You put the wine in the coconut and shake it all up...

Best.night.ever.
A night of wine and food? Are you kidding me? The only thing that could ruin it for me is if the sponsors were Boone's Farm and MickeyD's. But they weren't. Wine Enthusiast Magazine was. And they know how to throw a party lemme tell ya.

First, I'm proud to say that I was NOT one of the falling down drunk girls. I saw some of them though, it wasn't pretty. They apparently forgot that you don't have to drink all of what they give you.

Now that's not to say I didn't catch a buzz...because when you're drinking that many different varietals that quickly...whew...it catches up to you eventually.

The good...
KWV Chenin Blanc - at only $7 a bottle, this wine would be a great sipping wine or great with BBQ.

Banfi Vintners had a Rosa Regale Brachetto d'Aqui. Kind of a dessert wine with a little fizz...but close to a Sangria. Pop some lemons and limes in that bad boy and put it in a pitcher on ice. YUM.

From the Boisset America table - the Lulu B. 2004 Pinot Noir - a GREAT bottle and a steal for $10. Highly recommend this.

The bad...
ConchayToro - bleck; Gala Rouge Pinot Noir - double bleck; there were A LOT of them I thought were blecky - these took the cake.

The so-so...
Talus Collection 2004 California Pinot Noir

The surprising...Barboursville Vineyards out of Virginia - Their 2004 Reserve Viognier was out of the park. (The pinot grigio, notsomuch)

For Julie...
The Beaulieu Vineyard Reserve Dulcet - it's a Cab/Syrah blend you would totally dig. I thought their Sauvignon Blanc at $12-$15 was a knock-out.

and... Nu Nar Cabernet Sauvignon...Kevin thought you would love this.

The GREAT...
Canaletto 2005 Pinot Grigio. $8-$9/bottle - BRILLIANT.
Moletto NV Prosecco
Santa Margherita Prosecco di Valdobbiadene - $17-$22/bottle - absolutely stunning. Seriously. Went back to this table. Would make an excellent gift.
Jacob's Creek Reserve Riesling - I will absolutely be looking for this around here. Kevin and I both really liked this. Not too sweet, a little dry for a Riesling. Probably why I enjoyed it so much.
Five Rivers Pinot Grigio - a sweeter pinot grigio than what I'm used to. Would appeal to more people, I think than some of the others I buy.
Green Point Victoria Shiraz - This was one of the first I tried. I tried everything on this table, and there were a lot. This is the only one that stood out.

The FOOD...
Vivere Italian Village Restaurants...Executive Chef Drue Kennedy - I love you. Call me. I haven't been so excited about beets...well...ever. Which I guess is a healthy thing. Baby beet salad with goat cheese mousse, watercress & lemon-thyme vinaigrette. I went back to this table twice..

Trattoria No. 10 - Executive Chef Doug D'Avico - my husband loves you. Call him. Squash Tacconelli with Blue Crab & Pineapple "Prosciutto". Or as my husband called it "The squash stuff with the crab and the cornflakes on top." Cornflakes? You think you at CORNFLAKES at the Wine Enthusiast magazine party. Oh my word.

The Stained Glass Wine Bar & Bistro - Butternut Sqash Pierogi - YUMMMMMM.

Timo - spit-roasted rabbit ragout with lavendar, bacon and vanilla - brilliant. (Jen, I think you ate here before you went to see Wicked, didn't you? The chef was a jerk but the food was good)

Le Colonial - Bo Bia - soft salad rolls of julienne carrots, jicama bean sprouts with sweet plum dipping sauce...it's a vietnamese restaurant. Would love to go and eat a full meal here.

And for those of you who are like "Seriously, Rebecca...get help. You wrote all of this down???" No sillies...I was drinking and eating too much to write too much of anything. They gave me a handy dandy...notebook! All I had to write down were prices and whether or not I liked it. BRILLIANT. AND we got to keep our glasses as a souvenir. AND we got a free copy of the magazine. AND I want Kevin to subscribe me to this for mother's day. Oh who am I kidding. I'm going to subscribe myself and say it's my mother's day present. hee.

This was a great evening. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Only bring a bunch of people - so we can all share our experiences. Kevin really enjoyed it, too. For those of you who can't believe I "made" Kevin go to something like this...there was a lot of "eye candy" for him, so don't you worry about it. Hot women drink wine. Seriously. Look at me. HA! Now that was funny.

