This weekend I stayed with Mom at the house while Josh was out of town. I know I’m still a newlywed when the strangest part about being back at the childhood home is that it didn’t seem that strange. Mom and I were about to watch one of our favorite girlie movies (Amelie) when Mom said, “It sure is weird not to have Josh around.”
I responded, “Really? To me, it feels kinda normal.”
Pause. “Yeah, I thought so too, but I thought that would be mean to say.”

Not that I have any desire to erase the last few months- which have been amazing and fun and I absolutely love being married to Josh. It’s just that I haven’t been married long enough that I feel out of place at home. Of course, maybe that’s part of having a wonderful mom who always makes you feel welcome.

Oh, and I got to experience one of the last milestones that mark my transition into married life today. I went to get some pants hemmed (six inches needed to be hacked off) and another customer said he recognized me. We figured out that we both had gone to Northpoint and to UGA. He remembered my first name was Lauren (and thought my last name was Pemali- is that Indian?) and I was able to say, “Yeah, I used to be Lauren Petrella, but it’s Teague now.”

Sup.

Well, as much as we love using all of Tiffany’s furniture around here, we’re breaking down and realizing that we’re gonna need to buy some of this stuff at some point in time. So, first thing’s first: We could use a nice big, comfy couch. We’re in the preliminary stages, I guess, of looking . . . and then today I came across this one: Oh my goodness.

The designer simply went mad with this one. I have the feeling that whoever designed this couch saw that his/her career was shifting dramatically and must have wanted to make one final impact in the design community. So here’s to you: nasty couch designer.

The unfortunate thing is that this furniture blog sees this as a “beautiful sofa set.” Someone is definitely trying to pull a fast one.

Any good couch buying tips out there?

Last week, Josh and I were initiated into the adults club. We were invited to have dinner at the home of the Hebdons, friends of the Teague family. There were two tables- the kitchen table set for the kids, and the ADULT table in the dining room. Guess which one we got to sit in?

I think the only thing sadder than being excited to sit at the “big people table” was the moment when the kids asked each other if they wanted to go outside. My first first thought was that I didn’t really want to go outside. My second thought was that a sort of inner humiliation for omitting the past ten years.
The dining experience was very fun and enjoyable, even if it felt a little strange to see the kids’ table from where we were sitting. Josh and I talked on the way home about how it didn’t seem that long ago that we were considered kids.

The evening must have left a strong impression on Josh. I woke up around 4 AM that morning to listen to a five minute speech he gave in his sleep to thank the Hebdons for inviting us over. At first I was amused as I listened to him recap our previous conversation to Mr. Hebdon about the kids vs. adult table concept. But he was really grateful. I finally had to interrupt him. His argument: “I knew I was talking in my sleep, but I needed to finish in case he really was in the room.”

Bonus Josh-Does-Weird-Stuff-in-His-Sleep-Story:
The other night, Josh tried to fix the bedposts (no, they’re not broken), turned on the lights, and sat on the end of the bed playing air guitar.

Hmm….we finally got caught. T-Mobile.

Our side of the story:
Last night, we were on speaker phone with customer service for an hour and twenty minutes. During which we tried to explain that we wanted to transfer Lauren’s phone line to Josh’s family plan. After much discussion of fees, cancellations, etc, we finally asked to speak to a supervisor. The supervisor got on the phone, seemed to be on board with what we were saying and agreed to waive the cancellation fee that would have been unfairly applied to our situation. He then “put us on hold” as he went to find someone to double check the situation with. We talk and laugh over how ridiculous the entire process had been and felt relieved that someone was finally on our side who could do something to help.
The supervisor got back on the line, asked several accusing question, said he felt “some things were being hidden,” accused us of “trying to scam T-Mobile” (for what? a continued contract? please? we’re sorry!), that he “heard the WHOLE CONVERSATION” (while we were ‘on hold’), that he could “HEAR US LAUGHING AND GIGGLING” and “WE DON’T TALK TO PEOPLE TRYING TO SCAM US,” and then hung up on us after scraping every last bit of dignity from the interaction. But don’t worry, he did wish us a “good evening” as his last remark, so that made us feel better.

