Should auld acquaintance be forgot?

And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And auld lang syne!

It's coming - the new year...2007...the big '07...a fresh start! Gone are my procrastinating ways! I have a clean slate people...a fresh outlook...

Yeah, who are we kidding? I say this every year. But THIS YEAR will be different! WHY? Why do I even begin to think that? Why do I need the flip of a calendar to clean more/say no more/eat better/drink more water/EXERCISE. I mean really, if I'm going to do it, if I actually have the willpower (HA) to do it, why am I not already doing it? Because I'm a lump, that's why. I've come to terms with my lumpiness. I don't like it, but I'm also too lumpy to change it.

But in the spirit of the season, here are some of my pitiful New Year's Resolutions...now young Julie would say that I'm setting myself up for disaster by not being more positive about them.
Blah-blah-blah-positivity...I get it...I'll add it to the list:

1. Be more positive (see? I can do this)
2. Be more positive about being positive (this is very important)
3. Be more organized. This includes but is not limited to: opening the mail every day and disposing of the junk, actually listening to messages on the answering machine, keeping an accurate calendar of activities, going to bed earlier and getting up on time.
4. Finding some sort of exercise. Does bowling count? I only do that once a week, though...so even if it does count, it's a pitiful workout to only do it once a week. Hmmmmm...
5. Establish vacation savings fund.
6. Keep house tidier. How gay does THAT sound? But it's true. It makes my husband crazy and it's not a bad thing - to actually pick up after yourself. Huh, who knew?
7. Be home more than one night in any given week. THIS will be a challenge...not in the winter months so much...I think I can actually pull it off...but when baseball starts I see problems.
8. More family dinners, actually sitting around a table. *gasp* what is the phenomenon of which I speak? I guess that goes hand in hand with actually being HOME.
9. Floss more regularly.
10. Figure out a way to ingest nasty-ass estrogen-reducing powder shit. *ick*
11. Convert my checking account/debit card into something that earns me points/miles/shoes...anything!
12. Drink more water (which may mean less diet coke, this could be a problem)

Okay...that's it for now. Just making that list makes me want to cry. It's exhausting...the thought of it all. But I can do it. I'm determined. DETERMINED. No..really...stop laughing at me and smirking and saying "yeah, right" - be POSITIVE damn you!

So - what are your resolutions? You know you have them...even when you know you won't follow through year after year like me - you still HAVE them. So spill it...I want to laugh at YOU.

Should I get in the hot tub? *yeah*

Will it make me wet? *yeah*
Should I get in the hot tub? *yeah*
Will it make me sweat? *yeah*
Well, well, well....

If you don't know this skit from SNL - get off my blog. Seriously...it's a classic. Ridiculously enough, it is one of my most quoted skits from SNL - and it is with great grief and sorrow that I mourn the loss of the the godfather of soul - Mr. James Brown. Now I know, I know he had his share of troubles and run-ins with the law...and I know he was *ahem* out of his fucking mind...but I love him. No, not like I would marry him, I am not THAT crazy...but Sex Machine? Papa's Got a Brand New Bag? Living in America? Love it all...so today, dig down deep in your soul and let out a whopping "Heeeeeeeyyyyyyy" for the man.

Deaths come in threes - and with the passing of former POTUS Gerald Ford, lots of people should be worried - who will the next one be??? I'm looking at you, Mark Burnett, you tastless soul-sucking, reality show creating maniac. Or no, better...we could just rid ourselves of K-Fed...he's one baggie away from some kind of overdose, I'm sure. Their off-ing Saddam inside 30 days, but I don't think a planned execution really completes the triad of famous deaths, do you?

Let's quickly 180 to a much happier subject. My oldest son is 14 today! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALEX!!! Yes, little Mooya himself is officially 14. At this point in the day 14 years ago, I was laying in a hospital bed holding my little blond baby sobbing because my mother was telling me that she couldn't come down because my uncle who was visiting from PA had just had a heart attack!!! So he was in the hospital and my mom couldn't abandon my aunt. He ended up having angioplasty and my mom was up the next day. Oh Alex, you were so cute then - what happened??? I kid, I kid....he's still adorable, even if he is growing taller than all of us.

How did you all do at Christmas? I cleaned up babies! 20 bottle wine refrigerator, Steelers blanket, tea kettle, books, pajamas...very happy girl over here. The boys were thrilled with all of their stuff...but Owen is confused. If Santa brought him the Nintendo DS...then how did Aunt Jen know to buy him a DS game??? Oh boy. I told him it was a lucky guess on her part since that was the a-number-one item on his list...he seemed to go with that. This may be the last year for a believer in our house...so sad...

Are you done shopping???

I'm looking at YOU, Jimmer. Well? Have you finished? The Kev-head wrapped all my presents and put them under the tree last night...there's quite a lot of them! Very exciting! It's taking every ounce of Christmas spirit I can muster to not check the mastercard online to see where he's been shopping. It's.killing.me.

Were you naughty or nice this year? Give all the details...use all the bad words.

I think mostly I was nice. Wasn't I? I don't think I can call myself naughty - there were definitely times when I was NOT nice - but naughty? Hmmmmm...

naugh·ty
1. disobedient; mischievous (used esp. in speaking to or about children): Weren't we naughty not to eat our spinach?
2. improper, tasteless, indecorous, or indecent: a naughty word.
3. Obsolete. wicked; evil.

Disobedient? Huh. I guess it depends who you're asking. If you're asking me, I'd say no. If you ask the Kev-head - he'd probably say I've had my moments. HA!

Mischievous? Well, yeah...that sounds like me. "playfully annoying" - it's like Webster's met me! Some might say I'm just the annoying part - well then I wouldn't be mischievous and therefore not naughty. So there. It's that playful part that gets me in trouble! Damn my golden retriever ways! ( I took one of those DISC, SELF whatever personality studies once - it said I was most like a golden retriever...I've never gotten over it. Well, they do have great hair!)

Improper? Tasteless? Indecorous? Indecent? Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes/No. Like I haven't been exposing myself or anything, but I have been vulgar, and maybe even rude....DEFINITELY vulgar. Shocking, I know.

Good thing that wicked and evil part are obsolete - I mean, I saw Wicked this year? Does that count? Okay, that was stupid. It's early...I've already eaten a plate of food that could feed a small third world country. I'm a little loopy this morning. But we get to leave at 3 today...hooray!

Anyway, I think given some review, I guess I have been naughty this year - just not in THAT way. Geez...pervs. I've been naughty by very definition. Can I just say I've been both naughty AND nice? Do they offset each other and make me neutral somehow? Or have I been nice enough to erase some of the naughty? Does my work with the church offset my vulgar (and perpetual) use of profanity? Does my work with the cub scouts offset my improperly loud belching around the house? Does my blog therapy offset the mischievous torturing of my children with Saturday morning disco music and never-ending teasing? (and it is MIS-che-vus, NOT mis-CHEE-vee-us, just so you know)

So I guess I haven't decided anything. Maybe I've been the perfect mix of naughty AND nice this year. Doesn't really matter - I still got presents! Chick-chick-boom! MRA3=DORK.

Festivus, part deux...

Now is the time for the "airing of grievances" against whom that I don't actually know.

Jude Law. Damn you! Damn you Jude Law for making me fall out of love with you for your wretched undertakings with the nanny. And then? Then you make me fall right back in love with you in The Holiday. I was over you! I was done. And now I'm right back on that crazy train called love.

Parents who won't shut their pie-holes at the Christmas Concert. You know, I get it. I'm a social creature by nature. So I'm really sorry that some of you only get out of your houses when there is an event at the school. This is not my problem. Meet your girlfriends for coffee. DO NOT sit there while I'm trying to *ahem* enjoy the Christmas carolings of our youth and review your entire pathetic lives. I swear I will go all WWE on your candy asses and grab those folding chairs and beat you down.

Man (or woman) in the green pick-up truck. Double yellow lines mean no passing. I'm really sorry that I wasn't driving fast enough for you through that NEIGHBORHOOD near a PARK when the school busses are out picking up children. I'm not sure what was so damn important that you had to pass me like you were on fire, but the karmic payback was that you ended up in front of me at the red light and then we followed a truck pulling a huge piece of construction equipment all the way up Merrillville Road. HA!

Christmas shoppers. You know what people...it happens on December 25th EVERY YEAR. You could, in fact, start EARLY. But no. You have to wait until the last damn minute and then rush around everywhere trying to pack it all in and make traffic on 30 complete hell. And then? Then you are in such a rush that you don't know what you're doing, so you make an illegal u-turn in front of the Meijer and cause a major accident stopping traffic for miles. Seriously. Get it together.

Jamba juice creators. You, you with your weeee beady eyes, putting chemicals in your juice that make me crave it fort-nightly! Damn you jamba juice!

Clothing manufacturers. Have you ever seen a real woman? Do you know how to make clothes fit a real woman? Do you know how to use fabrics that don't actually shrink two sizes after one washing?

Teenage girls of the world. You're young. And looking "older" doesn't require exposing skin and wearing too much make-up, despite what your publicity role models display. They will all eventually end up in rehab. Do you want to end up in rehab? Then keep flaunting those muffin tops in jeans that are far too small for you.

Phew...I feel even MORE betterer than I did yesterday! This festivus deal is kick ass! Whaddya got, bloggers??? Air those grievances...quick!

