...for a different kind of girl

silent surburban girl releasing her voice, not yet knowing what all she wants to say about her life and the things that make it spin. do you have to be 18 to be here? you'll know when i know.

Monday, January 28, 2008

i think we're alone now...and i don't dig it

My husband's job requires him to be out of town one or two nights a week, often just across the state. As I help him pare down his packing checklist (Clean underwear? Check. A pair of my underwear for doing goodness knows what? Check. Stuffed monkey? Check. Toothbrush and deodorant? Check.), I create my own list of activities to do while he's away because, honestly, I can't often do them when he's underfoot, begging me for sex or asking me what's for dinner.

These ideas include:
  • Falling into an orgasmic stupor on the couch while watching Mike Rowe and the eight hours of Dirty Jobs I have Tivo'd.
  • Getting my band, Penchant for Panties, together for an early evening jam and photo session to update our MySpace page.
  • Spiritual awakening.
  • Practicing my lap dance routine (note: working with major tools can make a man lonely for the touch of a woman).
  • Reading stacks of books I normally never touch because of all the wifely duties I'm performing during normal business hours.
  • Sitting around in my pajamas all day, watching VH1 Classics, carrying on sordid instant message conversations with strangers, and eating cereal for every meal.

I had to scratch that last item off my list when my husband graciously pointed out I sometimes do that even on the days he's around. Whatever. Geez. Like he's got a problem with me watching Winger videos and LOL'ing with strangers or something.

So, minus that last idea, I do try to find things to keep me busy when he's gone because, when it boils right down to it, I don't enjoy being home alone at night.

Because I'm a weenie ass.

"But you have two kids at home with you, Weenie Ass. You're not exactly home alone, you know."

I hear you, and thank you for reminding me. However, unless a potential home invader can be deterred by nonstop talk of all things Star Wars, Webkinz, basketball, and Hannah Montana, my personal safety and that of my two kids you reminded me of is pretty much screwed. The only chance I have of coming out of this type of scenario alive is if a 10 year old boy breaks in. And if that kid starts chanting, "One, two, Freddy's coming for you..." then screw it. I'm as good as freaked.

I'm good with being home alone up until the part where it gets dark outside. After I put the kids to bed, I come back downstairs to check and re-check the doors to make sure they're all locked, and peek out into the garage to ensure no one snuck in when we came home three hours earlier and is now laying in wait for the moment when they can tap me on the shoulder in the middle of the night and greet me with a hearty "I'm your boyfriend now, Nancy." Or a knife. Most likely a knife.

If the telephone rings, before saying "hello," I say a little prayer it's someone I know on the other end and not some breathy voiced ne'er do well telling me he wants to play a game or kindly suggesting I check the children. When the furnace kicks on and the house starts popping and creaking like an old man trying to roll his way out of bed in the morning, I'm prone to thoughts that involve Big Foot (just a little something rooted in childhood, if you have to know), and/or roving bands of hooligans trying to break into my house. God forbid I turn on the television to calm myself with some sitcom banter and come face to face with the mugshot of an escaped prisoner police are hunting down in a massive nationwide search. Because believe me, they may have escaped from Alaska, but I've little doubt in my stress-adled mind they've traveled undetected and are standing outside my little Midwest front door as the newscaster is telling me to consider my visitor armed and extremely dangerous.

My mother, who has lived alone for nearly 15 years, rolls her eyes and shakes her head when I tell her these fears. First, it takes me a moment to figure out if she's just rolling her eyes and shaking her head because that's pretty much how she communicates with me day to day, or because she believes I'm lame to think this way about being alone. She usually clears things up for me when she states, "You really think that? That of all the places a killer could go in this town, the first place they're gonna show up is your house? And by the way, you are aware we live in one of the safest, most crime free utopias known to man? Men who aren't killers?"

Fine. She's got me there. But tell that to Big Foot, or the shadow that looks like a hunchbacked, one armed, machete-wielding ogre, as it lumbers past my living room window, which is perfectly in line with where my head is, thus serving as bait. And make sure he grunts it to the person laying low under my minivan parked in the garage, who will in turn sneak into the house just as I drift off to sleep (a sleep wherein I pretend to already be dead to save a potential killer's time and me the pain of the inflicting death part). Tell them all that and maybe - MAYBE! - I'll feel better about being home alone at night. If she won't do that, I kindly ask her to leave her backdoor unlocked so we can take solace in her no crime zone of a house.

My husband leaves Monday morning for a week in Atlanta, so not only will I be alone for several nights, but now several states separate us in the event he must rush home and identify the bodies. I've known of this trip for months and have been bracing myself for them since, but now it's here and the furnace is popping and clanging.