Their side of the story:
They finally put a stop to one of many scams going on around the country, bilking T-Mobile for free phones, contracts, and unlimited use of their phone space which we did not pay for.
Or something. We actually have no idea what their side of the story is. All we know is that we are highly offended and a bit dumbfounded because despite what others may suspect, we actually don’t scam all that often.

Yes, yes, I googled my own name. We’ve all done it. But this time I had a really good reason. One rationale behind why I haven’t been posting as much- or at all- is not because I don’t still embarrass myself. It’s because now I’m past dealing with postal workers and paint salesmen. Now we’re talking about innocent children. And as much as I want to share stories, I now have lives and reputations to protect.
But I was curious if anyone could stumble across our site by searching my name- which all the parents and faculty, of course, know.
Well, eventually, you do find our site. But first you have to read through a LOT of commentary about a Lauren Teague who is “defiant,” (nah) “borderline delinquent” (just what parents want to hear), “wayword,” (eh) but nonetheless, “beautiful.” (Yay!)

I think I’ll pass on reading the book.

It’s 3:30pm. I’m at work and just outside our door is a a huge team of S.W.A.T. guys with a bunch of hip-hoppers all zip-tied up and on the ground. I look outside our door, see the commotion, and right now a massive man hunt is underway. They have their guns drawn, running around our small parking lot, just past my car! I can now hear helicopters above — they’re looking for someone who escaped! Brian, my boss, has just put on “Murder Is The Case” by Snoop Dogg. Jeremy just put on “Bad Boys” – the theme to Cops.

Our door is locked.

Pray that I am able to tell you all the rest of this story.

—

UPDATE 4:30 PM.
Things have calmed down now. Though there’s still the sound of 2 helicopters above our building, the 10-12 people in the SWAT team have gone away in their armored truck. The press is also here, walking around, taking pictures. I’m wondering if it has anything to do with this.

We’re watching TV tonight, or rather, I’m aimlessly flipping through the channels desperate for some TV. Lauren comes to the rescue. “Let me show you how I handle this.” She reaches for the remote, and heads straight for what the Tivo has in the Now Playing listing. I tell her that I enjoy channel surfing for “the hunt of it all, and would rather use Now Playing as a last resort when I’m bored” She then smartly replies “See, thats the difference: Men are hunters, women are gathers. I have gathered the shows. Now we must watch them!”

It all started because I need to have my fingerprints on record with the Marietta Police. I tried to go yesterday and was informed the lady who does fingerprints was out sick. I was told to call today to find out if she was back in. I really need them done today because I’m supposed to have them for a meeting this afternoon. So I got up this morning, called the department, and was told that yes, she was in and yes, I could come in to get the prints done.
So I drove up to Marietta, walked into the Police Department for the second time in two days, waited in line… only to find out that the machine had *just* broken down and would possibly be back up this afternoon.
Now I had some time to kill before the meeting. (That I will be attending without the fingerprints.)

I decided the most helpful thing I could do would be to go to Home Depot to purchase paint for the new bedroom. I always feel a little extra girly when I walk into a Home Depot. It just isn’t my domain. School Box, sure. Barnes and Noble, of course, they sell Starbucks. Home Depot, not so much.
But at least I knew exactly what I wanted, so it should be a fairly non-humiliating trip. I went to the Paint section, found the paint sample that Josh and I liked, and waited to be helped. Along came Male Employee 1.
ME1: “Can I help you?”
Somehow, I get nervous, but try to cover it up with pseudo confidence. “Yes, I wanted to get a gallon of this color. I was told I should get latex paint- does this already come as a latex?” (Not bad, right? I used paint jargon.)
ME1: “You can ask for it to be made into a latex paint.”
Lauren: “Okay, great, I’ll get that.”