"A Festivus for the rest of us!"

And so, as is traditional with Festivus...it is time for
THE AIRING OF GRIEVANCES...

Now - for those of you that don't know the history of Festivus, get off my blog. Or, in the spirit of the holiday, you could go here and read all about it. For some of you, this may be hard to take, because I'm going to publicly air my grievances with you. Suck it up, Sally - here we go.

First let's define grievance so we're all clear:
a wrong considered as grounds for complaint, or something believed to cause distress
Good? Good.

Eileen. This one is very near and dear to my heart, so I'm going to purge it first. Quite simply, you're a Diet Pepsi drinker. Now I realize that you have a lot of other extremely redeeming qualities, and so you are still my BBFF.

Jbrave. You complain too much about my blog being too long and "I don't have time to read it." P-shaw. You're not MAKING time to read it! Get on the train, sistah! Sometimes I'm longwinded (sometimes? Okay, a lot...but still!) ... but it's still worth the read. Well usually. Sometimes not. Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah, you must read the blog more regularly.

Tigger. You? You got yourself knocked up (okay, that didn't sound so good...I mean you are, after all, married and trying to conceive a wonderful spawn of love with the hubby)...but seriously? Just before the next "Keg Security" party??? Honestly...your redemption is that you will have this baby cooked by the time we'll want to be drinking on the porch. And while I'm at it...I'm airing the grievance of you being on maternity leave during the summer months while I'M AT WORK. Simply not cool. And the lurking? Has to stop.

Jimmer. Where the hell are you man? "My computer has a virus..." Wah. Wah wah wah. Blah blah blah wah-cakes. I mean, you were a GUEST BLOGGER and now...phhht. Nuthin. Get the shit fixed and get your ass out here. We miss your wit and ever so clever use of tags.

Sugar Snap Pea. Your general happiness is unnerving. You and your "I'm getting married" and your great deals on furniture. The nerve! And then to top it off you're all happy about not being in an office any more while the rest of us churn away like Dilbert want to kill "the pointy haired man." You know I love you, but I have to air this grievance. Phew! I'm feeling so much better!

Young Kathy. You're my work wife and you know I love you. BUT you're enabling of my bad behavior has to stop. I mean seriously, it's one addiction after another with you. First thai food...then Heavenly Ham...Rob Thomas...Ani DiFranco...OH YEAH - you totally got knocked up and burned me, too! There was that concert we were supposed to go to and be all militant and female...and then phhhhhht. Nuthin. Now there's Jamba Juice and ebay. You are single-handedly killing me.

Joy. This is a tough one...you are the mother of my best friend, so I find it difficult to yell at you. But I'm on a roll....so here goes...ummmmmm....huh...I got nuthin. So I guess THAT's my grievance. Yeah, I'm complaining that you give me nothing to complain about. so there.

Mega_joker. Two words. Spell check. Now I love you like you're my very own sister...wait, that's not a compliment. I love you like you're Julie's very own sister...but seriously?? Seriously. You are killing me.

My adorable loving husband, Kev-head. Your complaining about my use of swear words has to stop. I talk like a truck-driver. I blog like a truck-driver. I pick up lot lizards like a...wait...no I don't! Who am I kidding? But honey, I cuss. Get over it.

Carol. You live too far away and you're not coming for Christmas this year. I pout in your general direction.

Scottish. I have boobs. I talk about boobs. In general...boobs are a popular topic amongst most men and women...except you. You need to find your inner boob and learn to love to talk about it.

Lurkers of the world. Use your words!

Those who are not named. This means you're CLEARLY not commenting enough for me to have a grievance with you. Fix this immediately.

And so ends the airing of grievances. At least for me. Whaddya got? Bring it. I can take it.
And when that's done, we move on to the Feats of Strength, where the head of the house is wrestled to the floor and pinned. It's my blog. I'm the head of this nuthouse. Come and get me...if you dare....Bwah ha ha ha........

Schadenfreude...

Pronunciation: shahd-n-froi-duh
Definition: satisfaction or pleasure felt at someone else's misfortune.

This word was brought to my attention by a former co-worker, and having Julia and Tiffany with their love of the German language, I thought this was an appropriate word to bring to the blog. Especially at this time of year ...

Doesn't sound like the giving spirit? Well, suck it. Because you know as well as I do that people are NOT nice around the holidays. Everyone acts like they're the only people trying to decorate/prepare their house/make meals/buy gifts. The gridlock on 30 is proof that everyone feels like their agenda is the only one, so pardon me while I experience a great deal of schadenfreude at the guy who gets stopped by the longest red light after refusing to let people in...or the lady who cuts you off in the checkout line who gets her credit card denied. Good holiday fun, right there, people!

Oh c'mon - my karma is fine...they screwed me! Should I really be ashamed of myself for overly enjoying their karmic payback??? You've all done it - you've all seen someone get theirs. It's brilliant isn't it? And now we have a word to describe what we feel. Say it with me...schadenfreude, schadenfreude, schadenfreude...it's funny. It's like a big funny hat.

Redemption is also mine at the Kev-head - there's a store called "hot topic" in the mall - lots of cool t-shirts/goth-wear ...what-have-you. They have a t-shirt there that's yellow and just says "I *heart* Nachos." It's BRILLIANT. I so wanted to buy it for the boys, but Kevin poo-pooed me. Well, the boys and I stumbled into the mall on Sunday and guess what...they BOTH loved that shirt. HA! See Kev-head! So now I must go buy it for one of them. AND they're having a sale, buy one get one half off...I might just get myself the one that says "Will work for Tacos." But then my boss might get some freaky salary ideas.

Julie and I were completely outta control Saturday night as we closed down the Kohl's. That's right people - we were party ANIMALS! But we did see a great chick flick - The Holiday. Thanks for the recommendation, Eileen! Kathy joined us and the three of us girls thoroughly enjoyed a movie that would make our men want to light themselves on fire.

So give my your best schadenfreude ... dying to hear...

Can you really blame your son for being a ditz, when YOU'RE the cause?

Oh me oh my-o ... usually I'm here rambling about my youngest child ...but today, today I have things I simply MUST get off my chest about the oldest. Dear Lord. Now those of you that know him know him as the shy quiet type...doesn't say much...lurks about...and then crawls off to watch tv/read a book/play video games. But some of you have had the rare opportunity to actually interact with the child, and he is quite funny (see mooya's blog).

He's a very bright boy - he really is. Great story teller, loves to read, great memory when it comes to well, useless information. And this is where he is just.like.his.mother. That bitch. She can't remember a damn thing! Would lose her head if it wasn't attached. You can tell her something and 5 seconds later she will forget to do it. It's why the lazy sack relies on email. Oh sure! She can remember obsure lines from cult classic films...and she can tell you everything she's eaten for lunch in the past 3 months, and heaven forbid she forget the name of a good wine...NEVER! But ask her if she can remember to pick up dog food/cat food/toilet paper/something for dinner...not so much. Brilliant.

So Alex is just like me in this regard. Poor bastard. Never had a chance and never saw it coming. As you recall, fabulous NYC trip ended with Pittsburgh for Gram's 90th. And of course, being a family event, we had to bring the kids. And the kids had to be entertained. So they checked out library books. And actually read them! But when we go to pack up the car, Alex isn't sure where his book is...Kevin thinks he put it in the "entertainment bag." (which if we DIDN'T bring the kids conjures up all sorts of images...but since we DID...it's just a duffle bag full of video games, movies, books, etc. Dirty minded souls.) So we leave the Bentleyville Best Western and head for home.

Flash forward to Monday - when I was in my funk - remember that? Yeah, Alex picks THAT day, one week after we've been home to ask me if I ever found his library book. Ummmmm, what? It's been a week and you're just now asking? I assumed that when you didn't ask again after we left PA that you had found it. No. and it's due when? Wednesday. Brilliant. So I call the Best Western and sure enough, they've got it. Luckily my uncle drives all over delivering precriptions to the elderly and shut in, so he was able to pick it up. You don't ask until a WEEK later?

I wouldn't be telling you about this except...
Last night was Christmas shopping night. In order to save on driving and time, we didn't go home first - we made arrangements for Owen, grabbed Al and stayed up north. He went with us to a few stores, mostly we just told him not to be near us so he wouldn't see anything and we left it at that. Then he got bored so we dropped him at Barnes & Noble for some soda and a magazine. He's very happy with this plan. We leave him with money and a phone so he can contact us if need be.

We finish our shopping and we're heading back to B&N - Kevin first direct connects Alex on my phone. He's not answering. So I say - he probably doesn't know what to do with that - you should call him. So he does. No answer. Ummm, Al? By now we're approaching the B&N...as we drive by, I can see him in the windoww, sitting there, reading a magazine. Why aren't you answering the phone???

Kevin goes in and as soon as he hits the door he can hear the Nextel alert going off. As he gets closer to Alex, he confirms that yes it is, in fact, my phone in ALEX'S POCKET going off. Kevin says "Alex - why aren't you answering the phone? Can you not hear that?"

"Yeah, oh...that was me? I thought it was somebody else's phone"

OMG. It's been going off since we left the mall. Everyone in the place was probably ready to KILL him...and he doesn't even think to CHECK to see if it's the phone in his pocket making noise. Heaven help me.