Spring cleaning...

Wait...can you hear it? Listen! shhhhhhh...yep...there it is...it is the sound of my house...being cleaned by someone else! YEAH baby!! I cannot WAIT to go home today and see a nice clean house. That I didn't clean. I didn't even come close to cleaning. It's almost like MAGIC. Except for that big wad of cash I had to leave on the kitchen counter that won't be there anymore. But I guess that's magic, too! You leave the money and the cleaning fairies come and take away all of your filth. Well, not all of it. Kevin will still be home. HA! See, honey, that was funny. It's a joke...humor, get it? Didn't think so. Oops. Sorry. LOVE YOU!

Seriously, I have a problem. A cleaning problem. As in I don't do it. Not because I don't want to, mind you (though my husband would probably disagree). There was a time in my life when I channeled the Janet and I would get up on Saturday mornings all motivated and blaring music and cleaning and planning my menu for the week. Then the third bathroom came. Then the fourth. And we got busier. And my shoulder flared up. And kerr-BLAMMO! The mess you see before you that was formerly an organized presentable house.

And I'm very proud of myself. Previously I would clean for the cleaning people. Which at that time was my sister-in-law. And I had high hopes of doing that this weekend. I just didn't want it looking like squatters had moved in to an abandoned home and wrecked up the place. Which is what it looks like now. Seriously. These are strangers, for crap's sake! Strangers can't see my house looking like this! But actually they're worse than strangers. They are strangers I know a little bit. Alex used to go to school with one of their sons. So they know people I know. And can spread the news about the filth that is my house. Especially my bathroom. Because that's the bathroom all the way in the back of the house, that no one uses or sees except me. So I don't clean it as much as the others (again, Kevin would argue I don't clean the others, and he would be right). But today...today I have no shame. I left the damn place in all its squalor and hit the road, jack. And right now the cleaning fairies Deanna and Carla are wondering why my husband stays married to me as they pry oatmeal off my hardwood floors and dust the dead soldiers on the shelf in the foyer. So now I'll be known in Roselawn as 'Rebecca-the-woman-who-doesn't-clean.' Great. And people wonder why I drink.

But this will totally motivate me to do the OTHER things I need to do in my house. Like go through the ever-growing STACK OF CRAP that lingers around and eventually takes over my entire kitchen counter. This would include things like junk mail, graded homework, bills, scout stuff, book order forms, bills, market day order forms, newspapers, newsletters, bills...and as much denial as I like to be in, those bills eventually need to be found and paid. Hmmm...maybe I'll do that tonight in my nice clean house! YEAH, that's the ticket. And then I can clean out my closets, and my wardrobe and ... oh shit...who am I kidding. That shit won't happen. I'm going to try though. I really am. really.

Summertime summertime sum-sum-summertime...

aka...Here comes the sun, doot-n-doo-doo, here comes the sun...and I say, it's all right.

And almost everytime I see "all right" in print...I think of my sophomore year English teacher. I just wish I could remember his name. I used to remember. Hell, I used to remember a lot of things. Now I've dipped so low in lack-of-memory-dom I couldn't even remember to make a friggin' salad for the work carry-in today...when I just bought the ingredients at the store LAST NIGHT and they were sitting ON THE COUNTER. Good one. Dumbass. Anyway Mr. so-and-so (Chesterton people, help me out, he had a beard, his wife worked at CHS, too) used to write on the board:

"Alright is alwrong" - and that's how I remember to always spell it correctly.

But I digress.

Spring has sprung! Tulips, weeping cherry, almond bush, sand cherry...all blooming. Lots of other things peeking their heads above ground getting ready to bloom. Alex and Owen mowed their little butts off this weekend. So glad we had the tractor worked on over the winter. Joy was commenting about this awhile ago, that it was too early...I had to laugh, because I sent our tractor in to have it winterized and the blades replaced back in November, I think. Was great not to have to worry about it this spring.

Megan is getting married this weekend!!! I can't believe it's already here. I'm so looking forward to it. Functions at the club always come with great stories. Even UB's funeral had it's own twisted tale to tell. What in the HELL am I going to wear?? Shit. I haven't even thought that far ahead yet. And I'm not going to have any time this week to shop. I mean, Thursday night I have to go and drink 500 different wines for crap's sake, and I can't even TALK about the food that's going to be there. OMG...even if I DID have time to shop, would I still be able to fit into the damn dress on Saturday without a full colonic?? GAH!