We walk to the counter and meet Male Employee 2.
ME2: “Yes?”
ME1: “She needs a gallon of this in a latex.”
ME2:” What kind of sheen?”
Lauren :”Oh, uh…..um…..hmm.” Drat. “What do people normally get for a bedroom?”
ME2: “Well, how much activity does it get?”

Lauren: ” _______ ”
I don’t think a complete thought formed in my brain for the next two seconds. I only had fragments of thought like “harassment” and “must be joke” and “can’t believe” and “don’t answer.” I actually think my mouth dropped open a little and stayed that way until FINALLY-

ME2: “Is it a kid’s bedroom?”

Oh, thank goodness.
Lauren :”NO! No, I do know that it is not.”

I was then told I could ‘get away’ with a matte or eggshell. I chose eggshell and just stood there avoiding eye contact as he mixed the paint. It seemed so obvious to me what had just happened, but the Males didn’t seem to notice. Unfortunately, I never really recovered my composure until I walked out of the store entirely.

And that, Josh, is the reason why you or another person of your choice will ALWAYS accompany me when I go to Home Depot.

10 measly days. Wow!

So Lauren prepped you for a story that she wanted me to relate . . . but before I begin that I must attempt to explain Lauren’s deeper motives. Those motives: Visitors. Stats. Hits. PEOPLE. Lauren should really just come clean with you all.

Alright, so we have this little stat counter down at the bottom of The Aisle that tracks you each time as you visit. Creeped out yet? It tells us how you got here, what search terms strangers may have used to get here, where you’re from, etc. We don’t know your name or anything, but it does provide us a good way to track our regular visitors.

Lauren watches that thing like a hawk.

Just about every day, I watch her as she anxiously clicks on that graphic to see how many hits we got for the day. Her tiny head moves in closer to the monitor as the page loads. Scrolls down . . . “only 20 hits!! . . . (scrolls down more . . . .smiling to see the regulars) . . . Josh? Do you know anybody from Madagascar?”

“Nope.”

Lauren – “Oh . . . Ok.”

Then I see the all-too-familiar look on her face after such a finding such a disappointment. That face is referencing the time months ago when I placed our little blog onto a design website in order to get people’s feedback, input, etc . . . and quite honestly to get “hits” for Miss Lauren.

I just didn’t think it through . . . and little did I realize the aftershocks that would wreak havoc.

That day we got close to 300 unique visitors to TFSI. On an average day now we get around 35 or so.

I text Lauren while she’s at work: “We’re getting about 25-30 hits an hour now.” She knew what I was talking about . . .

Text reply from Lauren: “What? What is going on?”

That day at work I was fairly useless just because I was watching the stats roll their way up the charts all day. It was amusing to see where people were from and to watch our little site go internationale.

I guess I just completely forgot that the site is a personal site . . . not a portfolio site or something that you’d usually put up on that design blog where I posted.

Lauren’s great at creating suspense. She’s great at keeping me listening to her . . . she’s just a fun girl to converse with. But I’m afraid this time she could be using it for personal gain.

And don’t even get me started on the whole Comments thing. She used to kind of joke with me when I got excited at my humble little blog’s gaining of a comment or two. So so sad, I know. But she’s nuts about getting comments.

She’s really become quite the little geek with TFSI. And though I’m eating it up, I thought others should know what she’s up to behind the scenes here. Keep visiting. Keep reading (as long as we’re posting stuff).

Bring it.

