Monday, February 28, 2005

Oh, the Horror - scope

Did you read the last post? Well get a load of today's horoscope...

Increase the amount of attention you give each individual. Special eye contact and focus will allow a very dynamic interaction to develop. Maximize the positive. A sudden premonition is probably correct.

I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

Sunday, February 27, 2005

Is It a Full Moon or is it Just Me?

I went to a school fundraiser last night. Not really dressy, but I did kick it up a notch for the evening. I wore underwear and everything.

After I was there for a while, roaming the room, looking at auction items (I won a fabulous picture, by the way, but all I wanted was the frame and it was still a steal) I realized I wasn't sure when was the last time I had been in a room with so many people my age. My age and older. Doesn't happen very often.

Then I realized something else entirely. I don't think I've ever really pointed out to myself how little I met people's eyes. I will look around, but as soon as someone looks me in the eyes I look away.

Trust me, it's not because I have a submissive personality. Just the opposite. I'm to much of a dominant personality so that when I meet anyone's eyes, male or female, it feels like I'm challenging them. If I actually lock eyes for any amount of time it's like marking that person. Then, even if I look away, it's like I can still feel them. Then the rest of the evening, I can feel them. Weird, I know.

It's sexual and it's powerful and, frankly, it's exhausting. Maybe that's why I try not to look.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

She Said He Said

Here is Nick's ( response to my 100 list (I tried to do that as a link but, of course, failed miserably). Don't tell his friends. He's not supposed to fraternize with old people like me....

1. I wish I looked older
2. I love to stay up all hours of the night
3. And sleep all hours of they day
4. My ex-girlfriend drove me to drink
5. But instead of AA I just got over her
6. Smoking pot used to be a lot of fun
7. But it was a phase and I stopped
8. I have licked whipped cream off of someone
9. And it is messy
10. I’ve always loved to fly
11. I’ve been handcuffed but not arrested
12. And that was a lot of fun
13. I am a dual citizen to The United Kingdom and the US
14. I have been naked in bed with a women for more than 24 hours
15. I’ve never seen an Elvis impersonator
16. I cannot make a flute make a noise
17. But I can play the recorder quite well
18. I got a first place rating in the National Piano Guild
19. But I am saddened by how much I suck at playing now
20. I used to eat toast with salt sprinkled on it
21. Even though salt makes me cough
22. I’ve loved tofu from a very early age
23. I could be very bad
24. But then I’d feel too guilty
25. I’m the only guy in the family that doesn’t have his father’s first name as his middle
26. My mother died when I was 5
27. I will shop at Walmart
28. But I much prefer Target
29. I didn’t think I was a snob, but I might be
30. I’ve never liked my name that much
31. I don’t understand my Mum
32. Opaque water scares me
33. I am a wanker (and if they say they aren’t then they’re lying)
34. I read Oliver Twist in third grade
35. I was voted “Most likely to sleep though my wedding and birth of my first child” my senior year
36. And I understand EXACTLY how that happened
37. I always tip 18%
38. I was born 2.5 months early at 2lbs 7oz
39. I am not at thin as I used to be
40. But I am working on it
41. I like to think that I am funny
42. I am really good at trivia
43. Except for sports trivia (stupid green wedge in trivial pursuit!)
44. I threw gum at a passing police car and talked my way out of it
45. I love to read nonfiction
46. But all reading puts me to sleep
47. All of the female anchors on CNN headline news are ridiculously hot
48. I get crushes too easily
49. Once I start reading a book I often start another 3 and never finish any of them
50. I had sex in the Mediterranean on the French Riviera
51. And there were people swimming 20 feet away
52. It was a topless beach
53. And that is the worst sunburn I’ve ever had
54. Olives are disgusting and even the taste of olive oil is too much for me sometimes
55. I love Almond Liqueur
56. I’ve walked in on my parents
57. And they’ve walked in on me
58. And both were awful
59. I’m too easy going to have a problem with authority
60. I have only seen the Grand Canyon from an airplane
61. I’ve had a car professionally waxed
62. I love cats
63. I wish I could write decent music
64. But I can only read sheet music, I can’t even improvise
65. I can’t sing worth a shit
66. I sing all the time in the car
67. I make awesome curry
68. I adore mushrooms
69. I will always buy Honda or Acura
70. I hate Jessica Simpson but she is super hot
71. I wish I still had my accent
72. I’ve seduced women just to see if I could
73. I wasn’t supposed to get wisdom teeth but I did
74. Octopus makes good sushi
75. I was about to get engaged once
76. I miss wearing a ring
77. I’ve never understood why it is called “going commando”
78. I pee in the shower
79. If I have athlete’s foot (it cures it)
80. I can’t stand to play Checkers but I love Chess
81. I am super polite
82. Even when its time not to be
83. I can’t wait to have children one day
84. I want to go skydiving
85. I used to kick cars when I was drunk
86. I’ve fouled out of a soccer game for illegal tackles
87. I blackout when I drink hard alcohol
88. I LOVE seafood
89. I could eat Taco Bell everyday
90. I will only drink diet soda, regular tastes nasty
91. I don’t wear colored contacts because I have brilliantly blue eyes
92. I have dressed as a Blue Man for Halloween
93. I can fall asleep anywhere anyttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt
94. I found out a few years ago that I had an older sister who didn’t survive birth
95. I’ve had sex with a girl with a scorpion tattoo
96. It kind of freaked me out
97. But she was dynamite in bed
98. I’ve tried to write stand-up comedy, emphasis on tried
99. I love the Jersey Shore
100. I’d rather be cold then hot because you can always make yourself warmer
101. I own two watches and one is a fake Rolex
102. My other watch band keeps breaking all the time
103. I also have a problem stopping when I should
104. AJ really had 105 items on her list, she miscounted around #60
105. You now know 104 things about me, and 1 more thing about AJ

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

100 Things

I case you aren't already afraid of me....