Opening day Saturday, too...Owen's very first baseball game. I bought his cleats last night - you've never seen a boy more excited. He had to try on his whole uniform then to make sure it all fits. He looks so sharp. We decided to wear the pant bottoms high like Crede. Owen likes that look. There will be pictures after the weekend. of everything.

Aaaaaaaand...the Jimmer has a 'Jill'...there has been actual visual confirmation of this. She's real, according to Julie, and breathes in and out and everything. Hopefully we'll all get to meet her on Saturday???

So spring flowers, spring wedding, spring baseball, spring love...loaded the frig with white wine...almost time to retire the reds for me. Think spring! (whatever that means to you)

Everything old is new again...

I 'stepped into the Gap' in the Pittsburgh airport...yeah, there's a whole mall there. Land's End, Nine West...and NO sales tax. brilliant! I could not believe what is coming back. And I've seen it before now, but seriously, STACKING POLO SHIRTS??? seriously? SERIOUSLY? And colored socks...a whole store devoted to colored socks...brightly colored socks. The kids are removing their laces from 'my adidas' again and Kangaroos are hip. seriously? I've seen mini-skirts over leggings...shirts with wide ballet colors over tank tops (thank you Jennifer Beals)...if I see pegged jeans I'm going to throw up. I refuse. REFUSE I say to peg the bottom of my pants again. And if the big hair trend returns, I'm shaving my head Annie Lennox style. Hand to God I'll do it!

What's next? Pet rocks? Fluorescent mesh shirts? Can we please, please pretty please bring back the Madonna 'Desperately Seeking Susan' look? How about the Prince look? Or better yet...let's have everyone wearing the 'Beat It' jacket...with some Cavaricci's. MC Hammer pants? Parachute pants? Breakdancing is back in, are we all going to tie bandanas around our legs? C'mon, you know you totally did.

Joy, quick! Start making those barrettes with the ribbons again...you could make a KILLING on ebay!!

What got me started on this rant? Shoes...actually. The wedge is back and taking no prisoners. I didn't really like the wedge back in the day, I don't really like it now. Shelves of them in Nine West and none of them really peaked my interest. Me not breaking into a sweat in Nine West is unheard of. A girl here in the office had a cute pair from the Tar-jay that I could probably live with but most of them...taaaaaa-cky.

I was totally into the phase where girls wore men's jeans...oh yeah baby. Let's bring that one back! But wait, I'm jumping ahead of myself, that was the 90's with the grunge thing where you had to tie a flannel shirt around your waist for street cred.

ETA: This is one of the funniest articles I've read on "The Onion" in a long time. We've all met this guy...and maybe even at times BEEN this guy (I'm lookin' at you, Jimmer)...beware...there are f-bombs all over the place.

Putting the 'fun' in dys'fun'ctional...

Some of you know my extended family...some of you do not. For those of you that do, those last couple of posts probably came as no surprise. Even Mom Joy has been exposed to Rich yelling and turning up his hearing aids. It wouldn't be Christmas without it.

For those of you that do not know my PA family - seriously - you have no idea how crazy our bloodline is. It usually leaves my mom, Carol and I shaking our heads wondering, "how did WE turn out so normal???" And some of you would argue that we're not, actually, and that's fine, too. But with all the drama of the weekend Carol said it best, at least we know we have each other. Always. My Aunt Carol is great because I could seriously pick up the phone at any time and we could talk for hours. And I think the reason she and I get along so well is because she and my mom have such a great relationship. And they had each other growing up, and that's how they made it through whatever craziness from their youth.

Now me growing up? I didn't really have that with my sister. She always saw me as a thorn in her side who didn't wear the right jeans and I never cared about the things she cared about...but I did have Julie. She is the reason I am as normal as I am. (HA - for those of you saying 'well THAT explains it' HAHA to you) And even though she once gave me a black eye with a game board ... my best childhood memories are wrapped up with Julie...

smoking weeds ... no, not weed. weeds...these tall hollow pieces of grass we would light on fire and pretend like we were smoking cigarettes.

drinking my first beer....what were we Jul, 10? 11?, when we snuck those PBR's out of Harry's stash? UGH. They were soooooo gross. We only opened one, had two sips and vowed we would NEVER be drinking THAT again.

monkey balls...if you don't know what they are, I can't help you. The big green balls that grow on trees. We would line them in the road and watch the cars splat them.

pickle...yes, I run like I have cerebral pulsy. Not to make fun of anyone afflicted with such a dreaded condition...but I am misaligned in ways that the elephant man would envy. I cannot and should not run. ever.

hours in the woods...seriously, how is tree-crossing NOT an Olympic event? It was for us.

seances...we could talk to dead people. really. and we were all light as a feather and stiff as a board.