Admittedly, I can be a snob about certain things in life, namely fast food and Walmart.
The Walmart avoidance is mainly due to long, slow checkout lines, and the fact there is usually at least one unruly child throwing some sort of tantrum.
But when you’re shopping for a wedding, you have to go to reasonable places for things you never needed before- like spools and yards and feet of RIBBON. I have lists of our sudden ribbon needs, such as for the program, bouquets…before this planning process, I probably purchased ribbon maybe once, if ever. Anyway, so Mom and I decide to head over to the local Walmart ( ew) to try to purchase what will hopefully be the last of many ribbon purchases.
I was immediately turned off by the scores of cars outside and the lack of clean-looking shopping carts. (Dingy. Ew, ew) So when Mom went to get a shopping cart, I had my reservations. After pushing the thing down a few aisles, I finally dared myself to see if our cart also contained some sort of garbage product as the others seemed to. It did. A clothes hanger and a piece of round cardboard. (Tacky.)
At the sewing/craft center, I I needed this one type of blue ribbon. Walmart had one left on the shelves. It was missing the back of the cardboard spool that contained the barcode. I felt justified in my lack of respect for Walmart, yes I did. Look how they take care of their merchandise. Mom said we may have a problem at check out, but we would try and buy the ribbon anyway.
After waiting in a slow line, it was our turn to pay. I put all the ribbon spools- even the barcode-lacking one- onto the conveyer belt and was checking to see if we had missed any in the cart. Of course, I saw the nasty trash again. Some random hanger, hmmph. And that pointless cardboard circle….
Hmmm. I held the circle up. It had a barcode and a description-

1917SFS LT BLUE
5/8″ x 18ft
100% polyester

I held the piece up to our ghetto fabulous, backless ribbon spool. Perfect Match. I placed it on top of the backless spool, watched it go through the scanner, paid for it, and felt a little weirded out. It was a Walmart miracle, yes it was.

Alright so here’s the scoop. Tiffany forwarded me an email this week letting me know about this promotion that Ikea is running with Star94FM that ultimately gives 5 entrants $2,000 a piece to spend at the store! What’s more? You MUST stay in the store from June 26th thru the opening day (the 29th), for reasons that were not completely explained. To do this, I had to say in a few words the reason why I should be chosen to do this. But in the end, Ikea is saying that it is a “random” selection. Here’s the link that will will click on and just see where I entered . . and then you will leave, having not entered the contest. Here’s what I wrote to them:

Hello Ikea. I love you. I have only been to one of your stores once, and that was on a trip from Atlanta to Los Angeles where I ended up having to pay an extra 25 dollars in freight costs to get my bought goods (all from Ikea nonetheless) home. What’s better is that less than 3 weeks after the Atlanta store opens, I’ll be getting married! For the first time to my lovely fiance, Lauren. We’ll be getting married just in time to furnish our new loft apartment which we move into in July. Want more? I work right behind your new store at 500 Bishop St.. I’ve had to pass your building everyday during its construction just waiting for it to open. Complete and total agony. We take the “long” way back to the office every few days from lunch to check out the progress of the construction. What’s best, you ask??? My bosses have deamed our office CLOSED on your opening day just so we don’t have to fool with the resulting traffic at your store’s opening! So that means I’ve got the day off anyway, so why not just let me stay there? I need something to do. Come on. Let me in. I’m begging you. Thank you Ikea for finally putting a store in the South — it will make Atlanta great again! It will!

What you may be thinking: “But Italians are not (usually) fair skinned.” *

. . . Which is the irony of what is going to happen to my last name in a few months. My current last name (some call it ‘maiden’) is Petrella, which is my heritage from my Italian father. Technically, I’m half-Italian. But you’d never know it, since my complexion is dark enough that in elementary school, my teacher thought I fit into the Eskimo/Native American demographic.

Meanwhile, Josh’s last name -that I will soon be happily taking on- is Teague and translates as “fair-skinned.” Thus, to celebrate the wonder of God’s sense of humor, Josh and I thought it would be fun to give this site the name you now understand. The Fair Skinned Italians. (.com)

*The makers of this site are well aware of the value of cultural diversity and the need to avoid stereotypes. One of us had to write several papers about Cultural Diversity in the Classroom, in fact. It is not our desire to reinforce the idea that race=color. However, in this case it worked for us and we ask that you respect that.