1 - I love getting older
2 - I love to sleep
3 - When I'm trying not to completely lose my cool - I growl
4 - I have driven an ex-boyfriend to drink
5 - Then he went to AA and had to make amends with ME
6 - Smoking pot makes me really really paranoid
7 - I have never kissed a girl
8 - I have licked whipped cream off of someone
9 - I have skinny dipped in the middle of the afternoon
10 - I was busted by a guy climbing a telephone pole while I was on the diving board
11 - I have been arrested but not handcuffed
12 - I have turned, walked off and never looked back
13 - I have been a movie extra several times - it sucks
14 - I have been naked in bed with a guy for more than 24 hours
15 - An Elvis impersonator once took my shoe off and kept sniffing it and wouldn't give it back
16 - I used to play the flute
17 - I still own one
18 - I can play the piano
19 -"She's Always a Woman" by Billy Joel makes me think of me
20 - I used to mix sugar in peanut butter and eat it out of a bowl with a spoon
21 -I hate the word panties
22 - And gonch
23 - It would be very easy for me to be very bad
24 -But I'm not
25 -When I was little I wanted to change my name to Strawberry
26 -My family lost our home and everything we own when the Teton Dam broke (6-5-76)
27 -I REFUSE to shop at Walmart
28 -Not because of their business practices, I just don't like the other people in there shopping
29 -I am a big catty snob
30 -My mom recently admitted that my name doesn't suit me
31 -My mom drives me insane
32 - Vampires scare me
33 - I think masturbation rocks and I'm really wonder about people who don't self-love
34 - I have read 391 books since July 1988
35 - I was voted best dressed my Senior Year
36 - I have NO idea how that happened
37 - I am an overly generous tipper
38 - My mother swears I could read the newspaper when I was three years old
39 - I am not very limber
40 - But I'm working on it
41 - If you think I am funny - I LOVE you!
42 - I am really good at trivia
43 - Except for sports trivia, which I could not care less about
44 - I once threw a snowball at a passing police car and my brother got busted for it
45 - I love to read historical romance
46 - But I try to limit my intake so my brain doesn't rot
47 - I think Anderson Cooper is incredibly hot
48 - I get crushes alllllllllll the time
49 - Once I start reading a book, I HAVE to finish it or it drives me crazy
50 - I had sex in the jump circle of my high school gym
51 - I had already graduated
52 - I was also breaking and entering
53 - We also fooled around on the wrestling mats
54 - Brussel sprouts are so disgusting just looking at a picture of them makes me gag
55 - I love Almond Roca
56 - I got fired from Baskin Robbins for having a whip cream fight in the back room
57 - I had just run around the corner, slipped and fallen when the boss walked in
58 - I was covered in whip cream and I looked up at her red angry face and started laughing
59 - I have a problem with authority
60 - I have only seen the Grand Canyon in winter when it was snowing - it was breathtaking
61 - I have never had anything professionally waxed
62 - I love dogs
61 - My mother & I wrote a children's musical
62 - It was performed under The London Bridge in Lake Havasu during London Bridge Days
63 - I can't sing worth a shit
64 - I sing all the time and my kids yell at me to stop
65 - I make awesome Treasure Cookies
66 - I hate mushrooms
67 - I have owned two jeeps and three VW bugs and three or four other cars
68 - I hate Celine Dion and Mariah Carey
69 - I am a total sucker for accents (Spanish accents excluded)
70 - I've made guys fall in love with me just because I was bored
71 - I only had two wisdom teeth
72 - While diving off Kauai I had an octopus wrap around my left thigh
73 - I was engaged twice before I married my husband
74 - I wear the same jewelry every day and I only take it off to do yoga
75 - I don't wear underwear
76 - I pee in the shower
77 - It's the only time I get to while standing
78 - I can't stand to play Scrabble
79 - I am super polite
80 - Until it's time not to be, then I will rip your asshole out your throat
81 - I have absolutely no doubt that I would kill to protect my children
82 - I have gone sky diving twice
83 - I used to kick people when I was drunk, just for the fun of it
84 - I have fouled out of a basketball game more than once
85 - I am a mean drunk when I drink hard alcohol (see #83)
86 - I don't like seafood
87 - I would eat Mexican food every day
88 - I am addicted to fountain Coke
89 - I can't wear colored contacts because they sit crooked on my eyes and I can't see
90 - I have dressed as Olive Oyl for Halloween
91 - I can fall asleep any where at any time
92 - I hate my stepsisters for making me less special to my dad
93 - I have had sex with a man with one leg (well, one and a half)
94 - I don't remember it because I was really drunk
95 - But since we are friends he refers to it occasionally
96 - I recently wrote a short erotic story that I totally want to re-enact
97 - I love warm water beaches
98 - I don't like being cold
99 - I know how to set just about any watch
100 - I can also adjust watch bands
101 - I have a problem stopping when I should
102 - I probably talk too much
103 - You know now 102 things about me. And nothing about me.