At least, I'm hoping that's just the furnace. Because other than that, I think the only thing that may save me is my stellar ability to play dead. Just ask my husband when he comes home!

Labels:

19 Comments:

Blogger Phyllis RenĂ©e said...

I know. I KNOW! I hate being alone. When RL goes out of town it drives me crazy. Usually I just try to keep myself so busy that when I do go to bed I just pass out from exhaustion. Works for me. Well, that and the six foot pillow I sleep with.

Monday, January 28, 2008 6:15:00 AM  
Blogger Nanette said...

I know how they got in the garage! Remember that scene from Cape Fear where he grabs the axel and rides under the car! OMG, creepy! Make sure you hit all the potholes on your way home to free that sick twist from the bottom of your mini. Stupid game players!

So do you consider our conversations sordid? Hmmmm, sometimes they are Lois, sometimes they are.

noyrnmisdian

Monday, January 28, 2008 6:55:00 AM  
Blogger katie said...

too funny! my mom has lived alone for over 15 years as well, and when i tell her i an scared when my hubby is gone at nite, she laughs at me!! my own MA! laughing at her baby girl!!

anyways, u have a good one, different kinda gal!! :)

Monday, January 28, 2008 7:09:00 AM  
Blogger Bunny said...

We actually did have an escaped prisoner (county jail is about a mile from us) running loose in my neighborhood last summer. The police locked down the area (so my husband couldn't come home) and even searched my basement (Boy left the back door open). They found the guy in the rafters of a garage about 5 blocks away from me.

I think I'm moving back to Iowa, my birthplace. Much safer than Michigan.

Monday, January 28, 2008 7:34:00 AM  
Blogger Therese in Heaven said...

I used to get extreme anxiety when RS was out of town. We were newly married and living out in the country and he worked 2.5 hours away. I was always very much aware that if anything happened to me, it would be at least 2 and a half hours before he'd get to me. Sometimes I'd be so scared that I'd actually cry.

Moving to the city actually helped me significantly. I feel safer having a lot of people around.

I hope you have a good week. Maybe you could have your boys dress in super hero costumes to sleep in that way they'll scare away any late night prowlers. :)

Monday, January 28, 2008 8:50:00 AM  
Blogger FTN said...

Apparently all you women are complete weenies. Even when I'm staying out late and my wife is home in bed, I'll come home at 1 AM to find every light in the house on. Is that really necessary?

I just figured your Penchant for Panties bandmates would protect you while The Hubs is out of town... I'm picturing all of you passing out on the basement floor from too much of the dreaded coke and heroin.

Monday, January 28, 2008 9:18:00 AM  
Blogger Chag said...

I'm flying solo right now too! I'll make you a deal: you help me with dinner and baths, and I'll keep all the boogeymen away. Cool?

Monday, January 28, 2008 9:57:00 AM  
Blogger Mandy Lou said...

I love it when Scott's gone - until the sun goes down, then I'm totally freaked out! When we lived in an apartment I never cared, I figured someone would hear me screaming and hopefully come help, but out here in the sticks it can be a bit scary! I'd say the dog makes me feel better, but that's just foolish, some maniac could come into the house and she'd be like "as long as you don't take my bone, I'm cool".

Monday, January 28, 2008 2:13:00 PM  
Blogger Desmond Jones said...

Hmph. Geez, when I have some trip to go on, Molly's all, 'Woohoo! The things I can do while you're gone!'

And listen, I don't want to get all inappropriate, or anything, but don't you have a dolphin, or somesuch critter, to keep you company? Or do I misunderstand you on that? . . .

Monday, January 28, 2008 3:25:00 PM  
Blogger Michael said...

Sounds like the perfect time to host a tazer party... just think all the fun you could have with your own tazer. I mean, how often do you run into an annoying person during the course of a normal day and think, "If only I had a tazer with me?"

Monday, January 28, 2008 5:06:00 PM  
Blogger kimmyk said...

omg. when i am alone, i am my own worst enemy. i do not care if the electric bill goes through the roof, the lights are glowin' all night long.

i use to make my kids sleep with me and we'd lock the bedroom door...and i'd sleep with phones in the bed..under the pillow.

i hate when freddy says that to nancy...get over yourself freddy.

Monday, January 28, 2008 6:39:00 PM  
Blogger Bee said...

The husband went away for the weekend and I didn't go to sleep until the sun came up.
It worked out well.
A few weeks later I found a metal claw and scratches under my bed!!!
AAAAAHHHHHH!!!
Just kidding, I found the hammer I'd put under the bed when he was gone.
;o)

Monday, January 28, 2008 8:52:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Phyllis - Oh, I do the very same thing! I turn the husband's pillows vertically and then it's sort of like he's there, and my view is blocked, preventing me from clearly identifying any potential attacker(s)!