There's another bonehead stunt that's recent, too, but I can't think of it right now. I'll let you know when I do.

Get the funk outta my face...

Okay, okay...funk's over. I feel better today. I think it was the holiday blues combined with my SAD. You have it, too, don't you? I mean have you looked outside? Dreary, overcast, drizzly...blaaaaaah. How's a girl supposed to pick up her attitude without a little sunshine? I deal with my seasonal affective disorder every year to some extent, but usually not this early. At least today it's not cold, so that helps. I actually thought about purchasing one of those sun lamps last year. I wonder if that really works? I mean, they say it works, but really? A lamp of sunshine rays to improve your mood? It sounds a bit Minority Report for me...but who knows. Can't you just see me sitting at my desk with those goofy tanning glasses on? Wouldn't that be fun? Maybe I should seriously consider this.

So I got to get really mad about the school board last night - that helped redirect some of my aggression away from the stupidity of my husband's family's method of handling Christmas this year...and then I came home, had some wine, watched the Bears...or tried to...but I fell asleep. Whoops. They were winning by quite a bit when I finally crashed. I guess Grossman looked good - but I still don't think they'll make it, kids.

I got mad, I had wine, I got sleep, I woke up this morning and picked up the house a bit since the lovely ladies that clean my house are at my house right now. YES! Now THERE's a spirit lifter! Oh stop it! Yes, I have people clean my house. Scottish is up there in Michigan talking about how borgeouis I am. Whatever! It takes two women 6 hours. SIX. That's a total of 12 hours. It's a big house! Have we talked about this before? Anyway...my house will be clean and Kev-head and I are going Christmas shopping tonight. I have a list of items and places to get them, so I think we're ready to go go go. Now we'll see if the holiday crowds and traffic can manage to suck the life out of me. I have at least one cocktail stop planned...so maybe we can get through. Maybe I should plan a 'to go' cocktail as well. Hmmmm, that could make it better. Or maybe it will just make me tired. Well we can't have that, I have things to do and right now I'm actually motivated to do it! We'll see how long it lasts. I've got decorating and cookies planned for tomorrow night, bowling on Thursday and the final decorating/cookie touches on Friday.

I've ordered my Christmas cards and I can pick them up from Costco tomorrow...brilliant! See? I'm on a roll...be proud of me. Remind me to tell you the story of the library book..it's no cookie story but it's pretty good.

Tis the season...

For shopping and whatnot. Well I guess I've been more involved with the whatnot...because my shopping has been non-existent. I don't know what's wrong with me. I was really gung-ho to get my outside lights up, but the inside of the house? Nuthin. I just have no energy for it. What is my problem? My get up and go has well...gone. I don't feel like shopping, I don't feel like decorating, I don't feel like listening to Christmas music. I don't feel like anything.

Huh. How are you guys with the holidays this year? Why am I so bummed?

I have a couple of presents...not many. I have a list a mile long. I guess one of the reasons I'm pissed off at Christmas is this: my husband's family. They can suck the life and intention out of things. Kev-head has 3 sisters. Two sisters have two kids, one has 3 kids and we have two kids. Ordinarily Christmas Eve at their house is a frenzy. Presents flying everywhere, wrapping paper everywhere and children crying everywhere. It's mayhem. But the food is good and I usually bring a good bottle of wine so whatever. But this year? This year everyone is broke for various reasons. I can't begin to go there because then words like "hillbilly" and "selfish" and "grow up" will come flying out of my mouth before I can stop them, and it will make me sound even more bah-hum-bug than I already do.

So this year they've lowered the acceptable dollar amount for all of the cousins. I am fine with this. BUT - they've also decided that it's too hard to ask for a list and then go out and find whatever it is that the nieces and nephews want...so I'm supposed to buy gifts for MY OWN KIDS from THEM. Yes, that's right. Three gifts for Alex, three gifts for Owen, WRAPPED, and listed as being from each of the aunt & uncle teams. Whodawa? Really? Seriously? Is this what Christmas is about????? I always hate giving money or whatever anyway, and I totally understand wanting to give the kids what they want. But doesn't this sound like a horrible idea? Just giving them stuff so they have something to open?

Anyway that left a bad taste in my mouth to start, and then I bought Kev-head the perfect gift only to find out that he already got himself the very same thing on clearance somewhere and I didn't know it because it was stuffed in a closet. Now I have to return what I have and it's a pain.

I just need some wine and some shopping, I guess. Maybe when I start crossing things off my list I'll feel better.

Midwest girls...are we really a rare breed?

So my new television addiction is the show "My Boys." What? You've never heard of it? Stop reading my blog. Go to tbs.com and watch all of the episodes....

Now.

I'm waiting...
well, you can watch them unless you're Julie...who's mad at me because I sent her an email quoting some fun stuff from the show and she can't watch it and blah-blah-blah...pitycakes.

Anyway, I got turned on to the show because one of my favorite comedians, Jim Gaffigan, is on it. He's the "Beyond the Pale" "Hot Pockets" guy. Funny, funny stuff there folks. If you've never heard of HIM, google him. He's from Chesterton! How fun is that!

The show is basically about a girl who is a sports writer for one of the Chicago papers, so the whole thing is set in Chicago, which is also cool, since most shows are in NYC or LA or Miami or whatever. So she's a sports writer and all of her friends are guys...one is her brother...and she's basically this tomboy. It's got some great one-liners...I'm giving it a permanent place in my DVR line-up, though I can always just watch the eps online (yes, Julie...that was another stab at you).

It got me to thinking - I identify a lot with this girl. And I think a lot of my friends can also identify with her. She's very very midwest to me. Midwest girls are kick ass. We are no nonsense, we like our sports, we drink beer from the bottle or a can. I think we're pretty cool, don't you? My husband would say we all have "macho woman syndrome." Are we really different? Are these truly midwest traits? I know girly girls from the midwest, too, and some would argue that I'm kind of becoming one. But I'll still drop f*bombs like they're hot. Ironically I just got this email in my inbox as I was typing this...a Jeff Foxworthy tribute to Chicago. One of the lines is:
If you carry jumpers in your car and your wife knows how to use them, you live in Chicago. Really? Women using jumper cables is a midwest/Chicago thing? Is that a slam on the vehicle we drive or the fact that the women know how to use jumper cables? Huh. I don't know. But either way, I know how to use them, do you? My dad wouldn't let me get my driver's license until I knew how to use jumper cables and how to change a tire. Just wouldn't let me.

And then THIS just happened in my office. We use this phone company, right...they do our inhouse wiring and whatnot...well they have a new kid...a new boy...a new boy that is, well, how should I put this delicately...eye candy. He's young...early twenties...and he comes in with one of those Simon Cowell super-tight t-shirts on, and lemme tell ya, it was fitting him well. Whatever. I'm old, I'm married. But the girls here? OMG - I saw them chittering in the hall and I said, "the eye candy is in the server room girls, but he'll be around" - the place went nuts. Girls were giggling EVERYWHERE. I couldn't believe it. I was walking around shushing them. One girl said "geez, you'd think we'd never seen a man before" - it was like that cartoon. A Maaaaa-aaan. *insert bulging eyes here* It was like a locker room of high school boys ogling a centerfold. It was embarrassing to say the least. Is that a trait of midwest girls? Openly ogling? I don't know...what do you think?

A little sleep goes a long way...

I was in my bed tucked in like a bug in a rug by 10pm last night. This.never.happens. Usually at 10pm I'm changing over laundry, putting stuff in the dishwasher, checking Owen's homework. But never...ever am I tucked into bed. Going on Pea's theory that I could be coming down with something after my jetsetter trip to NYC, I decided I should try and get some sleep. Kev-head was at some Ducks Unlimited dinner, the boys were in bed...the plan was brilliant. I think I actually fell asleep before 11 - Kev-head came home and almost burst my sleep bubble. Because, you see, I am my mother's daughter. In so many ways as we've discussed before...but this one is a killer. If I get to the point where I'm in that hazy, almost asleep not really awake point? Don't touch me, don't talk to me, don't look at me, hell...don't even THINK about me. Because if you do, and I wake all the way up? I'm done. No sleep for me. It's all over and a good night's rest is just a dream. HA! Get it? Just a dream?

Okay, so it wasn't THAT good. Anyway...

Luckily I wasn't quite on the bubble, so when Kevin came home, I could drift off fairly quickly. Plus I was determined. Plus I was exhausted, as we discussed yesterday.

I did wake up once - which is also strange for me. But I was all bundled up having been freezing all night long - and at 4 am - I was on fire. Now I know our digital thermometer thingy isn't set to blast heat at 4am, so I don't know what was going on, but I had to strip my sleepy socks and my sweater (yes, it's true, in the winter I sleep in a cardigan, I'm truly that cold. Kevin is a lucky, lucky man, I say)

Owen and I had this whole conversation about sleep last night...he said that night before last he woke up at 11pm and then again at 3am. And then last night (actually yesterday morning) he woke up at 6am and thought "oh great, I can sleep for 30 more minutes" - only that 30 minutes went by like *snap* that and Alex was shouting "Owen! Are you awake??? OWEN! WAKE UP!" and he felt like he didn't get 30 more minutes, he only got like 2 more minutes. So disappointing. So he asked me what the worst wake up I've ever had is...