When a Good Man Goes Down

This is not turning into a movie blog. I promise.

But I HAVE to comment on Tommy Lee Jones' appearance in the sparkling new movie entitled Man of the House. Have you SEEN the horror that is the trailer for this movie? I literally had my mouth hanging open - look of incredulity and disgust on my face.

What kind of gambling debt does a man have to BE in to agree to make a travesty like this?

Who is blackmailing my man Tommy Lee?

Even if he got submit each and every one of those girls and to carnal knowledge of the most deviant kind, that STILL would not be reason enough to be in this nightmare.

Let's just chalk it up to Alzheimer's and go home.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Sign of the Apocolypse

We have made Jesus very angry. How can I tell? Easy....

Miss Congeniality 2

Plagues and locusts were nothing, baby. This time he's gonna make us PAY.

It IS a Conspiracy - I'm NOT Just Paranoid

I am used to the fact that hub doesn't listen to 90% of the things I say and that my children just hear "waaaaaah waaaaaaah waaaah" (see previous post), but this morning I was shocked and irritated to find that now even inanimate objects refuse to hear and obey.

Hub was out of town so I have to do one of the things I hate... Go out and bring in the paper (I was also supposed to take the trash out to the curb yesterday too but.....). Back in AZ this was no biggie. But here, where it is like in the 40's today, it sucks. Now I probably should point out that if I was not such a lazy little cow lounging about the house in my little PJ outfit this would not be the traumatic experience that it is. But I am and therefore it is (go Descartes!). Oh and I am also too lazy to put on a coat. Yep. Now I know at this point I have lost all sympathy due to my "bringing it on myself" blah blah blah. But follow along people. I do have a point and it's coming up.

Anyhoo, I open the garage door (because it sticks out farther then the front door and therefore leaves me susceptible to elemental forces for a shorter period of time) and scurry out like a scavenger scanning for road kill. I send a silent curse toward the paper person for getting it in the grass (I see that $20 tip I gave you at Christmas hasn't improved your aim) and thusly making me get my feet freezing wet then I skitter back into the garage. Leaping nimble over ride-on toys, helmets and sawdust piles, I am once again at the door to the warm inner sanctum and I hit the button to bring the metal curtain down on my outdoor episode. The door shivers goes down about 2 inches then stops. Now since I usually just hit the button and run, I am starting to shut the inside door when I realize that it would be the only one shut. Hmmm, I say then I hit the button again. It shudders again and goes back up. Hmmm, I say again and I push the button again. And, again, it shudders down two-ish inches and stops. Now I must have been channeling "man" at this point because I stood there and pressed the button through several more 2-inches-down-2-inches-up cycles muttering "Hmmm" the whole time. Finally I just push the button and hold it down until the door complains it's way all the way down.

Thus proving that even though it just sounds like I'm bitching, it's actually true - NO ONE LISTENS TO ME!!!

Now if you'll excuse me I need to go read the funnies.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

School of Life

Because I like you people, well most of you, I am going to save you some time and grief in the future by giving you a little tip.....

If your breakfast consists of a glass of OJ and approximately EIGHT pieces of bacon DO NOT get up after you finish the funnies and decide to do yoga.

Just a little advice from me to you.

(And for those of you keeping track, yes this is the second time in about a week where I have had barely digested bacon morsels shoot out of my nose. It was just as beautiful the second time around. Oh bacon! How can you treat me so badly when I love you so much?)

Friday, February 18, 2005

Comprende Mystery Machine?

From the files of "Why Do I Even Bother With These People?"

I call today to get a haircut appointment...

Girl: I can get you in Sunday at 11. Is that okay?
Me: That would be GREAT! I am totally overdue for a cut.
Girl: That happens.
Me: Seriously. I used to have a Scooby Doo. Now I'm just Shaggy.
Girl: (big pause) Okay, so that's Sunday at 11.
Me: (mumbling) Yeah, thanks.

I don't even speak their language.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

If I Were a Man (Rich or Otherwise)

A little while ago I received an e-mail from the witty and studly Bob sharing the following tale...

"Did you see that guy that proposed to his girlfriend at an NBA game? This was on Valentine's Day, and he proposed to her on center court. She looked in disbelief, shook her head no, then ran off the court. LOL!"

That was his quote. I will never, ever, write LOL regardless of whether I have laughed out loud or not.


This inspired me to relate how I would propose if I were a man (because I don't think women should ever have to).

First, and you would think obviously, I would be absolutely, positively, without-a-shadow-of-a-doubt certain that my proposee was going to say yes. It truly is amazing how many men skip this step.

Okay, so I (again, assuming I'm a man) have found the Aphrodite of my dreams. I have spent some serious time soul searching about my decision including squinting at my beloved at odd times and picturing how she would age and sag and wrinkle up, so as to see how I felt about such changes. I would know her thoughts on child raring, religion, politics, the welfare system and who gets the wet spot. I have given myself the mental green light, as I have indeed found womanly perfection (as it applied to me anyway).

Now I need to PLAN the proposal. I would absolutely NOT make said proposal in public (for those who may disagree, please see above). It would be as romantic as hell. Romantic as hell FOR THE GIRL. Which means just because I (the man) think Duncan Sheik plays romantic tunes, if THE GIRL thinks he's a hack, the evening is not going to go well. It's all about the investigation and planning. What's her favorite food? Check. What is her favorite dessert? Check. Favorite music? Check. Check. Check. Check.