Nan - GAH!!! OMG!! I forgot about that axle ride, but I'll have you know I spent all freakin' day thinking about it!!!

I trust our sordid chats will take my mind off it for just awhile. Giggity giggity!

Katie - I tell my mom to just wait! Just wait! One day I'll be all "I told you so!" to her. Hopefully not because some axel riding freak snuck in my garage, though!

Bunny - There's only a county jail near me, and of late, the employees there have been riddled with criminal activity, so really, I'm a bit concerned I'm actually fearful of the people meant to protect me!

Therese - Tonight, my oldest went to bed shielded in dinosaur pajamas, the youngest in skull and crossbones. They are bad ass, so for now, at least for this moment, I feel safe. I hope it lasts, because I'm pretty sure even if my neighbors heard me scream, they'd ignore it.

FTN - We all just want big strong men like you coming home to protect us. That is why we're all weenie girls.

However, saying that makes it all sound so very, very different.

Chag - That sounds like a perfect plan! I'm in. How's meatloaf and baked potatoes sound for dinner tomorrow?

Mandy - I don't know why I've settled into this mindset when I'm home alone overnight. I lived alone for five years and relished it. I suppose I could chalk it up to the gunshots, window peepers and obscene callers who made my last year of solo living a real treat!

Desmond - Oh, believe me, there is a lot of that cheering and such going on when he goes out of town. I always have truly productive plans. But then, it's sundown, and I get all "lost boys" in my head.

And yep, I got critters, but one must pace themselves with critters of all types. And truly, if I turned to them constantly, well, I'd ruin myself for the husband upon his return!

Michael - The tazer party idea sounds perfect! Until I can organize one, though, I wonder if the Nerf dart tag game I have will be a suitable alternative?

kimmyk - It's at times like this that I say "Thank you, budget billing!" I've slept with all the lights on. I've slept with a radio on so there'd be soothing voices. I've slept with my ears plugged so I wouldn't hear anyone or anything approaching. We should slumber party. I'm serious! Because tonight? Yeah, the boys thought it would be fun to tell me about made up monster stories and tales of break ins. I mean, seriously!!

And I agree about that whole "freddy/nancy" thing, because gah! It gets so worse when freddy's all "tell me you love me, nancy. come on. say it." Loser.

Bee - AHHH!! Bee!! You're killing me!

I mean, you're not *really* killing me, and I'm sure you don't really have a plan to do so while I sleep, but gah! You had to go there with the metal claw and scratches under the bed?! Add to my list of things to do to ensure my safety? Check closets and under all beds. Sigh...

Monday, January 28, 2008 10:38:00 PM  
Blogger you da mom! said...

i know what you mean. it is the same as being alone, even with kids there. it's like being a single parent. hence...alone!

Tuesday, January 29, 2008 3:22:00 PM  
Blogger Melissa said...

Keep it together, Nancy. You can do it!

Tuesday, January 29, 2008 6:55:00 PM  
Blogger Kelly said...

My husband just got on a plane for a business trip several states away, and we won't be seeing him again for four or five weeks. So honey, I feel your pain. However, I'm too big a wimp to watch all those horror movies, so at least I don't have those specific terrors to deal with. And having a dog around helps. Oh, and my brother, sleeping on the couch most nights to help out. But still. It totally sucks.

When you get tired of the VH1, check this out.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008 8:45:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

you da mom! - The good part is my alone ends tonight!

Melissa - Ha! The good thing is I've actually slept these past few nights, despite the noises in the house and the creepy guy with claw hands walking around!

Kelly - Four or five weeks!? Gah! I have no business freaking about three or four days a week! However, on those nights, I will be spending some time at the link you sent! Good luck to you and the girls!!

Thursday, January 31, 2008 9:28:00 AM  
Blogger justlori2day said...

Ga.rate! I read this on the one night this week I am home alone! I will often - against my better judgement - have the kids sleep with me when Jim is gone. You know, for protection. Really its so I dont get up with every creak of the floor to discover it is one of them sneaking off somewhere with a "snack"! Of course the cats always find a way to rile the dog and all the hidden creatures of the night on the ONE night that I am home alone.

I leave lights on all over the house. Im a wimp. And proud of it.

What was that noise? I hear chainsaws...

Wednesday, February 06, 2008 8:26:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

justlori2day - See, when I hear the chainsaws, I plug my ear with the sheet and press my other ear way down into the pillow. Then everything is muted! File that tip away!

Thursday, February 07, 2008 8:20:00 AM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home