Huh. That's a tough one. Thoughts of late nights drinking and having to get up for work came to mind, but I don't think that's an appropriate conversation for my 9 year old. So I said something about everytime I wake up 30 minutes before my alarm goes off being the worst wake up ever...and he agreed. Much healthier conversation for us.

What's your worst wake up story?

PS...check out Alex's blog - sometimes he's funny.

Oh for the love...

So it's the holiday season. Can we say ho-ho-hormones...not what you were thinking? Well then, too bad for you.

My trip was fantabulous, as I'm sure you've all read. But for some reason I cannot recover from this. I was no more or less busy than I usually am, just a different location. And instead of running kids here and there, cooking dinner and doing laundry, I was dashing all over Manhattan. But still no more or less busy than usual right? So why am I so friggin' exhausted?! Is it because I have so many pregnant friends? I'm vicariously exhausted for them? (And seriously, they're all having GIRLS!) I mean honestly, I could put my head on this desk right now and be out like a light and DROOLING within minutes...minutes I say! I get tired...everyone does...but this is beyond that. It's like a haze. What the shit is going on? Jet lag? I DROVE the last two legs of that journey and the time difference was only an HOUR. But I was reading up on jet lag, because everyone talks about it, but I didn't really know what it is and I found these interesting pieces of information:

Jet lag is: fatigue and disorientation (check); broken sleep (check); confusion/fuzziness (check); becoming uptight (CHECK); dehydration (check) and some other things that are involved with the actual flight process. I think I have delayed jet lag. DJL. That's me...that's what I have.

Causes of jet lag: Your pre-flight condition -
If you're over-tired, excited, stressed, nervous, or hungover before the flight, you are setting yourself up for a good dose of jet lag. How many times have you heard travelers say "Don't worry, I'll catch up on the flight"? Well you don't. The wise traveller who wants to get the most out of a trip has a good night's sleep prior to departure.

Ummmm, yeah - I had so much trip anxiety over this that I dreamt I missed my flight because I simply forgot to leave the office on time AND THEN my computer caught on fire. ON FIRE, people. Because THAT happens all the time! And the man who owns my company was of course, standing right there when it happened. Anxiety much? Yeah, I thought so.

And then I also read this:

Alcohol
The impact of alcohol on the body is 2-3 times more potent when you're flying. One glass of wine in-flight has the effect of 2-3 glasses on the ground. Add this to the other problems mentioned here, and you can get off the plane with a huge hangover that simply compounds the effects of jet lag.

Really? REALLY? One glass = 2-3 glasses?? Why did I not know this before? I really haven't flown all that often, and I'm not a big drinker when I do. Usually a beer while I'm waiting, maybe a beer in flight. I don't want to have to go to the bathroom. I was tramatized the first time I ever used an airplane bathroom so I try to avoid it if at all possible. But I know some people who get absolutely LOADED on the plane which means they are, in reality, super DUPER loaded. Who knew? Did you know this?

So I'm exhausted, and maybe I am jet lagged (is that a word?) because my head is a mess and I can't keep my eyes open (even after coffe and diet coke...isn't that SAD?) And now is the time when my hormones decide that it's time to change things up a bit. Are you kidding me? I don't need this now. I'm bloated, I'm crabby, I just might take a swing at you if you look at me funny. I'm snippy, I'm bitchy and I don't even really want to be around me, so you might not want to, either. I completely understand. You know what I need? Bowling night. That's the ticket. So maybe I don't have DJL, maybe I'm just a hormonal bitch. That's entirely possible I guess, seeing as I'm producing enough estrogen these days for the entire northern hemisphere. Do they sell testosterone in a pill form? Maybe that's what I need. Or maybe I just need sleep. Hard to tell. In the meantime this little treasure was emailed to me at just the right time. If you're wondering how to deal with me this week? Stick with the ultra safe option. Works every time.

Everything was FINE when I was in Manhattan...

It all fell to shit after that. I knew I should have stayed in NYC...what was I thinking??

So I try to catch a cab to get to Newark airport...no one will take me. I didn't really understand why. Until the 3rd cabbie comes along...he says he'll go, but the flat rate is $75. I ask him why it's so much more than the flat rate to LGA or JFK...he says it's because they can't pick up people in Newark, they're not licensed for that. They can only pick up people in NYC. Whatever...I have a flight to catch!

We're off and running and traffic isn't bad and I got to drive through NoHo - MUST make it there the next time I'm in NYC. I really wanted to go this time, but there were just too many other things I wanted to do. When the ya-ya-s go to NYC, we're definitely going to NoHo....

I get to Newark in plenty of time for my flight, hit the Continental line, make it up there in a relatively short period of time, put my credit card in the kiosk and ... "I'm sorry, you have no flights scheduled with us at this time." Ummmm, what? So I ask the nice gentleman behind the counter to look into this...my flight has been canceled. CANCELED? Whodawa? "Something in Pittsburgh" he says...it's been rescheduled for 6:25am Friday. Okay, WHAT? There are no other flights leaving for Pittsburgh from Newark tonight. They've all been canceled. OMG. What you don't know is that Kev-head and the boys are circling Pittsburgh airport looking for a hotel so they can pick me up. Now I'm not coming. Oy.

I call the office trying to figure out what to do...Phil is looking up the different hotels around Newark for me...at first he reads the description of a Sheraton and says "they say they have a great wine list, you are SO there...but then suggests I rent a car. According to mapquest it's only 5.5 hours to drive it. And if the weather truly is the reason they canceled my flight, and there's worse weather on the way, I don't want to be stuck here tomorrow. I'm outta here babies!!

I rent a car with GPS - super cool. Actually I had no idea I was getting that...it was just there...so I programmed my desination...it's really brilliant. I've seen the commercials with the fancy cars that include it and thought "who would ever need that???" Ummm, yeah, the answer is me, right now, trying to get from Jersey to PA.

Natasha! I drove by Harrisburg and thought of you and your jewelry - aren't you having some sort of a show this weekend in PA?? I hope it goes well.

The drive went by quickly actually...everyone was calling me and entertaining me. Julie and I were on the phone for hours of the trip, she was paying bills and I was driving. The fun part of the drive? The tunnels. The highways are cut in under the mountains and you drive through these tunnels that are miles long. I didn't really know when they were coming and all of a sudden there's a sign "Remove your sunglasses" and then one that says "Turn on headlights" and I'm thinking...damn bossy highway....what the shit do they care about my suglasses or my headlights?? And then I come around a corner and BAM! tunnel. And BAM! I lose Jul.

I pull in to the Bentleyville Best Western at about 12:30...the kids are waiting up for me when I get here...we chat it up I give them some little presents I got them. And aaaaaaaaaggghhhhhh I can't get to sleep. I toss and I turn and I toss and I turn and well, you get it, right? I have no idea what time I finally fall asleep but it's late. And when I wake up in the morning I find that the closest Hertz return location is the friggin' Pittsburgh Airport! Gotta love SWestern PA...void of anything people might actually need. But okay...it's not so bad. We go over to Carol's and visit and eat lunch and off to the airport.

When we get back from dropping off the car, mom and Carol have brought Grandma back with them, so we get to visit some with grandma - who is 90. And will not stop telling you that she's 90, and how cool that makes her. She's hilarious about it actually. Good for you gram!

And when we get back to the hotel to let the boys swim and get ready to go have pizza with my cousins? No power. Well not none...almost none. No elevators, no lights in most of the hotel, front door propped open. Killing me. The manager says that some rooms have power and that basically we have to go upstairs and check and if we don't have power they'll move us to one that does. Well, you guessed it, ours doesn't. The good news? We're only moving across the hall, so at least that part was easy.

So...since I left Manhattan - expensive cab fare, canceled flight, 5.5 hour drive, no place close to return rental car, power loss due to wind in hotel. Why oh why did I leave NYC??? KILLING ME.

But so far the visiting has been good. We've got a great dinner planned for tonight for Grandma's birthday celebration...lots of relatives and food. Hoorah! Hopefully the restaurant will have a decent wine selection.

Hopefully the rest of the trip will be uneventful. The bad weather isn't here yet...it's just cold. It was 55 degrees when I woke up yesterday, but last night it was 32. This morning it's freezing as well, hopefully we don't get the snow and we can get out of here tomorrow. We'll see! What are you guys doing?

Mooooooooo...we were herded like cattle...

But it was all worth it. Totally worth it. I LOVE NEW YORK! I know...I'm starting to sound pitiful...but really, have you been here? Seriously. You must come. Bump out that silly vacay to Disney and come here. Despite the $15 martinis it'll probably still be cheaper than the money trap that is Disney. And there's just as many queens. HA! See? That was funny right there.

So class was class. I'm learning stuff. Whatever. After class I came back here, fixed some stuff at work, checked email...waited for 7pm to come because that's when I was meeting Lee Ann and Javier to go to the tree lighting. Now Natasha and several other people had told me "go early...these things tend to be a zoo in NYC." But Lee Ann had class, so there was no going early. "How bad can it be?" I thought to myself. Well, self...you're about to find out.