Now when I say "not in public" I mean "not within hearing, or even better seeing, distance of other people". I do not mean you can't do something romantic in the park or on a boat or on horseback or at the gator park. If you can actually involve fireworks, bonus for you. Generally. You have to tailor the situation for the girl.

If she LOVES Velvet Revolver, I would take her to the concert then propose to her afterwards (when she's still pumped up). If she LOVES puppies, I would find someone giving away puppies, take her to pick one out and when she does get down on one knee, hand her the puppy and ask her to marry me.

Now, you may note, at this point, that I have said NOTHING about the ring. You're right I haven't. And brownie points to you for paying attention.

I, and again this is just me, don't think the GUY should pick out the ring. Follow along.

After she has said yes (as I was SURE she would) I, while still on bended knee, tell her that tomorrow I am taking her to the jewelry store and she is going to pick the ring of her dreams. I tell her that she is going to be wearing this ring EVERY DAY for THE REST OF HER LIFE and I want to make sure she loves it like I love her (even though that is not possible).

Cut to Jewelry store.

Okay, now after we arrive, I seat her in one of the comfy chairs provided (if the "jewelry store" doesn't even have chairs GET OUT NOW - sometimes in life you need to get a little gouged in order to have the appropriate atmosphere). I take the sales person aside and let them know The Plan. Said sales person would then bring an array of rings in my "price range" (about three months salary is still the rule of thumb - and that's GROSS income, you cheap bastards). After my new fiancee oohs and aahs over them, she will eventually narrow down the choices. When she finally seems to settling on one, my Plan, as previously discussed with the sales person, kicks in. Sales person goes and gets ring that is JUST like the one my fiancee is currently deciding she loves only it is BIGGER. I get down on bended knee, again, and tell her that the ring she is holding just would not show how much I love her. I think she should take this one. Bigger, more sparkly, more beautiful, more her.

The MOST IMPORTANT thing to remember is that she is going to remember this for the REST OF HER LIFE. And she is going to tell ALL HER FRIENDS AND FAMILY about it over and over and over and over. Make it special.

That, in a nut shell, is it. If you need any more advice, please feel free to e-mail.

Oh and if I was the girl in the opening proposal story I would have said yes on the court, then crushed the poor slob later in private. But, again, that's just me.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

If NOTHING happens in Vegas does it still have to stay there?

Yes, I had fun in Vegas, but not in a "Girls Gone Wild" kind of way. More in a bankers-and-middle-management-types-out-with-their-housewives kind of way.

Both the hub AND I get orange carded at the airport including a full pat down. I told the lady touching me that if she could occasionally exclaim "Have you lost weight?" that it would make the process more enjoyable for everyone.

The guy doing hub was just plain strange, resulting in the following conversation...
Me: That guy was weird
hub: yeah
Me: Like, still lives with his mother weird.
hub: yeah
Me: Like still lives with his mother's corpse weird.
hub: Nice honey. That's comforting.

Our flight had a connection in Phoenix and both Phoenix and Vegas were just getting pounded with rain. There were delayed flights all over the place. I actually got the pleasure of seeing one of the gate agents picking his ass while telling passengers that our flight was going to be delayed three more hours. It was a golden moment.

Oh, and a woman behind me in one of the stand-by lines asked "Did you just come from Tulsa? I THOUGHT I saw them patting you down." Really.

So we finally get there, skooch into our hotel to throw some non-traveling clothes on and go over to Caesar's to meet our friends in the Shadow bar. They are mostly hammered and when they see us they all start cheering so that everyone in the bar is trying to figure out if we are celebrities or something (which, of course, I am). So one hour, half a beer and four shots later, I'm pretty caught up and in a big discussion regarding whether the shots are called red-headed something or bloody bitch (we never did figure it out but it was red and had Jaeger in it). Here are various other bits of conversation (as near as I can recall)....

During our masturbation discussion, H is SWEARING that she has NEVER EVER masturbated, Kr & I are discussing the merits of The Rabbit, Ke is laughing and telling H to get with the program whereupon I tell her "Yeah! I mean, I masturbate so much I have Carpal Tunnel" and Ke laughs so hard she practically falls off her chair. Then we ask the waitress what she thinks.

I have to touch Ke's husband P's chest because, well I don't really know why, and he feels so waxy that I get creeped out and spend the rest of the trip giving him the fish eye.

H & Ke get up and start reverse oreo dancing with some poor unsuspecting black man from the table across from us. They look drunk and he looks confused. I think he's afraid they are going to try to sell him cookies. Or Jesus.

Then I go to the bar to try to get H some water (as she is starting to look a little rough) and spend the next good ten minutes getting my whole right side molested by some guy from Wisconsin who is telling me how bad he feels because his wife, back in WI, is in emergency surgery and he HAS to be in Vegas. Apparently a good grope can assuage guilt.

Have I mentioned yet that at this point my friend Kr has kissed EVERYONE at least three times? But then she is the one who gets drunk at her own Christmas parties and puts on chaps and dances to "Cherry Pie" (including gymnastics moves).

So we finally stagger out of the bar at maybe 3-ish and I am SO DRUNK I proclaim to hub, "Let's go do a little gambling". So we sit down to play "Let it Ride" (because it requires NO SKILL whatsoever). I immediately tell the dealer that I am hammered and to feel free to laugh at me. Which she does. Freely. I know for sure I alienated a couple of Canadians (you know how they are) and probably a Russian from California.