The awesome fivesome...Now it's a foursome...and we call ourselves the ya-ya's. But then and now, you won't find a tighter group of friends. No matter the distance, no matter the time...

And finally...PHOTOGRAPHS! How many hours did I spend, did WE spend, modeling, posing, setting timers running, laughing...OMG. I am so very glad my friend is finding herself in photography again.

And now in my adult life I find that I have surrounded myself with women who all have their own story, their own dysfunction, and we share, and laugh and share some more. I love my girls! Julie, Suzi, Sheryl, Jen, Kathy, Amy, Heather, Laura, Tiffany, Michelle, Joyce...who am I missing? So I raise my glass to all the people finding fun in their dysfunction. I hope you all had a Julie or a Carol or a someone to make you laugh at yourself.

Things you shouldn't say in front of your mother...

FIRST - there's a new link to check out...for those of you that don't know, I've been working the campaign to get my friend elected to the school board. She's smart, she has experience and we need her there. I've been getting a lot more involved with the school this year, mostly because of what went on with Owen's teacher. The statistics are staggering...Oprah had a two day special on what people are doing to try and change this and gave this site. Check it out, get involved...stay involved. We are 24th in the world behind POLAND for pete's sake in math...and they're practically a 3rd world country...pretty pitiful for a "superpower". STANDUP!

Onto funnier matters...

So one of the things that happened in Pittsburgh was of course, Easter dinner. Dinners in my family are usually pretty funny, the conversation always takes a turn for the worse. Apparently the worst part of the conversation happened before my mom and I even arrived at my aunt's house. I have an uncle. Two of them, actually, on my mother's side. But this is no ordinary uncle...this is one of THOSE uncles. The uncle that's gross and inappropriate and generally embarrassing. We all have them. That certain member of the family we would break through glass to get away from in a public place. THAT guy. His name is Eddie. And he's something else. At my grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary dinner, he sat at the table, in the middle of the restaurant, singing a song about leprosy. Seriously. And the more you ignored him, the louder he got.

"Leprosy! My god it's leprosy...there goes my ear, dear, into my beer dear. Leprosy! My god it's leprosy...there goes my eyeball, into my high ball."

So apparently Eddie walked into my aunt's house and immediately launched into a story that involved him, his friend, his friend's girlfriend, 2 Viagras and 6 condoms. He went into enough detail that he said it went on for 6 hours and he still didn't get off. Ummmmm, ew. ICK. I didn't need to know that. Did you? Did my aunt's friends? Did my 89-year-old GRANDMOTHER? Because she was sitting right next to him on the couch while he told his story. And yeah, he's the oldest and my mother is 62...so GREAT...I now have an image of my late-60-something-uncle, who looks like a tall Charles Manson for crap's sake (not kidding), doing it for hours with some schmuck and his girl. As if the naked slides of his trip to Europe with his Russian girlfriend when I was 10 wasn't enough to haunt me. ew. Did I say EW?

Another humorous story came from my aunt's friend, Daria. Daria and her friend were apparently having a conversation about dildos within earshot of the friend's mother. So the mother asked, "What's a dildo?" They told her it was a dough recipe...and I'm not sure how the rest of it goes, exactly, because I was a little looped on the Riesling...but it ended with the mother in a bakery asking for the "dill dough". You'd think it was an urban legend, but alas, there it was...being told by the person that heard it...again...in front of my grandmother. Who was laughing, but I'm not sure if she heard everything. We later had a conversation about saggy boobs, and she had a lot to say on that subject...quite hilarious.