While waiting I remembered that adorable little red sweater coat in the window up the street. That would be perfect for my holiday evening, right? And it was only $20. A steal! So I hoofed it out door and went in search of my new sweater love. I can't wait for you all to see it. It's brilliant, truly. I'll be wearing it all holiday season, so you're bound to see it. I hook up with my pals and we're off. To the SUBWAY! Cha-ching! I'm now participating in the mass transit system of NYC. I love it! It completes my NYC experience. Shopping? Check. Overly priced drinks? Check. Limo ride? Check. Gay waiters? check.check.check.check.and check. Good food? Check. Mass transit. Check. Witnessing man peeing onto the street while in a phone booth AND talking on the phone? Check. Touristy tree lighting with 100,000 people? Check! When we came up out of the subway it was a wall of people. A wall. We weren't sure which direction to go. Javier wisely asked a police officer which way to the big tree. "Turn around and go back home, you'll see it on television." Said with a super thick cliched New York accent, by the way. Smart ass cop.

So we ignore him and go to where we think the tree is. There are metal barriers everywhere...you can't cross the street anywhere, you have to walk blocks out of your way just to get where you need to go. A mess. and then the way they had these barricades set up it was like we were a herd of cattle being led to slaughter. And then there was no where to go. It just stopped. We could see the sign for Rockefeller Plaza...we could even hear the music. But we were around the corner from the action, so we couldn't see anything...no tree, no lights, no stage. But from a distance I heard Taylor Hicks...he sounded great! Very fun. Slowly but surely people gave up on the cattle herd and were turning back and we inched and inched and inched our way up until finally BAM! We were in! It only took 45 minutes but I could finally see 'the tree.' Javier is on the phone with his mother and Lee Ann and I hear him say "Yeah, I'm here, I'm looking at it, it looks like a tree." Okay. Give the woman a little something! She's living vicariously through your experience and your description is 'it looks like a tree??' LA and I were dying. "What? it does look like a tree" is his only response.

I could see the stage. And I got to hear Sting and John Legend and Martina McBride and Sarah McLaughlin and Christina Aguilara. It was so great. And then the there was a countdown and the tree was lit and it was gorgeous. I have pictures...I'll share them when I get home. I really haven't been taking too many pics this trip. I guess I'm so used to taking pictures of other people when we're on vacation.

We leave the tree lighting, grab some McDonald's and catch a bus...MORE mass transit, hoorah! We head off to Proof, this karaoke bar with $1 drafts. Score! It's like being at Flannery's. We submit our karaoke songs and we're on our way. It was fun...cheap drinks, fun friends...perfect.

But then...then karaoke DJ turned into karaoke nazi. He wouldn't let me sing Bobby because he doesn't like Janis. He wouldn't let me sing Hard to Handle because people sing it all the time. Finally I said 'just play whatever you want me to sing'...we settled on Marvin Gaye. And then this little diva boy band wanna be was begging...BEGGING to sing another song. It's over. Karaoke nazi said so. No song for you. Sit down. You're not even good. Finally after talking to everyone involved with the karaoke he is granted his wish. To sing. Wait for it. 'More than words.' You're kidding me, right? And this...this is when I officially fall in love with Javier. While boy band is trying and not succeeding at belting out this sickly love song from the 90's, Javier is baritoning at the top of his lungs right.over.top.of.him. OMG. No microphone and completely oversinging him. LA and I are cracking up. Cracking up. Great moment.

So now I'm back in bed and really awake due to the DC I had with my mickey d's. And I apparently didn't have enough beer to counteract it. I think I'm on NYC overload. It's been such a great trip. And tomorrow I pack. *sniff*

Did I mention I love New York and I'm not coming home?

Yeah, it's so true. Seriously. SERIOUSLY.

So...I know you are all going to find this hard to believe, but I have actual, new, wonderful New York friends! Everyone say hello to Natasha!!!!! So here's the sitch...

After class I come back to the hotel...check in with the fam...have a glass of red...okay, you got me. Not a glass... a plastic cup. Oh don't you judge me! I'm staying in a hotel sans emenities for crap's sake. I have wi-fi - shut it. So anywho...I had a date with this fantabulous pair of patten leather mary jane's with a wedge heel ... and let me tell you...they were marvelous. BUT...they were also $128...and I can't spend that much money on a pair of shoes this close to Christmas. I CAN'T. Really. Can I? NO! Quit it...quit trying to justify it to me. Quit telling me that as much as I'll wear them they'll only cost pennies a day. Quit telling me how beautiful they'll be with that pair of pinstripe pants that are just.this.much.too.short to wear with my current heels. I can't buy them. Can't. So after that devastating blow I decide to go to Bryant Park for the holiday shopping.

It's kind of far from me...but I walk and catch up on calls...and get a pretzel...and then...then there was the rickshaw. Well, not really a rickshaw...but a guy with a bike and a trailer contraption. I had heard about these and thought I wanted to take a ride in one. At first I said no. But then...there he was at the stop light when I was standing there waiting. What was I supposed to do?? I had to jump in. Besides...better way to eat my pretzel. (which was yummy)

Bryant Park...shopping...ice skating. Nooo...not me...sillies...I'm not making a New York fool of myself! I was just watching the Smuckers stars on ice or some such shit....and shopping. Can't tell you what I bought...some of it is for Christmas. But then I had to pee. Sorry to drop it on you folks, but even I succumb to nature. So I walk all around Bryant Park...trying to figure out where I can go to the friggin bathroom. No porta-potties in NYC, peeps...I think they're afraid people will pull a George Michael on them. Whatever. So I walk all over looking for a restaurant or seriously a bush I can pee behind. Nothin. And then I see the Bryant Park Hotel. Hoity Toity as all get out, but I'm willing to try.

They have a bar downstairs called "The Cellar." Now it's not very big, it's a cozy joint. Little ottomon looking seats around low tables, very dark, candles lining the stairwell as you walk down. I order a French Martini thinking this will buy my way into the bathroom and hey...who doesn't need a cocktail while shopping??? I was expecting Chicago prices. $10 for a martini...not great, but hey it's the city, right? Wait for it...$15. Yeah, that's right. You heard me. $15 fucking dollars. For a DRINK. Are they serious? And the bartender with the overwaxed eyebrows didn't even bat an botoxed eyelash in my general direction asking for it either.

But this, this is where it gets good. Because this martini is the reason I met Natasha! She came in and sat down and asked me what I was drinking and the rest was history. She was there with her friend/former roommate Nader who was also fun. Nader is an IT consultant...Natasha has a history with IT...but now she makes jewelry. FANTASTIC jewelry. Why she didn't have a booth in Bryant Park is beyond me. She's every bit as good as they are!

Anyway...we get to talking and then we get into a cab and head off to some karaoke bar called Sing Sing run by some Asian people ( get it? Sing Sing?? Hilarious) to meet up with people who work with Nate...Ashley and Chris. Or Chris and Ashley... whichever. Anyway....we hop a cab and we're there and I sing and we have a total blast. TOTAL blast. New.best.friends. But this bar? There are private rooms. That you can rent. To have your own little private karaoke night. Ummmmm, what? It's crazy I say!

So now it's late...Natasha shared a cab part way home with me and there's a 24 hour burger place across the street that will probably give me botulism, but damn that was a good cheeseburger and cheese fries!

So now I'm off to bed and I still love New York. What are you guys doing?

LIVE from New York....

Hello there wonderful blogging family! Do I sound far away? Do I seem like I'm blogging with an accent? Well I should...because I'm all the way out here in NYC for a few days for training on our email firewall. It's very exciting, because much like Madonna I LOVE NEW YORK.

But first things friggin' last...
How was YOUR turkey day? Mine was fantabulous. Eating, visiting, more eating, walking, cards, eating, BOWLING. ooooooooo-rah! The bad news? Kev-head beat me in the series. Good news? I kicked everyone's ass in the third game. Yeah baby!

How about this unseasonably warm weather? I love this weather. We totally did major outdoor decorating this weekend. Got the house all Christmas-fied. It was beautiful out.

We're not even going to TALK about that Steelers game. It was painful. For Big Ben especially. Nine sacks? Nine times? I don't remember Ferris being sick nine times. That's because he wasn't sick Mrs. Bueller, he was skipping school. He's just leading you down the primrose path. I think someone's offensive line is sending someone a message. I'm looking at you, too, Rex...Mr. Shortypants...seriously. There will be no superbowl for the Bears this year kids, not behind Grossman. Believe whatever dilusion you want...but Brady showed you what a real quarterback, a three time superbowl winning quarterback does, and honey, you ain't even close.

So now we fast forward to today. Today I left for NYC. Today I'm playing on my laptop with my superfast wireless connection in my hotel room. But before I tell you that story, I have to tell you this one. I get off the plane and go to collect my luggage, which is there, thankfully, because I would have cried and cried had they lost my luggage. Five pairs of shoes, people. FIVE. I'm not seeing my house again until Sunday, so I had to pack heavy. Plus we're due for a weather change, and I don't know what to expect. So I get my luggage and go to investigate my options for getting from LGA to Manhattan. I can take a shuttle (I've done this before, they're crowded up little minivans that reek and the drivers are maniacs.) - this costs $20 and I have to wait 30 minutes, if I can catch the next one, because there are so many people waiting. Or I can stand in the taxi line - I'll have to wait almost an hour and it will cost $30-$35. While I'm walking to the end of the taxi line there's a man trying to get people to take his limo. He must see the completely devastated look on my face due to the taxi line, because he quickly approaches..."Going to Manhattan?" yes. "Where to?" 7th & 23rd. "$40." Really? That's only a little bit more than a cab and there's no wait. NO WAIT. I'm in. So are two other businessmen. Lovely. And I have my own personal limo at my beck and call should I want it. HA. He gave me his card and said, "Now you can call me if you need me and you have a friend in NYC." Of course I do!