I finally lose all my money (surprise, surprise) and out of nothing but concern for me in my delicate state, my husband says "Why don't you go ahead and head up to the room. I'm going to stay and gamble a little more." Have I mentioned how drunk I am? There was a very good chance I was going to stagger out onto the Strip and live out the rest of my days as a crack whore, but, you know, don't let me stop your non-existent "streak" honey.

So I stagger off toward where I think the elevators are. Stagger stagger stagger. Three steps forward, one wiiiiide step to the side, attempt to regain course, two more steps forward, one more wiiide step into a bank of slot machines where I attempt to smile and nod at a 90-year old chain smoking hag snarling over her video poker. I was so ridiculously, obviously hammered I think a group of Japanese tourists was taking pictures of me, but I can't be sure.

So I finally make it to my elevator. As the doors are about to close, a guy hops on caring a drink and bag of food from Burger King. From now on I will refer to him as Poor Rick because that is what I call him in my head. So poor unsuspecting Rick gets into the elevator with ME - drunkest person in the world.

After about three floors of me trying to stand up straight and look normal, he innocently remarks, " You know, you look like Julia Roberts." At which point I come COMPLETELY UNGLUED (not that my glue was sticking very well at the moment anyway) and start YELLING at him..."What is the deal with that? I look NOTHING like her? Why do people keep telling me that? What is it? Hunh? Can you PLEASE tell me what it is that makes ME look like HER? Seriously? What is it?" etc, etc, etc, until he manages to whimper something along the lines of "I don't know. Something about your profile maybe?" I snort derisively in his direction.

Then notice the straw sticking out of his drink. Lightning like, I re-apply my "normal" personality and innocently ask, "What cha drinkin'?" To which, again poor poor Rick, who hasn't learned yet it's best to just ignore me, says "Diet Coke". And I'm off again. "DIET COKE??!! What is the deal with you MEN and Diet Coke?" Another derisive snort.

And another question, "What's in the bag?" again, slow learner Rick tells me, "A cheeseburger". Psycho me - "WHAT!!?? No fries??!! WHY on earth would you NOT get fries? What is WRONG with you."

At about this point the elevators doors, in a act of clemency toward Poor Rick, open on my floor. Yet another reason to call him poor poor Rick? It's also HIS floor. In fact his room is only like TWO DOORS DOWN from mine. So he is stuck with me.

Somewhere along the line (gee, you'd think I could remember) I offer to take a digital picture of us and e-mail it to him. Yeah, I have NO IDEA.

So I go to my room, get my camera, go BACK to his room, barge in (why on EARTH did he even open the door?) and proceed stomp around trying to figure out where to put my camera - the coffee table, his open luggage, the bed, etc - so I can take a picture of me sitting with him on the couch. This takes a few minutes and I just can't get it right. I eventually grab my camera, muttering something about something and stomp off to my room.

THIS IS WHY I DON'T DRINK PEOPLE!!! Can you SEE the crazy stuff I do?

So then I spend the next hour or so vomiting several hundreds of dollars worth of alcohol into the toilet and the trash can. It was delightful. I was also laying on my bed and cursing loudly at my clothes because I just couldn't get them off. Somewhere along the line, hub came back in a good (aka winning) mood and undressed me and tucked me into bed.

Cut to next day where I dry heave for about an hour until hub and his best friend, not even TRYING to act concerned for my welfare or the welfare of his equally ill wife upstairs, run out the door to go gamble. But here is, almost verbatim, what hub's friend says to me before he leaves...

Me: Well is she going to come down here to meet me for breakfast?
Him: Well, you might want to call her because she is forgetful.
Me: Okay, what's your room number?
Him: I dunno. I forget.

AND he doesn't even realize what he just said. I even replay the whole conversation for him and he just shrugs. Freaking men.

So I slowly make my way up to their room, walking the entire time all hunched over and shuffling my feet like an escapee from the geriatric ward. I fall into her room and we both spend a good half hour lying in fetal positions on her bed with me relating my tales of the stagger home and my torturing of Poor Rick. She is alternately laughing her ass off and trotting off to puke.

We finally decide to get some room service as neither of us could possibly make it down to a restaurant let alone try to eat in one. I open the room service menu and the first thing I see are the words "Giant Banana Split". I immediately slam the cover shut, simultaneously laughing and moaning. If you knew about the recent development in how I feel about bananas, this is more entertaining. So we both gross out about that for a while. Then I try again. This time I get "Asian Chicken Wrap". Oh good god! Slam goes the cover again. How the hell am I going to eat? I can't even READ about the food?!! H has pity on me and since she has just thrown up is enjoying that small respite of "feel better" before the nausea creeps in again. She calls and orders us both BLT's and Pepsi's (because Pepsi has apparently cornered the restaurant / room service market in Vegas).

I moan a little more and make her laugh a little more and she tells me that I should be a comedian (I KNOW I told her a ton of funny stuff, I just can't remember what it is). She tells met that she thinks her brother would love me and I tell her that I think her brother thinks I'm a complete dork ball. (Side note - I love her brother just because he is HER brother but also because he told his three boys that they should never get in a car with strangers because "they will take you out in the desert, fuck you in the ass, and kill you and you will never see your family again." Sometimes a little truth in advertising is the best thing. Keeping in mind that for entertainment for his three boys routinely involves taking turns punching each other in the nuts.)