And lastly...I was in the 7th circle of hell yesterday trying to work on a firewall/vpn installation at a programmer's house who works off-site. In Deerfield....which is north of O'Hare...and I don't know if you guys have seen 294 lately, but it's a fucking disaster. The bright shining moment is that there's a Trader Joe's not minutes away, lucky bastard. So after a disastrous day, I decided to stop for a few items. Hummus, four bags of snacks, bleu cheese stuffed olives, 12 bottles of wine. Yeah, that's right, 12. All for $95. Seriously. $95!!!! BRILLIANT. The guys in the Joe's were nice to me...got me a box to put all my bottles of wine in, helped me pick out a few.

Then I got home, and the middle button of my shirt was unbuttoned. Yeah, the one right over the sisters. Was it like that when I was there? Probably, who knows. Figures. No wonder they were being nice to me.

Do you ever look at your family and think...seriously?????

So here I sit at my aunt's computer...she's just read some of my blog and is very excited about reading it and catching up with what's going on in Indiana. Guess I'll have to stop talking about her. Oh, wait, she's here? Shit...HI CAROL!!! Oh she's nutty as a fruitcake and she'd be the first to admit it, what am I thinking? She won't care if I talk about her.

Mom and I got in to PA an hour later than we were supposed to...really, Southwest Airlines, you're KILLING me...no storms, no ice, no inclement weather, and the inbound flight was delayed. The only good thing? At Midway Airport you don't have to sit in the bar to drink. SCORE! I grabbed a draft (yes, I had to drink draft, it's the only way I could take it into the terminal) and went out to sit next to the Janet before she made too many friends. It's a bad habit we share...talking to complete strangers. We befriended this very nervous strange man...who talked about a lot of stuff we didn't think was funny but laughed appropriately anyway. I was soooooo glad when my mom said later "Did you understand the blah-blah-blah story? I didn't get what was so funny?" Yeah, me neither mom. Anyway, I ordered a beer on the plane and they didn't charge me for it. SCORE #2!!! This is starting off to be quite a nice vacation.

So by the time we get there, Carol and Rich have been circling the airport (no, not for an hour, they knew the flight was delayed) - so we hop in and off we go. We're not 4 minutes away from the airport and Carol and mom are yakkity-yak-yakking...over each other, in two different conversations (hmmmmmmm, wonder where I got that ability??) and all of sudden Rich is SCREAMING - "CAROL....CAROL...can you shut up for a minute, I'm trying to tell Janet something!!!!" Rich yells sometimes, we're all used to it. I don't think he can hear himself a lot. So what he HAS to tell my mother is something we all already know, about whatever precription they're talking about (note: people in our parent's generation talk about cholesterol and scripts first, everything else second), and I think we've already said during the conversation...but he feels better after getting it off his chest. I'D feel better if he watched the road more in the construction zones rather than staring down the equipment and the crew working the night shift to see if he knows the guys. It's what he used to do for a living...but still...seriously...eyes on the road, bub!

So we get to the house and there's a lot of chatting and eating....and eating and chatting. Carol made breaded pork chops that my mom and I totally feasted on at 10pm...Yuengling beer...brilliant! So happy to be in PA!

The next day is hilarious, and depressing and hilarious again...I'll have to tell that story another day.
I will leave you this thought that my lovely father left me with when we talked after touching down in Pittsburgh:

M: Blah-blah-blah-shit-my-dad-doesn't-care-about
Dad: Well I gotta go, I've got stuff to do.
M: I'm sure you do.
D: Yeah, I'm going out to hide Easter eggs tonight. That way by Sunday I'll have forgotten where they are and it will be more fun.

You gotta love the Harry.

Leavin' on a jet plane...

It's hard to believe, but I had never been on a plane before I was 30. In 5 years I've flown several times...business, honeymoon, vacation...and I'm leaving for Pittsburgh today with the Janet. Spring cleaning grandma's house, visiting with the PA family...good times. Should be good wine and good food involved, and my aunt said her hot tub is fired up which should be good on the shoulder. I love Pittsburgh airport. I've flown into it a few times now, and it's really great to get around in (they have a subway system to help you navigate the terminals). I'l be back on Monday... my Aunt has DSL, so I may still be able to blog a bit while I'm there, the stories that come out of PA are always hilarious. My family is something else.

Owen had baseball practice last night. It looks like the boy is going to be playing first base. For never having played, I thought he looked pretty good. Caught a fly ball, took a couple of grounders, caught most of the throws to first. His batting wasn't so great, but the couple he did connect with weren't too shabby. One made it to the outfield, and he got a home run out of it due to the 'overthrows.' Kev-head is coaching and I thought he did a nice job with the boys last night. We know a lot of the boys and their parents from Scouting, so even though this is our first year involved with little league, we're not strangers. My old neighbors - the Spencers - their oldest boy is on our team, so that's fun, too. I feel like we don't get to see them much anymore and that makes me sad.