I love New York. I have walked all over Chelsea tonight. I had some fantastic thai food. Walked through two different wine cellars, read the menus on a dozen different restaurants. I have scouted where I'm getting my morning coffee/diet coke. I know where my convention center is for class. I know where I'm buying this lovely mid-thigh length hooded red sweater for $19.99. I know I'm going to Bryant Park for the holiday shopping. (Plus it's where they hold Fashion Week...OLYMPUS FASHION WEEK, people. I must be in this park for awhile...I'm a slave to Project Runway.)

I befriended some gay waiters in the thai food place - big shocker there. I love it here. Seriously, Kevin...sell the house, cash in the IRA's - pack up the kids and by the time you get here I'll find a box for us to live in.

More from New York to come. I know Lee Ann (Julie's cousin) and I have plans to go to the tree lighting at Rockefeller Center on Wednesday and 80's karaoke night. Good times!

What I'm thankful for...

Okay, it's that time of year...and my readership seems to be dwindling down to nothing, but here goes:

What I'm thankful for, 2006

* I'm thankful for my blog readers, especially the peeps that comment, because that makes it more interesting. But I'm thankful for the lurkers, too.

* I'm thankful for my new work laptop, and that I was able to connect to my office via the free wi-fi at Panera bread....where I also just so happened to pick up yummy lunch.

* I'm thankful for my new bowling ball and Steelers bowling bag.

* I'm thankful for all of my friends, even the moons (you know who you are)

* I'm thankful I have children who are so independent, they can get up, get themselves ready for school and not think it's weird that they haven't seen or heard me at all in the morning. So much so that when Alex comes to the door and says "I'm going out to the car, mom" - he has NO IDEA I'm still in BED because I incorrectly reset my alarm clock after my darling husband unplugged it because he didn't know how to turn it off.

*I'm thankful that I live in the boonies where speed limits are seemingly optional so I can race him to school on mornings like I previously mentioned.

* I'm thankful for muscle relaxers, anti-inflammatories and physical therapists (yes, even the sadistic ones) - for making my shoulder a better place.

* I'm thankful for Principessa, Dry Creek, Robert Mondavi and King Estate, for perpetually making wine that I love.

* But mostly? Mostly I'm thankful that I'm sitting at my desk at my job, where I receive a paycheck, writing a silly list of things I'm thankful for, because my life is truly blessed, and I have room to make jokes. I'm fortunate enough to have a loving happy, healthy family and I'm surrounded by friends whom I love.

Happy Thanksgiving, yo!

It's been awhile...

First - I apologize to everyone for my extended absence. There are reasons, I assure you. One - I've been far too crabby for several reasons to even try to bring the funny. And two - I've had too much to say to know what to say.

But enough of my sissy girl whining! How are YOU? Eileen - I must apologize. I have had something here in a box to send to you for a couple of weeks now, and getting to the post office seems to be too difficult a task. It's coming, my sistah, I swear, no matter how ill-timed!

Everyone gearing up for my FAVORITE holiday of the year? Some of you lame-o's like Christmas for all the gifts and decorating and whatnot. Well you've got it wrong, my friends...Thanksgiving is where it's at! A holiday about FOOD, are you kidding me? Does it get any better? I think not. Oh sure, some of you could argue that it's a holiday about reflection and giving thanks (hence the name) but this, this is a holiday not tied to religion, not tied to Hallmark (even though they try and make it so) - it's tied to FOOD. Traditional food. Turkey and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and STUFFING - has bread EVER tasted so.damn.good??? My stomach is just grumbling thinking about it!

And this Thanksgiving is awesome because we're in Chesterton with my family this year which means TURKEY BOWLING!! Yes! I love bowling on Thanksgiving. It's brilliant. And it keeps with my bowling on Thursday night theme, so hopefully I won't be too off my game when I bowl with my team in 2 weeks.

AND the Steelers have won two weekends in a row babies! It's gotta be because I'm carrying my new Steelers bowling bag, which totally rocks.

Quick (maybe not so much) update:
The sock hop fiasco worked out better than I could have dreamed. Owen did slow dance with his not-girlfriend, and then got yelled at by her friends for putting his hand "too low." Brandon's girlfriend broke up with him by cussing him out on the dance floor for reasons that we do not know. Luke's girlfriend broke up with him because he's an unworthy boyfriend because he won't kiss her! The DRAMA of it all!!! I decided not to go, well, because I had $9,000 worth of popcorn to sort in my basement. But when I did show up and the boys acosted me with this information I looked at them all and simply said "Was it worth it?" They worried their little heads off about these fourth grade girls who are trying to be 16 year old girls and when all was said and done they decided it was the worst.sock.hop.ever. So I told them to start a new boys club, the kind that doesn't worry about girls. They seemed pretty happy about that.

So hopefully my laptop comes in today, kids, because I'm leaving on a jet plane Monday and won't see my house again until December 3rd. Four days in NYC - where I will get to see the lighting of the tree in Rockefeller Center. Bonus! Then off to Pittsburgh, PA for Grandma's 90th birthday and visiting with relatives. I haven't been 'home' since Easter, so I'm kind of excited to go back and visit with the fam.

Love you all like I would marry you.

'If I Did It, Here's How It Happened'

Are you kidding me? Are you fucking KIDDING me??? OJ has written a book, y'all, and he's on the interview circuit premoting it. It's really called "If I did it"... What's the sequel "Here's how the investigating team screwed up" - or is it "How I murdered two people and got away with it?" Holy mother - is he serious? I mean, first you murder two people, get acquitted in 'the trial of the century' and now you're going to put this family through further hell and write a book about a hypothetical situation where you might have been the killer??? I love our legal system, I do. I think it's gotten a bit perverse over the years, but overall I love it. But right now, this double jeopardy thing has got to go. There's gotta be a loophole, doesn't there? Something our forefathers wrote in there for instances like this??? Seriously?

I know most of my readership isn't reading due to a death in our blogging family's real-life family. So let's send good vibes (lurkers - this means you) to our blogging family in their days of sorrow. And also a shout-out to my lovely aunt recovering herself from medical procedures out in Mon Valley....the Steelers must have known you were hurtin' Carol - they won just for you on Sunday. ;)

Did you guys realize I'm old? OLD. Alex will be a FRESHMAN next year. in HIGH SCHOOL. Seriously. Can't handle it. We went to the open house at the local private high school and wowzers. Gotta say - it's impressive. I did a side by side comparison of the ISTEP scores for the last 5 years for my alma mater, Kevin's, Ben's, our local school and the private school...it's unbelievable. Sorry to say - Kev-head's is the worst. Way worse than North Newton, even. Yes it's going to cost us - and no, it wouldn't be easier just to move. Alex is excited. Coming out of an 8th grade class of 14 he was amazed by the size of the building!

Reading the new Barack Obama book - I'm only one chapter in, but I gotta tell ya - I love this man.

Goodness gracious great balls of fire!

Well, the maiden voyage of my new ball is over, and I have to say, the results were pretty good. As long as we don't talk about the second game, I'm good. Let's just pretend that one didn't happen. They took too long to get me my pizza bread, I was distracted...I was tired. Whatever.

Game 1: 133, Game 3: 154. I was very happy. Had to sand down my thumb-hole - and I still have more of that to do, I think. It's a work in progress.

Next week? Pajama night. Going to be a fun one. ;)

I want to talk to you all now about something near and dear to my heart. A subject I almost can't talk about without welling up. Britney and K-Fed. Or as they're now calling him K-Fed-Ex....or sometimes just Fed-Ex. Seriously? This is NEWS? Ummmm, let's see. Backup dancer with pregnant girlfriend, LEAVES pregnant girlfriend who already has one of his children for backwoods hilljack gum-popping blonde with a great rack. THIS is a Jerry Springer episode, not something that should be taking up days worth of space on CNN. So now this jackass has procreated 4 times...4 TIMES people! My favorite part? They made that stupid show together, so there's all this footage of their "love." Can you imagine? Pick an ex, any ex - now picture yourself in a reality television show with that person. Now you break up and THAT stupid fucking drunk shit is out there for all eternity. Did any of you SEE that mess? You think drunk dialing is bad? Try drunk TV show. Something for the kiddies later on.

Ummmmm, I'm starving this morning. I drove last night so I didn't have many beers, which means there was no need for my Friday morning grease run to Mickey D's. Nothing better than a sausage biscuit with cheese and a fountain diet coke to get your motor runnin'. I guess my body is used to Friday morning breakfast, because I am dying right now for that biscuit! Whoops, my bad.