Where was I? Oh yes...

So the room service guy FINALLY brings us our food. He doesn't seem to impressed with the two of us moaning and curled in fetal positions, but then I can't imagine what a room service guy in Las Vegas sees on a regular basis. I sit on the floor with my plate in my lap and slowly chew my way through 46 pieces of bacon on toast with lettuce and tomato. H lays on the couch and eats hers. Then we both want to take a nap. So I stagger back down to my room, take off my clothes and slide back in to my ridiculously disheveled bed.

Oh, I forgot to mention that earlier that morning, before hub left, I was trying to pry my revolting (in more ways than one) body from bed and I look down on the floor between my bed and hubs (no, we don't routinely sleep in separate beds, it was just all they had when we checked in at midnight) and guess what I see? I big long fingernail. OF COURSE IT ISN'T MINE. Good lord. I made record time leaping over it to spring to the bathroom. Hub came and picked it up with a tissue and disposed of it, but I'm now thinking there is a dead hooker under my bed (those stories have to start SOMEWHERE you know).

So later "the girls" go shopping in the Forum shops and the guys gamble while I try to sleep until I can open one eye and see the walls acting in a stable manner. I finally give up and try to make myself as presentable as possible so I can work my way down to the casino. I find hub & friends playing at a table and I sit behind them at a slot machine cautiously nibbling a croissant and sipping a Pepsi. Oh, and they had been telling every dealer and every other person who sat down at the table about my "condition". I think my crappy looking state is what lead the woman sitting next to my husband to tell him that she thought I looked like Winona Ryder. Has that EVER been a compliment? I think not.

The rest of the trip of pretty uneventful except that I won like $500 and we saw Pete Rose.

The End.

Friday, February 11, 2005

Gonna set my soul on fire

I am hereby giving notice that I will be in Sin City for the next two days.

No! NOT Pamela Lee's bedroom. The OTHER Sin City.

Yep, I'm a goin' to Vegas.

Those kid's college tuition accounts aren't going to spend themselves you know.

I hope to return with tales of fabulous riches.

Or at least something entertaining involving a pirate, a dwarf and the wax figure of John Travolta that I've been eyeing in Madame Tusaud's.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Animaniacs - porn gateway

My kids (2 & 4) were watching cartoons the other day and I over heard the following on Animaniacs...

Dot: "Tell me a bedtime story. Pleeeeese!"
Wackko: "There once was a man from Nantucket"

Somewhere Tipper Gore is rolling over in her grave.


She's NOT dead?

Oh. Whoops.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Year of the Cock

Ha ha! I wrote "Cock" and made you look!

Year of the Cock is the coolest year. Yes, I know some namby-pambys call it "Year of the Rooster", but what's the fun in that?

Say it loud! Say it proud! "I'm a Cock!

You know who you are.

Sunday, February 06, 2005

Memory theory

Humans have bed memories.

Proof #1- women who have more than one child. ESPECIALLY the wierdos who CHOOSE natural childbirth given the plethora of good drugs out there. (me - Can I have an epidural yet? How about now? Now? Come on! Now? What about now? I think now would be a good time. Pretty please? How about now? Well than what else can I have? Is that all you got? Um... how about now?)

Proof #2 - Anyone who does more than one DIY project.

Thus follows our cautionary tale........

My mother-in-law gave us a gift card to Lowes for Christmas so we could replace our kitchen sink. She had them figure in how much it would be to buy a sink, as well as a new faucet, and get it installed and that is how much is on the card. Hub & I decide we can save the $250-ish dollars that it's going to cost to have it installed and do it ourselves thus leaving more money to buy, um, more DIY stuff.

First trip to store, just to scout out sink and faucet options: 10 minutes of arguing in sink aisle including much yelling at kids to "get off that" and "don't touch that" and 10 minutes arguing in the faucet aisle including "what are you, retarded?" and "If you two touch ONE MORE THING I am taking you over to the refrigerator displays and shutting you in one!!! "

Second trip to store to buy sink, faucet, new garbage disposal (as we will have SOOOO much extra money), and all gewgaws recommended by DIY website for DIY sink/faucet/garbage disposal replacement: "I hate you" and "If a divorce attorney were standing in front of me RIGHT NOW with papers I would sign them" and "BOTH of you keep BOTH of your hands where I can see them at ALL TIMES!!!" and "How did you get back there? Get out RIGHT NOW!!!" and me stomping off, with the kids, to go look at Dora and Jimmy Neutron paint samples.

No, I will not torture you with the horrid tales of installation, but I will tell you this...
hub had to make SIX trips back to Lowes (doubling my pre-project estimate).

But this conversation did occur...

Hub: Listen!
Me: I am listening. Apparently I am the only one WITH that capability.

Obviously we were being nice here.

I figure a $250 installer/plumber is MUCH cheaper than Marriage Counseling.

And divorce court.

Thank god for Super Bowl - we won't have to talk to each other all night.

Friday, February 04, 2005

Thank you "Do Go On"

Today's blog in in honor of the forward-thinking chicks of "Do Go On", whose blog I would link to if I were not so retarded and technologically backwards (I think that's yllacigolonhcet), but it's

I am posting the compliment my hub gave me today.

And he wasn't even drinking. Yet.