Not much to say today...shoulder is still feeling good...everyone keep your fingers crossed that it stays that way!
HAPPY EASTER!!

The duck story

So yeah, we live on this sort of pseudo-farm, right? The Crumerosa as we fondly refer to it. And yeah, it's south of the river, and yeah we have goats and dogs and a barn and on the list of chores for the children is to "clean out the stall" once every couple of weeks. And yeah, I had to give my goat pepto...but some shit I just didn't anticipate.

My new neighbors are from the south side of Chicago. I think he's a Cook County Sheriff's Deputy or some such thing. I've never actually seen him in uniform, so I have no idea. To be honest we don't visit much with any of our neighbors until the weather gets nice. That's when we're all outside.

Anyway, the neighbors have no barn, but they do have a fenced in back forty and a pond that isn't overrun by fucking cattails. (Does ANYONE know how to chemically get rid of these things?) So they tell me last week that they're getting a donkey. Yes, I will officially live next door to a jack ass. AWESOME! As soon as they get a gate installed, the donkey is coming down. Apparently Mr. Neighbor has a cousin/uncle/relative who lives not far from us who has a farm and is giving him this donkey. It's 6 years old. Great.

They were also given, wait for it...3 ducks. Sounds great because they have a pond, right? Sure. Except there's no barn. There's no where to put the ducks at night when the COYOTES that have overrun Newton County are on the prowl. One duck, as Mrs. Neighbor put it, is too FAT to fly, one has a broken wing and can't fly and the other one flies just fine.

So the duck story...we let our dogs out on Friday. Alex typically takes them into the woods. After awhile I look out and I see a black duck hanging out near our pond. Hmmm....this does not bode well...I take a step onto the deck and see Alex circling the neighbor's pond and screaming at the top of his lungs. Mrs. Neighbor and annoying kid neighbor are also there. GREAT. So I put on a sweater and go to fetch my dogs who have run through the woods and entered the neighbor's property from the back and are chasing the non-flying ducks. PERFECT. They are retrievers, after all.

Krypton and Joe come right away when called by me, though they were doing a fantastic job of ignoring Alex completely. I put them in the barn and off I go to get Jessie 'the determined' who is swimming after broken-wing duck. Now this duck, while it cannot fly, can swim like a mutha. She is letting Jessie get close to her and then diving under water, swimming all the way across the pond and resurfacing on the other side. It was awesome! Jessie would swim around confused until she spotted her again and then doggie paddle her way over there. So now I'm screaming and throwing things at Jessie to try to get her to leave this damn duck alone. I think she got tired and finally swam over to me, where I chase her home. A little bit of dog food lured all of the dogs back into the kennel. No ducks were harmed in this exercise.

But now there's still one lonely duck hanging out in my yard, totally freaked out, and Mrs. Neighbor can't catch it. So I tell Owen, "We have to go get that duck home"...he groans at me, but puts on his coat and out we go. We come up behind it and walk on either side of it while it quacks at us nervously and walk it to the fence and through a hole in the fence. Now all the while this duck keeps trying to outfox us by dodging and turning and we keep blocking the paths we don't want him to take. It took probably 20 minutes to get this duck from my woods into his yard, and then Owen escorted him back to the pond.

My main point here is that we won't have to worry about these ducks for long. If my dogs could get in, then the coyotes can get in, and they are not nearly as nice as my dogs. We'll see how long this lasts. Until then, I can only turn my dogs out into the pasture, where they chase and scare the hell out of my goats. Seriously. This is my life.

What the *@$&^#!

So this is really funny. My husband wants me to censor myself in my blog. On Friday we had this conversation:

Kev-head: Wow, you are one bitter lady.
Me: I am?
KH: Yeah, I read your blog.
M: But how am I bitter?
KH: Your language...you were like 'fuck this' and 'fuck that'. I'm going to stop telling people to read your blog
M: Are you kidding me???

