Here's a blog with pictures, but none of me because I'm still too chicken for that (but working up to it)

I hesitated a little about writing this post because any allusion to beds always leads some minds to the gutter, and because I’m a little afraid of what Google searches might lead to this post entirely devoted to beds. However, today I saw that someone got to my blog by doing a search for “Stacie’s Nude Website,” so I figure….hey, the creeps are getting here regardless…So here goes:

The History of Carly and Me (or How to Spend as Much Time in the Bed as Possible)

One thing Carly and I have in common is a love for the life of leisure. I found this out long before we ever lived together. One weekend, all of my roommates were out of town, so Carly stayed over. She slept in my roommate Karen’s bed, and we didn’t get out of our beds all weekend, except for occasional trips to the kitchen to grab some cookies to bring back to our beds or to use the restroom.

After we did move in together, we shared a TINY room with such a low ceiling that I had to hoist myself up onto our white, metal-framed bunk beds at a 45 degree angle to avoid hitting my head on the ceiling.



Carly and I were perfect bunk bed mates: she loved the bottom bunk, and I loved the top. However, when we first moved in, we were both too nice to say what we wanted. I assumed she would want the top because it was the best, and she assumed I would want the bottom. Neither of us said a word and we both sacrificed the bunk we wanted, unknowingly causing the other person also to give up the bunk of her choice. Eventually the truth came out, and we switched.

Some highlights of our time in these bunk beds included:

-We stayed in bed so late the first morning we were in our apartment that our other roommate assumed we were gone. She and one of the girls upstairs walked around talking about us and calling us rambunctious and we heard every word.

-At first I thought it was funny that every time Carly would come home (from school or work or anywhere really), she would walk straight from the front door to the bedroom, drop her bag, get in the bed and often wrap her blanket Rehar around her head. But it was only a matter of time before I was doing it, too (sans Rehar). And let me tell you, it was a lot easier to carry on a conversation when we were both right there together, instead of talking from two different rooms.



-For some reason, we felt we had to begin the video we shot for an Italian class project, Le Notizie Secondo Glorie (The News According to the Glorias), by waking up and getting out of our beds and end it by crawling into the beds and going to sleep.

-On the wall beside our beds hung colored, paper eggs we made when we co-wrote our workbook, “Don’t Put All Your Eggs in One Basket: A Girl’s Guide to College Dating.” Carly also had a picture on the wall of Mat (from her “Plat for Mat” days) and I had a picture of Steven Tyler next to me.

-Carly’s pants were ALWAYS on my bed. I don’t know if she threw them there subconsciously whenever she changed, but she always denied it, “I have no idea how they got there.” She still stands by this.

-Every night, our ritual went as follows: Carly would get in her bed while I did a dance to “Don’t Let the Stars Get in Your Eyes” by K.D. Lang---which was really funny, not creepy like it sounds. Then I would get in my bed and hang my arm down while Carly reached over to the bedside table for our bottle of TUMS (we ate them like candy) and put two in my hand.

Needless to say, we spent a lot of time in those bunk beds. So on the day we moved out, when the lady came for the cleaning check and to collect our keys, it was only natural that we were both crying and hugging our beds goodbye. Nothing could console us but some fast food and a trip to Lagoon.

Fast forward 6 months to when I flew back to Utah for Carly’s wedding. The night before her wedding, we were both staying in the guest room at her parents’ house being silly and just having a lot of girl talk---you know the usual night-before-wedding girl stuff. Carly told me that Mike thought it was weird that we were going to sleep in the same bed, which we thought was ridiculous…. I think guys just think about that kind of thing differently…Anyway, the next morning Mike showed up and there we were both sound asleep in the guest bed. Georgia tried unsuccessfully to stop him, and the next thing we knew there he was standing in the doorway looking at us. Quickwitted Carly hopped to her feet (standing on the bed, that is), looked down at me and said, “Well, I’m glad I came in for this quick morning chat.” She made everyone laugh, and the moment that shouldn’t have been awkward but was, disappeared.

We have now lived far apart for many years, but when we do have the chance to see each other, things haven’t changed too much. In December, we spent a lot of time eating truffles on my bed. And when I was in Utah recently, I sat on the bed watching NASCAR and giving a running dialogue to Carly, who was in and out of consciousness. But I still feel a little bad for telling Mike, who was exhausted, that he was going to have to wait a few more minutes to go to bed because I needed to lie on the memory foam a little longer.