Hub: Hey, you're looking really skinny.

Me: How nice of you to finally notice that I lost a little weight.

Hub: No, really. You're... model-like.

Must be the jeans.
And he's still not getting any tonight because he pissed me off later.

State of MY Union

Attention shoppers...

I don't give a shit what Bush says unless I'm in his will.

Please return to your shopping

Thank you.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

I should come with a warning label

Oh yes, gentle readers, I have gone and done it again. Let mouth run rampant without checking with brain first. I can't believe they let me out of the house.

This really happened, just a few minutes ago...

I go to the dry cleaners to drop of my husbands shirts (which I should have done Monday - oops!) and I figure since I'm going, I'd drop off our comforter and return some hangers (in AZ, where I just moved here from, they take them and recycle them) because he is usually the one who goes and he never remembers to take anything but his shirts - selfish shit. Our dry cleaners ROCKS because you just drive up to a sliding glass door and they either get all your smelly items out or put your nicely pressed and cardboard-like items in. No tipping expected! I wish they sold Big Gulps.

Me (to boy, easily half my age, who comes out to help me): I just want you to know that I KNOW I'm being a lazy ass when I just pull up.

Boy (laughing): No problem. That's what I'm here for.

Me: I have that bag there and I brought you back some hangers.

Boy: Oh you can just throw those away.

Me: Oh! I'm sorry! I thought you recycled them.

Boy: No. We just throw them away when you bring them back.

Me: Sorry! I had no idea. Maybe there's an abortion clinic around that might need them. (Yes, god help me, this actually popped out of my mouth, verbatim)

Boy: (looking stunned and scared)

Me: Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I'm totally kidding. Oh my god!

Boy: (backing slowly away) heh heh

Seriously people. When are they going to come a drag me back to the depths of the swamp from whence I came?

If my kids ever date, they are NEVER going to bring anyone home for dinner. Ever!

...And with my neighbor.

So here I am, sitting in the food court of SuperTarget with the monsters, because I wanted a soft pretzel and the biggest Coke they make and you KNOW I can't get something for me without getting something for them and they decide to eat lunch - spaghettios. I always try to get them to just take it home and eat it, but Monster #1 likes to eat out in public (instead of saying something like "Mommy, can we go to McDonald's for lunch" he'll say "Mommy, can we have lunch in public today"). Anyway, one of my neighbors comes in to get a Icee for her son and sees me.

Now, I have only lived here for about five months and I have just seen her at like bunco and the neighborhood picnic and we were on a committee together to plan the neighborhood Halloween shindig. So, I don't really know her very well, but she is really nice.

I am trying to talk to her about her upcoming trip to Cancun (her husband's company sends them every year and they pay for EVERYTHING!! The bitch.) and how my mother-in-law is moving to the 'hood, etc. Monster #1 decides he has to stand at my elbow and keep poking me and whispering things he thinks I should tell her. This gets old preeeeeetty quickly.

Me (to my neighbor): Excuse me a moment

Me (to Monster #1): If you don't quit bugging me and go sit down and eat the rest of your Cheetos I'm going to take of your shoe and your sock and start biting off your toes until you do.

Monster #1: grumble grumble grumble (all the way back to his seat)

My neighbor (looking at me with a concerned look): Uh.....

Me: Oh, I wouldn't actually bite off his toes. His feet stink WAY too much for me to get my face that close to them.

My neighbor (mustering up a watery smile): Oh! Uh... of course. Well, we really need to get going.

I REALLY think I'm going to fit in here.

Talking with the monsters...

Monster#1: I love you the whole universe, Mommy.

Me: I love you MORE than the universe.

Monster#1: Well, if you took all the hearts in the world and put them in a robot, I would love you more than that.

Me: (laughing) That is AWESOME honey! I love you!

Monster #2: I love you too, Mommy.

Me: And I love you Gremlin.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Waaaah waah WAAAH waah waaaah

My life is a Charlie Brown cartoon. Okay, not the whole cartoon, just the parts where Chuck is in school. I am the teacher, you know, the voice that the only thing you hear is "Waaahhh waahhh WAAAHHH".

I KNOW this is how my husband and kids hear me...

What I say: "Can you please turn that down?"
What they hear "Waaah waaahhh WAAAHH waaahh waaaaaah WAAAHHHH?"

What I say: "Honey, Can you grab the kids' jackets?"
What he hears: "Waahhhh, waahh waahh WAHHH WAAAAAHH WAAAHHHHHHH?!!"

(Also unheard - sound of head pounding on wall in background)
Husband: "What's that red mark on your head? You breaking out or something?"
Me (under breath): #&#&&%!! FFF##&%***!!

Did I introduce myself? I have many names: laundry fairy, food wrangler, appointment bully, oh-great-giver-of-baths, anointed-pasha-of-errands, etc, etc, etc, (The last part spoken by Yul Brynner as The King in "The King and I" - "et-CET-er-ah, et-CET-er-ah, et-CET-er-ah" including dismissive hand waive.)

Oh my little family, if you only knew what lurks below the surface........

And, no, I did NOT get up at 7am today. So bite me.

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Secret Identity

So a little while ago, the monsters and I were playing games on (THEY were playing, I was doing a little isometric exercise called 32-pounds-pounds-of-kid-on-one-leg-and-43-pounds-of-kid-on-the-other). And we run across a little gem called "The Riddlers Secret Identity Inventor". So we give it a whirl.