I counted...there were 4 bombs in that last blog entry. So this is funny for two reasons. One, I've always kind of talked like a truck driver. I mean, I can refrain if I have to/want to...but I love the f-bomb and drop it like it's hot all over the place. I always have, so I'm not sure why this is so surprising to Kevin. Is it surprising to you guys? Two, Saturday morning my husband wakes me up with this conversation:

KH: We're going to breakfast, do you want to come?
M: I don't know
KH: Well, I need to go out and get some fucking rock salt. Our fucking toilets are stained and we've got people coming to look at cleaning the house. I've got to get those stains out before those fucking people come over.
M: Mmmmmmm...yeah...

Not kidding. Couldn't make this shit up. He's hilarious. There were times this weekend when he was dropping f-bombs for no reason, like he was making fun of me...but that conversation? Was ALL him. HA! Fucker. HA! I'm funny.

When I was recounting all of this to Julie on the phone Alex was there and his response? "Yeah, it's no big deal...you always say it." Was that it, Jul? Was that what he said? I can't remember, it was something like that. Kind of eye-opening, like the time Kevin told Alex to go get me a beer from the basement while I was cooking dinner. Alex brought me the beer and set it down saying "Here's your beer, mom, AAAAAAS USUAL." WHAT??? OMG...Kevin laughed and laughed. Julie's still laughing. I'm not even the beer drinker in our house. Not compared to the Kev-head (well, actually, Kevin hardly drinks anymore and when he does he's drinking all of my red wine, the bastard).

Anyway, I guess my kids will have something to tell their therapists later in life. Like I told Julie way back when...I'm not looking to be the best mom, just the most interesting.

Side note: There are people here reading my blog that I had no idea even KNEW about it. WELCOME Mom-Joy...welcome Matt Hatfield! All of you lurkers should post a comment occasionally so I know I'm not talking to myself. (and Kev-head...and Jimmer...I know they read religiously)

Attack of the killer ladybugs!!

It's that time of year again. The time when the lady bugs (asian beetles? Annoying harbingers of spring?) come out of wherever it is they sleep for the winter and crowd my sunny windows and do fly by's on my television at night. AGH! Currently they are LOVING my bathroom window, which is a problem. Because girls sit when they pee. And my back is to the window. And I'll be sitting there, minding my own business, and WHAM! One will fly right into my face, and what the fuck am I supposed to do then? Jump?! Or better yet, they buzz me when I'm in the shower. And I'm blind, by the way, and don't usually shower with my contacts in. So the little fuckers will fly in, land on my bar of soap and I'll reach over and feel something CRUNCH under my hand when I grab it. YEOW! Freaks me out every time. And yes, it happens more often than you think. It's horrible!!! Or I'll step out of the shower and take a step off the bath mat and feel a crunch under my fucking feet. Shudder, ew, help.me.please.

How can I rid myself of these evil critters???

Home today...I just couldn't take sitting at my desk in pain one more day. The physical therapy freaks say I'm doing better, sadistic little fucks. And actually, not that I want to jinx myself, but I am feeling better. Which is right about the time I'll do something stupid and do too much and be back in immense pain in two days. Right now I really want to finish up some laundry. Maybe I'll just do that and lay down. If I lay down afterwards I'll be fine, right? And I'm hiring someone to clean the house for awhile. That will make my husband sane, I hope. Now if I can just stop snoring at night. Oy. The hits just keep on comin...

Surprise visit from Jen and Stephen the other night. He is absolutely adorable.

Okay...off to fold some clothes, down a diet coke and eat a reese's peanut butter egg. Life IS good.

We are family...I got all my sisters with me...

Well, the PT people are trying to be nice to me. When I told her that my pain was a 15 and I seriously contemplated letting my 13 year old drive me home on Tuesday, they said they were going to 'take it easy on me'. This involved working that muscle until I wanted to punch the girl in the face, putting some biofreeze on me and taping me into a less precarious position. I've compared my pain to childbirth. Kathy says I'm forgetting what childbirth pain is like. I think everyone is underestimating how bad this really is for me. Yeah, I'm here. Yeah, I'm walking and talking and all that jazz. But when I'm alone, or semi-alone like I was on the ride home with Alex on Tuesday, I'm bawling like a baby, literally doing lamaze breathing techniques and screaming 'give my daughter the shot' if you know what I mean.

ANYWAY...enough about that crybaby bullshit. On to more fun topics.

My diva-girl Mandisa got voted off idol and I'm so sad.