Okay bloggers - this is actually important. What? I wasted all that time on Brit & biscuits and I actually had something of substance to say? Here we go. Owen wants a girlfriend. Kevin and I have repeatedly told him that he's too young to have a girlfriend. What's the point? He's in the 4th friggin' grade! His friends have girlfriends. Why do you want a girlfriend? we ask him. So he has someone to slow dance with at the sock hop. Okay. First of all - why are there slow dances at at elementary school sock hop??? Someone please explain this to me. And these mothers of these girls think it's CUTE when their daughters have these "boyfriends" and WEAR THEIR FOOTBALL JERSEYS AT THE DANCE. Excuse me? What? So let me get this straight. You want this girl to be your girlfriend, so you can slow dance with her and she can wear your football jersey. Yeah, I paid $40 for that jersey and I don't know this girl and she's not wearing it and she's certainly not wearing it home BECAUSE YOU'RE IN THE 4TH FUCKING GRADE. So what mother's are letting their sons do this? Do they just not know?

Unbelievable.

Houston - we have a ball!

It's Christmas! Seriously...I have a bowling ball! YEAH baby! Finally I made it to the pro shop when they were open and low and behold, they had a ball there just.for.me. Not too girly, really cool. And, as you may have guessed...I love it like I would marry it. It's going to sit VERY nicely inside my newly acquired Steelers bowling bag that Jimmer made fun of me for buying even though I didn't have a ball. Whatever. I do now. And tomorrow is bowling night. It's all coming together.

BRILLIANT.

BillSteveJimbo the pro shop guy was uber-nice, even if I'm pretty sure he thought I was strange.

"I need a bowling ball" I said.
"Great, what kind are you looking for? Something with hook, frizzle*, frazzle*...whathaveyou?"
"Ummmm....I don't really know about any of that. I need something better than the house ball I'm using now."
"What weight?"
"10 lbs."
"Really?"
Okay, I realize I might look beefy and strong , but I'm not...weakest arms ever. For real.
"Yes, I'm a sissy girl...everyone keeps tell me I should be throwing a 12, but I really can't"
"10 lbs it is"
I find the perfect sparkly, but not girly ball and he has it in a 10-pounder. BRILLIANT. He measures my fingers, my hand. Asks me if I want my NAME on it.
"How much extra does that cost?"
He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head.
"Nothing??"
"Yeah, nothing"
SCORE! Of COURSE I want my name on my ball! Who doesn't???
So he fits this shop ball with my thumb size and says "Okay sissy girl, this is a 13 pounder, use both hands and pick it up and see if that grip works for you."
I love this man.

All for the low-low price of $58. YES! Aaaaaaaand, he can do it while I wait. Super-double-score. AND I got a free game card. ROCKIN! If I wasn't on my lunch hour, I swear I would have bellied up to the counter and turned in that card and bowled a game with my new ball, even in my long black skirt. Can't you see it? Me rocking my new ball in my work clothes and rental shoes. Note to self, must keep shoes in car from now on, just in case I get the urge to throw a few frames. HA! Look at me making up the lingo. Good times.

So he gets done with the ball and he boxes it up..."anything else? You got shoes?"
"I have the rockingest pair of old school Dexters and I love them"
Needless to say, he just shook his head at me. But he laughed while he did it, so that's good. I shook his hand and told him he made my day and floated out of the pro shop. It's a beautiful Wednesday folks.

*these are totally made up - I have no idea what he said...buncha bowling mumbo jumbo. I don't want to discredit my totally awesome pro shop man

"Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their party..."

Google has failed me. I tried and tried to find the person that stated the above, and I cannot. The closest I came was a man named John Bartlett, but he wrote a book of quotes. So is the quote his or is it a quote from someone else? I have no idea. Field trip to B&N to see who is credited with the quote.

Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit's election day! Didja vote? Didja? Didja? Are ya gonna? Are ya? Well you SHOULD. I know it's cliche, but I don't care who you vote for, but you MUST vote. Seriously. This is AMERICA. A nation so great it lets it's people have a voice, so USE it. Even if there's only one race you care about vote that race! And don't forget your picture ID if you're here in Indiana, folks! (And it's so not true, I TOTALLY care who you vote for, but I'm trying to be nice. I could make you a list if you're confused.)

As usual - drama mama over here. They MOVED my polling place. Seriously? Seriously. As I'm pulling up to the church where I've voted for the last 5 years, there are no cars, no politicians, no nuthin. Ummmm, whodawa? And my cell phone is d.e.d. so I can't call anyone to see where to go. I vaguely remember receiving something in the mail about all 3 precincts voting in the same place...but hmmmmm...that piece of paper is probably in the stacks of crap on my kitchen counter and office desk along with junk mail and unpaid medical bills. Whoops. Oh stop it...those people are like spammers, I swear....they send me so much mail it's retarded.
"We're processing your bill"
"We've submitted your bill to insurance"
"We're waiting to hear from your insurance"
"We're still waiting to hear from your insurance"
"We just miss you and we're sending a note to say hi, and we're still waiting on your insurance"
"Your insurance called to say they might be sending a payment, but we don't know how much"
"Yet another piece of paper telling you we still don't know how much you actually have to pay"

By the time I actually get the bill - I'm exhausted, don't care and forgot what the shit it was I had done!

TANGENT!

Anyway, so I go to another place - no one. C'mon, people! There are NOT that many public buildings in my teeny township...where IS everyone?! So now I go home. I call my neighbor down the street, he tells me where to go. Vote, that is...not...ahem...where to GO. Geez. Artards.

So I go, and who is standing right out front campaigning for her brother who is running for assessor? Yep, Owen's teacher. I asked her if I was still allowed to vote even if I'm a cookie thief. She said that was no problem. I sucked up to her, btw...just so you all know. I sent in some potpourri in a basket...she says she and the class love it. Yessss! (insert fist pumping here)

Aaaaaaand, I just have to mention, that I actually, really did make someone pee their pants with the cookie story just last night. That.is.awesome.

TANGENT 2!

Reel it back in now...okay, anyway, so I got to vote and Alex only got to school 45 minutes late. Oy. And I got to work late. And whatever. I voted. And you all must watch Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert tonight - or tape it - or something. It's going to be BRILLIANT, I'm sure.

Sloth breeds sloth...

Do you know what we had planned going into this weekend? NOTHING. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Nadadamnthing. THAT, my friends, is a bee-yoo-ti-ful outlook on a Friday, lemme tell ya.

Well, I didn't have plans until the young Kathy was stuck in the parking lot of Amelia's on Friday with a flat tire staring at the sign in the Impressions Cafe that we love that says "Closing November 4th." Ummmmm, what? Whodawa? How can this be? I love this place. I love the chef and the wine list and their wine tastings and half price martinis Tues-Thurs and JUST LIKE THAT they're CLOSING??? Well, I have plans NOW. I call the Kev-head immediately and arrange for us to go to dinner there Friday night. So okay, we have Friday night plans.

Kev-head informs me that when he got home on Friday the phone was ringing off the hook with boys calling to spend the night. Owen, what did you TELL people?? "Well, I didn't tell them they could come over, I told them I would ask." Well, now they're all calling to find out the verdict on the asking. Owen is more than upset to find out that he can't have friends over because we have to go to Impressions for dinner. So Kev-head makes the arrangement that he can have as many boys as he wants over on SATURDAY night - he'll even order pizza. Which, of course, means I'M ordering pizza and calling all of these parents, but whatever. Fine. If Owen is having friends over, I'M having friends over, too, dammit. So I make arrangements for the lovely Linda and her hubby to come over for game night.

Saturday during the day what did we do? Well, me - NOTHING. I tried to get motivated. I really did. I made a big breakfast. Cleaned the kitchen. We thought about going to the new library. But really, since I had nothing planned, I did nothing. I didn't even really clean my house. So Linda, I guess you've arrived. You are such a good friend to me now that I won't even clean for your visits anymore. Aren't you honored? HA! Talk about taking someone for granted. I thought about wiping that sink off in the bathroom - but never even got around to THAT. How pitiful! I did put clean towels in there, at least. Points for me.

Sunday Kev-head made cinnamon rolls for the "football team" that was staying over - hell, they were up and playing football in their SOCKS at 7am. Me, I was asleep. And I wasn't the overserved one on Saturday! Only the adult-age boys were overserved on red wine that night. Linda and I were cool. Oh yeah, while we played Blokus and Racko, they men got sloshed. 5 bottles of red wine done, finished, finito. And I think I only had a glass and a half! Rob kept worrying that we were going to run out. He clearly hasn't met me. I still had more reds to open, but no one seemed to need it!

I stumbled out at 8:30, I think and the boys were well on their way to the superbowl by that time. I fixed them a big lunch...cleaned up from the party and waited for the real football games to start. Bears then Steelers then Colts. Yeah, I was NOT leaving my house. And I managed to get nothing done on that day either. Whoops. I did fry up some fish and now my house smells like Long John Silver's...but that's about it, kids.

I guess it felt really good to have a do nothing weekend where my car didn't leave the garage. But in the same respect I could have/should have gotten SOMETHING done, right? Oh well, I guess there's always NEXT weekend.

Where IS everyone?

What? You don't want to be convorting with thieves? Ever since I started talking about Owen stealing cookies you guys are MIA. Eileen - still with us out there, sister? Hope you're feeling better, and that everyone in your house is feeling better.

Crazy sock night was a mad success. Yes, we did roll our jeans up so everyone could see. It's probably the best part about my bowling team that I love ... crazy is definitely on the bus. Next week? Pink week. The pinker the better. We'll all be wearing pink and singing P!nk songs and talking like we're the Pink Ladies. If I could I'd have jackets made! Quit talking about how gay I am! I can heeeeeear yoooooou. I've already decided on the theme for the week after that - pajama party. Yeah baby! Mostly because I have the most awesome kick ass pajamas from Old Navy that are uber comfy and it would be fun to come home and literally fall into bed. HA! I'm totally into this.

