Now that I’ve been blogging for 6 months, I can let you in on a little secret – turns out there’s a big advantage to it that I hadn’t realized when I got started. You get to “meet” some really great people.
One of those really great people just so happens to be my new cyber-friend Monique, from A Day in the Life of a SurferWife. I look forward to her posts, and her comments on mine, because she always makes me laugh. We have many things in common but at the same time, she’s also my opposite. The anti-me. And today you get to meet her because we’re blog-swapping! She’s going to be posting here, and I’m going to hang out at her place. Which, by the way, happens to be in San Diego. I may not come back.
A little SurferWife/Only Girl comparison:
- She lives in sunny San Diego. That’s in California – where I should be. Instead, I’m stuck here in cold, boring Ontario.
- She’s currently training for a triathalon. I am not.
- Her husband is a surfer. Mine plays soccer, hockey and golf.
- We both have 2 children, but one of her’s is female. Neither of mine are.
- She has granite counters in her kitchen and a fab inground pool. I have laminate and an above-ground (so not fair)
- She has met MANY celebrities. I’m obsessed with celebrities, but never actually meet any (see point # 1)
Monique does a great feature every Friday called “Happy Hour and a Celebrity Encounter” in which she re-tells the tales of her many celebrity encounters, then rates them on her super fancy Margarita Barometer (my fav so far being the story of John Cleese).
She recently had some good fun with a poor telephone interviewer regarding her new life insurance policy and she just broke up with her car. I know – she’s FULL of the crazy! That’s why I love her.
Although she’s currently in some very intense training for a triathlon (which you can follow along with on her second blog SurferWife’s Guide to Triathlon), she recently sustained a nasty forearm injury – as the result of a Wii game. See? That’s why I’m so against exercise – it can HURT you!
So please put your hands together and welcome Surferwife to the stage!
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My name is SurferWife and I hate racoons
I need to hurry up and type this story out because i can’t handle this monster threatening to eat my face off. A little background first.
When I was about 22 years old I was held prisoner in my own home by these A-Holes. I had come home from work and noticed my neighbor had left me a bag of cat food on my door step. She was a vet tech and did this often. Since my hands were full, I left it outside. I was planning on heading out about 7 or 8 to meet some friends for a few drinks and I would grab it then and bring it in.
At about 6:30, I heard some noise outside my front door in my patio. Thinking it was my one outdoor cat (I had an indoor scaredy cat and a super macho outdoor cat), Vixen, I open the door to let him in. Instead of my sweet Vix, I am greeted by three of the scariest faces I have ever seen.
Oh God. I am getting lightheaded revisiting this memory.
As I scream and slam the door, it clunks one in the head that was TRYING TO COME IN AND EAT ME. He was well over thirty pounds, and he TOLD ME that he was going to rip my face off and eat it. He did. End of story.
Anyhow, the three monstrosities had ripped the bag of cat food open and were enjoying an eating frenzy. Meanwhile, scaredy cat Beemer is cowering under the bed and come to find Vixen was already inside and he was pissed off. He would run head first into the glass sliding door, hoping to attack the trespassers. They in turn snarled at Vixen and I pretty much took to fetal position on my living room floor. My upstairs neighbor heard the commotion and called me. As I bawled my eyes out that my life was flashing before my eyes and I had to meet friends for drinks, he said he would distract them for me and I could sneak out.
Sure enough, he went outside and made some noise which thankfully made the mass murderers climb the tree to go eat HIS face off. I ran like the wind out the door and to my car. And proceeded to celebrate the rebirth of my life with a lot of Jaegar Bombs and Coors Light. Hey, I was 22, waiting tables and living in Santa Barbara. That’s what you do in your free time.
Fast forward to last Friday night about 5pm. I hear Bob pull into the driveway and my cell phone rings. I answer to a suspiciously whispering husband telling me to send Jason out. I ask what for and he repeats himself adding for me to stay inside. Uhhh. Yeah. Pretty much the only thing he wouldn’t want me to see is a raccoon. As I flip out saying, ‘Jason will be eaten alive if a raccoon spots him’, my near 8 year old charges out the door saying, ‘I want to see it!’
I grab Haley, head outside and see the overly plump masked freakazoid and nearly pass out. He was standing in our neighbor’s yard staring down my husband who was attempting to stare back. Jason is in awe at ‘how cool’ the raccoon is and Haley is frantically asking to head back indoors. Smart. She gets that from her mama.
Bob, offering to show his big manly skills, says how he is going to scare the furry devil away. He jumps quickly toward the beast who doesn’t move a muscle but continues to stare. Bob makes a ’scary’ noise and I can almost hear the raccoon snicker in disgust.
I flee the scene knowing that at least I can save myself and my baby girl. The ‘men’ in the family can kiss their faces goodbye. They have to have to learn their own lesson. And I need to return to fetal position. Or a Jaegar Bomb. Not sure which works better.
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Now be a good bloggy and go check out her site. Tell her I sent you. She’s promised me gum, tictacs and some other uninteresting stuff.
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