Monster #1 is "The Scourge" and Monster #2 is "Sizzler" (yes I too could hear Eddie Murphy chanting "We're goin'to Sizzler! We're goin' to Sizzler!"). Daddy is Mr. Sinister.

If I put in "Mommy", I'm Dr. Goodnight, but when I put in AJ, I'm "Berzerko".

Ah, the hidden truths that are waiting to be found in the strangest places.

Karma - ain't it a bitch

Aaah, February 1st! The start of a whole shiny new month! I don't know about you, but I treat the start of every new month the way most people treat January 1st. That's right, it's Resolution time (note the capital R). My grand and optimistic resolution for February is (drumroll please) to get up at 7am.

What??!! That is a REALLY HARD one for me! I am a stay-at-home-mom/slug who doesn't get out of bed until both of the monsters are chanting "Breakfast! Breakfast! Breakfast!" so obnoxiously that I either have to feed them or kill them. And let's face it, pouring two glasses of juice (not the SAME juice, mind you - god forbid they both drink the same kind) and two bowls of Honey Nut Cheerios (because I draw the line at making different breakfasts) is MUCH easier than trying to bury two bodies, no matter how small they are. It is winter after all and that ground is HARD!

(intermission - I am listening to internet radio and I would just like to say, how could you NOT like Supertramp? Come on! And Men at Work too! How can you not like Men at Work? I'm down with anyone who can put "vegamite" and "zombie" in the same song.)

Okay, so on your average weekday, we roll down to breakfast about 9 (the official breakfast hour of lazyasses and hung-over people worldwide). After about half an hour of refereeing table skirmishes, fast-forwarding Scooby Doo through any and all commercial breaks (see accolades for TiVO below) and reading the Scene section of the paper (including a good amount of eyerolling at the ball-less clueless wonders who write into Dear Abby) I meander into the family room for about an hour of TiVO'd yoga.

Oh TiVO! Oh TiVO! What did I ever do without you? TiVO should be a gift from the hospital upon the birth of your first child, "Congratulations! It's a boy! And TiVO!" They are probably worried that the dads would drop the newborns on their heads in their rush to glomp on to the TiVO box.

I workout in my PJ's, because how much closer can you get to yoga attire than a skimpy skinny-strap tank and drawstring/elastic-banded pants? Somewhere between 10:30 and 11 I hit the shower. By the time I've hosed off, shaved/exfoliated, gotten dressed, put on make-up and beat my hair into a semblance of submission, it's the crack of noon and lunchtime. Then off to school to drop of Monster #1 (half-day Pre-K). If I go a little crazy and decide to tidy up or start some laundry somewhere along the way, I end up giving him the bum's rush at the curb to get out of the car before someone realizes I'm just wearing a jacket over my PJ's and driving in my socks.

All this leaving me to any errands I might need to run for after school (as "School Time" for Monster #1 is "Nap Time" for Monster #2 and "Computer/Blog Time" for mommy and I ain't messin' with that!). Afternoon, specifically late afternoon, is the WORST time to run errands with small children. So I'm basically screwed there.

So, you are now seeing the beauty of my "up at 7am" scheme. I could go down and get my workout done before breakfast, which itself would probably move up closer to 8 since the kids would no longer be laying in bed with me watching cartoons until hunger works it's way up to their vocal chords. And the planets would align and all would be right with the world - thoretically.

Needless to say, I have already biffed it. I can FEEL your stunned surprise and that revelation. I skipped the whole "dance of the snooze button fairy" and went straight to the shut off. Take the fact that it's freezing and add a little Monster snuggled up to me (since about4am) and my thimble full of will power is down to nil.

Here is where our friend Karma comes in.

First I get a package delivered (it was from philosophy - wah hoo!!) and I'm answering the door in my tiny tank with my nipples, which could be seen from space, going "What can we do for you?". THEN my dad calls (to tell me that my step-sister's daughter fell off her bike and broke not just one, but BOTH arms, and I'm telling him how my best friend was in a car-totaling accident when she was turned around backwards in the passenger seat holding a barf bag for her son and only the air bag kept her from flying out the windshield) further delaying the shower portion of our program. AND THEN my favorite neighbor pulls up in my driveway and sends her little Monster to the door asking if my Monster pack and I would like to join them for lunch.

So here I am at the door AGAIN, trying not to let my nipples terrify her son - or any passing cosmonauts - while trying to juggle the phone and keep the kinderbeasts from making a break for it. So I end up at Chick-fil-a (aka Mommy Central due to it's decent food, clean play area and free balloons) wearing my glasses (you know, the cheap frames I picked because "I'll never wear these out of the house") and my hair sticking up like I've been rode hard and put up wet (which considering that last night was Mommy's quality time with the Jacuzzi tub, um, I guess I kind of was). All the while I'm using my yoga quasi-flexibility to kick myself repeatedly in the arse and inwardly railing against the cosmic forces, "Why didn't I just get up at 7!!?? I would have been pretty and wearing pants that I didn't wear yesterday (so that now the ass portion looks like JLo wore them last)!! I swear!"

Karma, Karma, Karma. You sucka, sucka, sucka. Apparently there is some helping-little-old-ladies-cross-the-street in my future to even things out a little. Or even, more diabolically, maybe spending more time with the wee fiends and less time reading - drat it!

Oh yeah, and I'm getting up at 7 tomorrow, FOR SURE!!!