I have been dubbed "spirit stick" by my team. We have discussed "spirit fingers" already - it's a Bring It On thing - and I'm the spirit stick for our team. Anymore that's all they call me. "Hey spirit stick, you're up" "Spirit stick called, she wanted me to remind you that it's crazy sock night"

There was NO ONE in the bar after bowling last night. Hell everyone but us finished early. The team we were bowling against was in charge of the women's 50/50 - so that always means there's a lag in the game. We didn't finish until almost 10:30. My friend Linda was done by 9:30!! We had barely started our 3rd game. Oy. But I digress...no one in the bar, which means the girls and I had our run of the place. I learned some line dance called "the bus stop" and there's a bus stop song and everything. If you ask real nice I'll teach it to you. I wonder if they have that song on iTunes. Hang on...

HA! They totally do...I just put it in my shopping cart. Kathy, be prepared - we're so doing the bus stop next week! I wonder if Owen knows it. The Janet will be all over that, she loves her line dances. Electric slide, macarena, you name it, she's mastering it.

Have a great weekend my cool crazy bloggers. And to all you lurkers out there - Suzi...Aunt Carol...Linda...word.

Little known fact....

Well, maybe not so little known. I think a few of you know. I have a thing for socks. Especially holiday socks. I love them. I love them...well sure, like I would marry them. Snowflakes, sleds, pumpkins, shamrocks, hearts, I have them all...several pairs, actually. I don't really know how it started. My mom is not a holiday sock person, is she? I know we typically do slipper socks for Christmas, but I don't think she's a year round holiday sock hound. I can be distracted in the sock aisle for hours trying to decide on which pumpkin socks to get. Kathy makes fun of me for this.

But I realized that I have a sock fetish in general. A good pair of socks is better than diet coke (*gasp*) for me. Really.

Like all problems, instead of solving them, I like to share them with others. So tonight, at bowling, is crazy sock night. BRILLIANT. And we're going to roll up our jeans so everyone can see them. My sock of choice? My bright green socks with spiderwebs and little purple spiders. YEAH baby! AND they go almost all the way up to my knee. Even better. Remember my knee socks, Julie?? The white socks you used to make fun of me for. I'm laughing my ass off in my office right now remembering Julie's face every.time. I would wear those socks.

I also have a problem with lippy...but I think that might be a discussion for another day.

Today is a grunge/90's music day for me. The Toadies, Cracker, Everclear...what are you listening to?

ETA:
Another goofy thing with me: I'm a sucker for traditional anniversary gifts. EVERYONE makes fun of me for this. You can suck it. Last year it was leather. Kev-head scored an awesome leather jacket out of the deal. I have no memory of what I got. Huh. Now I'm trying to think...does anyone else remember? This year will be my 4th. I have to pick from fruit or flowers. HUH? Okay...I guess I'll send him flowers. Kevin doesn't even remember that it's our anniversary month, let alone how long we've been married. His response last night? There's a frame upstairs with the date on it. My response "I suggest you go look at it then, because I'm not telling you."

Oh boy.

Okay, so maybe you don't feel like sharing. Fine.

I'm going to continue to share.

My sister-in-law Kristin, who I can talk freely about right now because I know for a FACT she's not reading my blog. I have her computer right here...HA! SOMEONE (and I'm not pointing any fingers at my other sister-in-law who surfs the web like it's her job and plays internet poker) gave Kristin's computer a virus. And she gets these insane pop-ups all over the place. So now I have to fix it. Well, I guess I don't HAVE to, but I'm going to. Because I'm nice like that. Really. I am.

But I digress.

Kristin has 3 kids. She took said kids to the Walmart? Kmart? Local pet store chain? I don't know...took them SOMEWHERE to have their pictures took. (Like my midwest slang?) Individuals and a group shot. Well, getting 3 kids all dolled up, hair curled, not crying, not killing each other and getting them to the picture place is quite an undertaking. But she does it, gets them there...smile smile smile, pictures ordered. GOOD JOB! Until she got the pictures back. Ummmmm, yeah, the baby? He had on denim overalls and a red plaid shirt. Cute, right? Until you look at the 8X10 and the 11X13 and realize, HOLY SHIT, his shirt still has the size sticker on it! You know, the long strip that runs down the front of clothing and says 6-9 months. Yeah, THAT. On the wallets you can just see the glare of the flash off the plastic. But on the big pics you can read the size plain as day. Kristin is mortified.

We find this out, at all places, at the wake we went to on Friday. We are in the back of the funeral parlor laughing our asses off with some of the cousins. Inappropriate? Maybe.

So there is this costume party the next day for Rylee, spawn of Kristin, but truly my daughter from another mother. Kevin and I are discussing at dinner what his costume could be. I talk about him being Blake, and how should go with stickers on his shirt. We take it one step further and buy him overalls the next day. I'm walking around Sears taking the size stickers off as many shirts as I can get my hands on and I'm shoving them in my pockets. Kev-head is convinced I'm going to get us thrown in jail. But we make it out with stickers in hand and when we get to the party, they all think Kevin is a farmer. Until they look more closely, and see all of those stickers on his chest. I thought Kristin was going to fall out of her chair. "I'm Blake" he announces.

Good stuff right there. That's what family is for! To take your embarrassing moments and remind you of them daily.

Chick, chick BOOM! (MRA3=Dork)
That is all.
Have a nice day.

Two funny Halloween stories, one for each kid...

We've all got them, either about ourselves or about our kids, or someone we know...so BRING IT!

Alex:
He was Darth Maul. Remember him? Double edged light saber (or light saver as I always used to call them) It was a standard costume...robe, weapon, and the plastic mask that only cover the front of your face with the piece of rubber band like stuff that goes around the back of your head. Two eye-holes and a little slit for the mouth. You're with me, right? So Kevin, being Kevin, as we're taking pictures, keeps telling Alex to smile. Which of course we can't see. Finally Alex has had enough "I AM smiling!!" he yells back. And can't understand why we're laughing our asses off.

Owen:
Same year. He was Barney. Adorable. Walking around Chesterton trick-or-treating, not really getting it because he's only 2 1/2. We're at one of the last houses. The lady opens the door and exclaims..."Look, it's Barney!" And Owen turns around looks behind him and says "WHERE???" He was so excited because he thought Barney was there!! He never realized she was talking about HIM. I thought Kevin was going to pee himself.

What are your best costumes? Your worst? Best you've seen? Speak, freaks!

It's almost the witch's eve...

Or whatever it is they call Halloween. I call it a pain in the ass. Costumes and pumpkin carving and freezing your ass off for candy that they really won't even eat. At least mine won't. WHAT??? Kids that don't eat their weight in candy on Halloween?? Nonsense you say!

I'm so glad you all enjoyed the cookie story. Because there's even more hilarity where that came from. From the same day. Seriously.

But to tell you that story, I, of course, have to tell you this one...

Tuesday during the day, I was determined I was going to find a bowling ball. I want my own ball, dammit! Is it so much to ask? Apparently so. But I digress. So I mention to Nick the programmer that I'm going out and he asks me if I'm going anywhere near Best Buy - yes...he asks if I'll pick him up a copy of "Nacho Libre" - apparently someone else in the office did and if you buy it now, you get this mask with it. Sure, no problem. Well this whole conversation takes place within earshot of the man in the corner office, who is now intrigued and would also like a copy. Fine. 2 copies of Nacho Libre with masks coming right up. Whatever.

I don't find a bowling ball, I find the movies, I pick up a box lunch from Heavenly Ham (LOVE!) and I'm back at the office. Brilliant. Except that I don't buy widescreen, don't think in widescreen and apparently the man ONLY thinks in widescreen versions. Whoops, my bad. I tell him that I'll exchange it, because I'm bound to be going that way again, as I'm determined to pick up a bowling ball.

So....I put the movie in my car, work until 3am (stop.singing.kathy.), drive home with my window down in the freezing cold looking like a drunk, sleep a couple of hours, get the window fixed, Owen comes home with cookies...you're all with me, right? Good. So I tell Owen to go get in the car with the cookies and I'll be right out.

I come out of my house, I'm walking through the garage, and there, in the car...is this:

Yeah, that's right...Owen has gotten in the car, seen the movie, opened it and put on the mask...THAT DOESN'T BELONG TO ME, while eating the cookies that also DON'T BELONG TO ME. Of course, I only know that the mask doesn't belong to me at this point. I am walking through the garage, looking at Owen in the car in slow motion saying "No-o-o-o-o...Owen, no-o-o-o-o" He's just smiling and playing with the buttons on the radio minding his own business.

Um, Owen, that mask isn't ours. Oh, it isn't? No...I was taking that movie in to exchange it for someone. Oh, sorry. Yeah, well, you didn't know. I guess we own it now. Cool, can we watch it tonight?

We get to Best Buy and they have the widescreen version with the mask, I go to work, give it to the man, all is well...and we hand out stolen Halloween cookies and fix phone system problems all day.

So now you understand why the cookie thing was even MORE hilarious for me when it was happening. That day was unbelievable. Seriously.