i am recovering today after being swatted in the face with a dish towel with the force of a thousand horses.

did i mention by my husband.

yes, please it is time to call the authorities, i am pretty sure he is out to get me.

it all started sunday evening. i was greatly involved in the bbc series north and south when my husband came in from taking our fatty bulldog out for a potty break. unfortunately they didn’t come alone, soon joining our series experience was a big black fly.

now as some of you know we live in a 300 square foot apartment, and a fly just feels like an extra unwanted guest. so i said to andrew, “can you please get rid of the fly for me.”

some how andrew and i always come up without the essential tools that my parents always seem to have. like a fly swatter. i am not sure if  you just slowly accumulate these things over the years, or if we should have added them to our wedding registry.

regardless, in comes andrew holding one of our dish towels. i said quickly to him, “you have got to be kidding me.” and he said, “trust me, this will work.”

andrew is a very focused type of person, and when he narrows in on something he tends to lose the rest of the picture somewhere a long the line – like lets say…my face.

so as i was sitting there deeply engrossed in my romantic north and south – i guess the fly must have passed by my head, because the next thing i know it felt like lightening slapping me right in the face.

i seriously crumpled over, and started to cry because it had just shocked me so bad.

andrew ran to my side and was just saying over and over again, “oh my goodness oh my goodness tiffany, i am so sorry, i didn’t realize it would hit you, i am so sorry, oh tiffany.”

once i had determined my nose wasn’t broken and my eyeball wasn’t hanging out of my socket, i began to laugh.

andrew had brought me ice, and his face was so painfully sorry that even my laughter didn’t seem to ease how terrible he felt.

the rest of the night i had a HUGE red streak all the the way across the right side of my face, and this morning my eye is still pretty fuzzy.

andrew said that he had seen it a little from the corner of his eye, he said, “oh tiffany it was terrible, you were just sitting there smiling at sleeping addis next to you, and the next thing i new you were down for the count.”

so this is marriage my friends.

at least this is MY marriage.

this is for sure a classic tiffany and andrew moment.

one in which i plan to use to my advantage as much as possible.

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friends – yesterday could have started off better.

as my husband and i were getting ready to go for a little drive. i noticed all this bird poop on my side of the car’s window. i made a horrible face and said ewww…quite dramatically.

then i heard my husband say, “tiffany he can see you.”

and i said, “what?” to then have my eyes focus in and realize i was looking right into my neighbors porch window – who was standing up without his shirt on.

i began frantically pointing at the bird poop, and as my husband drove away a muffled, “noooooo, i was looking at the bird poop,” could be heard.

alas – i really shouldn’t be allowed outside.

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i might make this a new blog series that i write about from time to time. but it truly is uniquely its own. and i am sure there are plenty of people that are not adventist, but can relate to going to small private schools.

it is one thing to watch napoleon dynamite and just find it to be a quirky off beat comedy, it’s another to watch it and relate to it. and trust me when i say, i would not have had it any other way.

last night i was thinking about high school and those years i spent in choir. i just started to laugh and laugh about the experiences that came from that. one in which i plan to tell you now.

you see when you go to a small private school and sing in a choir – crazy things happen. one of which your school decides that a small choir should still travel around and sing at churches and events and that it is a requirement to go, but on extremely low budgets. which means you end up staying with random families or sleeping on gymnasium floors.

oh the stories that will come from that. but i would like to focus on a time in which our small choir decided to do a choir retreat. to get better at our vocals and learn how to sing as one – so to speak.

on this particular retreat there were two options in which you were divided up. i have my suspicions to why i ended up where i did, but i will leave it at that. there was option 1: condo’s and there was option 2: this lovely motel called the hojo inn. and once the condo’s were full, whoever was left got to go to the hojo.

and just try to guess where i ended up getting to go? was it bright, airy with tennis courts?  no. it was option number 2 where your doors were facing outside, someone had robbed the vending machines which where chained to the wall, and random blood stains encouraged a safe night sleep.

luckily i was with my accomplice in crime – jj. we immediately took in our surroundings, began laughing and asking if calling 911 would just be a safer route to start off with rather than end with? entering our motel room, we found bugs in our shower, lumpy beds, and the ever so present existence of muggy cigarette smoke. it was late, we were hungry and decided to order a pizza – which arrived 2 hours later cold and soggy.

i had no idea how i would sleep that night, but jj and i managed to close our eyes with prayers to God for survival, and just laughing so hard tears were running down our faces.

i must have fallen asleep because it wasn’t until 3 a.m. that i heard it. the voice of God you ask?

no, a drunk woman singing “i believe i can fly” at the top of her lungs, in the room next door to us.

jj and i began laughing, and instead of just trying to fall back to sleep we began singing back up at the top of our lungs.

eventually we all finished with a harmonic ending. and that was it.

we all fell back to sleep.

in the morning we were starving, and had been told breakfast was being served at the condo’s. so we got on the bus with the other unfortunate choir kids that had to stay at the motel, and headed back to the condo.

we could smell waffles with syrup and veggie links cooking, and jj and i began to run to the condo door. we busted through to only see everyone cleaning up.

all that was left was a plate of soggy scrambled eggs dripping through a paper plate. we passed.

the rest of the food had been eaten swiftly by the condo choir kids.

i suppose after their morning tennis game quite the appetite had built.

unlike jj and i, who had spent the early morning hours performing with a drunk lady.

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