Owen had his very first baseball practice yesterday and he's ecstatic.

We're having a 'Rock the Vote' fundraiser for my girl Cyndi at the Boundary Waters Lodge in Demotte. $5 cover for anyone who would like to attend! My letter to the editor supporting her made it in to yesterday's Enterprise. Good times!

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse...

What the fuck kind of sadisitic bullshit IS physical therapy school anyway? Do they seriously sit around and just think up the most torturous shit and think 'well that would make a fine exercise for your frontal schmoken-flokken.'

Holy mother of God they TAPED MY SHOULDER BLADES TOGETHER. Seriously. Couldn't make this shit up. The sisters and I are standing and sitting at attention at all times. I.look.ridiculous. My boss made some comment about looking like a stripper trolling for bills and now he can't look at me. I've taken my second muscle relaxer today.

She also told me to tuck my chin. WHAT?! If there's one thing you don't tell a woman in her mid-thirties to do it's to tuck her chin for crap's sake. Because THAT's an attractive look.

My left arm is tingling. I can't finish my lunch. And it's Potbelly's...who doesn't inhale a Potbelly's sandwich like it's the last meal you'll ever get? It's that good. But not me...not today, kids. Kathy was talking about some wonder drug for horses the other day...DMSO. It'll light my muscles on fire for awhile, but then she thinks I'd feel better. I'm half tempted.

One pill makes you larger...and one pill makes you small...

Pain is a funny thing. It makes you think completely differently about yourself, your life and what you can and cannot do. I am in constant, 24/7 pain and have been for 6 months. "Go see a doctor!" you're all saying. I have. I am. Prescription anti-inflammatories. Ibuprofen. This exercise, that exercise. Heat...no MOIST heat. Do you hold the phone with that hand? Do you do this, do you do that, let's get some x-rays. Let's adjust you. Off to the chiropractor...everything looks fine on your x-rays. Let's stim you and heat you and massage you until you are in so much fucking pain that you can't even lift your arm...but whatever we do let's not TELL you what our goal is, what our plan is, what MIGHT be causing this. For those of you who think that stim and moist heat and massage therapy sounds good, let me assure you...it doesn't FEEL good. When I leave there I feel like someone just shoved a large baseball under my fucking skin and stapled my muscles to it and these bitches have to the nerve to look at me like I'm CRAZY when I come in two days later and I tell them my pain is now at an 8, where it was at a 5. More stim, more heat, more massage = more tears. PS...on a scale of 1 to 10 today, I'm at a 10. But I've been a 15 before, so this is nothing.

Back to the doctor I go. Muscle relaxers. Hallelujah! Victory! Except, I don't know what muscles this pill thinks it's relaxing, because nothing about me feels relaxed, least of all my shoulder. Now I'm in physical therapy. More exercises, more stim, more heat, and now some ice thrown in to reduce the swelling. More stinky analgesic cream on my shoulder when I have to go back to work. I.am.hot. I smell like a fucking nursing home.

It's 2:46. I took a muscle relaxer at 6:30 am. 10:30 am. 12:30 pm. I want another one, but I am not a pill person. Especially muscle relaxers. They scare me. Can I take too much? Can I really be the bride from 'Sixteen Candles' stumbling down the aisle? Certainly I can, and THAT's what I want to be, the girl who OD'd on muscle relaxers at WORK! GREAT. Like I need child protective services knocking on my door. Puh-lease. And nevermind the fact that I would probably pass out, in the hallway, and I'm wearing a SKIRT, so you just know I would pass out with my legs this way and that way and flash people embarassingly before someone called 911. NOW I'm the girl in the skirt who OD'd on muscle relaxers who didn't shave her thighs, because, well, who does? I mean really, the hair is so thin there anyway and I don't wear anything where people would ever really see past my knees...except for EMT's and emergency room nurses when you pass out at work from an overdose of muscle relaxers. And while I'm at it, just to complete this sexy picture...I couldn't find my tights. So I had to wear socks with my boots. Well, the boots are high and the socks are short...no one can SEE them for cripe's sake. And yeah, I couldn't find my normal black socks...so I had to wear my black valentine's day socks with the pink hearts on them. And now you're all thinking what a lucky fucking guy the Kev-head is. Sweet Jesus. I'm waiting until 3:30 - and then I'm taking another pill. I hope you'll all come to my competency hearing.