scheduled for this past Monday afternoon.  It was originally set for early April but with so many additional requirements and lost (but later found!) paperwork we were relieved last week to finally have a set date to own our home! 

Everything was finally going to be over!  And done!  And we could pop champagne!  And potty in our new toilets!

Oh, ho, ho naive little ones...

This girl had to lose her wallet on Saturday.  Wait, no, I set it down at Coldstone Creamery and then someone swiped it.  But in my defense, I had to carry my ice cream aaaaand Corey's milkshake.  My subconscious made the difficult decision: dessert comes first, wallet must wait. 

I had money in my wallet, and credit cards, and my work ID, and my driver's license.  Annoying.  So, so annoying.  I canceled my credit cards right away.  And I fumed about losing my weekend garage sale money on a day when there was a ten family sale down the street.  Ten families, I said!! 

My coffee club cards were in there too, and I was this close to getting a free coffee any size at Coffee Planet.  I had big plans for that free coffee, a java chip frappe.  A frappe I said!!

Sigh.

So, my driver's license was gone.  And being a first time home-buyer I didn't know the bank would like to see it and verify I am who I say I am before handing over my house.  Imagine that.  So there I sat Monday morning in my jammies, immersed in Lifetime movies and a heating pad with nothing left in my stomach to, um, expel when I got the call from Corey.

Hey, you're gonna need your license...

Uh oh.

The next two hours was a blur of yelling, rummaging, running up and down stairs, sobbing at the DMV, and lots and lots of gagging and body cramps.

Go get a temporary license from DMV....see if they'll print a picture on the temporary,be really nice....wait, let's look for your passport....where's your passport?.....I think it's at my mom's house....call your mom.....mom can you look through my stuff?.....wait I found it....don't worry, mom, we found it, p.s. sorry you're sick too....oh no it's expired!....can we use it anyway?....no? CRAP....ok, go get your license....ok, I need to take a puke bucket....wait do you have your Purdue ID?.....at my mom's house....call your mom....mom can you look through my stuff?.....no time, go to the DMV and get your license....mom, forget about it p.s. sorry to make you almost throw up climbing up the stairs to look through my stuff....ok, where's my puke bucket? can you get me some water for the road?....is this the right application?.....yes.....my (sob, sob) wallet was (sob) stolen and I'm supposed to (sob, sob, sob, sniffle) close on my house in forty-five minutes!!....here ya go hon'....that's it?!.....that's it....Corey I got it....that's it?....yep, that's it....ok, um, you gonna take a shower?....yes....ok hurry.

I call that the Reader's Digest version.

We get to the closing four minutes late with my birth certificate to prove the picture on my expired passport is really me, my marriage license to prove the person on my passport and birth certificate is the new, married me, my Social Security card to show I'm documented, and my temporary driver's license just for the hell of it.  We crossed our fingers.

In the end the bank could not have cared less.  I'm sure they would have taken a kindergarten self-portrait.

Of course.

Of course!

***

So that, my friends, is the recent installation to the story of my no good, very bad luck.

It was nice knowing you, now run for the hills before I cause generations of early onset baldness or an outbreak of feline AIDS in your subdivision.