Oh, that's not how that goes? My bad...
So for those of you who have been with me awhile, you'll recall that my debut post was about my failed attempt at auditioning for Rock Star, the second season. Well, they've revealed who the new band is going to be, and all I have to say is: Phew! Glad I didn't make THAT one.
CBS' "Rock Star""Rock Star" is adding some heavy mettle to its lineup this summer.
Drummer Tommy Lee (Motley Crue), along with guitarists Jason Newsted (Metallica) and Gilby Clarke (Guns N' Roses), are forming a new band called Supernova and will use the Mark BurnettMark Burnett-produced "Rock Star" to search for a lead singer.
Can't you just see me up there, in my flip-flops with my total NOT metal look (more like Old Navy on downers) jamming with Tommy Friggin' Lee?? OMG...I'd get herpes just looking at him up close. And let's think about the Kev-head for a minute. "Hey, honey, I'm going to go to Cali and hang out with Tommy Lee and Jason-the-rocking-good-looking bass player from Metallica for a few weeks. That okay with you? Great!" Yeah, we all know I used to have a severe problem with bass players. That would NEVER work out. The only way I'm getting on a reality show for singers is if it's an all chick band.
And the crowd that that band would attract? Yeah, not to stereotype metalheads or anything (Pea, Bets, you KNOW I totally love you) - but there is NO WAY a woman can front a band like that. Never.going.to.happen. Hell, there are a lot of AC/DC fans who still haven't forgiven them for Brian Johnson, and he actually IS a man. It would be like putting a chick in front of Lynyrd Skynyrd (who's set list from the Taste of Chicago is STILL in my drawer here at work, btw).
Anyway, I guess the moral of the story is "All's well that end's well" - I'm still bitter that Land of Confusion man got picked...they are going to eat that wanker alive. Not that I'm betting he made it past the Lafayette round.
Tying up some other loose ends:
My Pecker friend seems to have moved on to greener pastures. Maybe he found himself a girlfriend he can actually touch. I wish them years of happiness and lots of baby peckers, that will probably grow up to annoy me next year.
My shoulder was good, but now it's bad. I'm back on muscle relaxers. Have an MRI scheduled for next week.
When you make Sangria and intend to keep it for longer than a couple of days, take the fruit out. Eventually the fruit is all you taste and the whole thing goes sour. This is not good.
Always save your twist ties.
X3 wasn't all that great - you could wait for it to come out on video or be shown on TBS 500 times in a weekend.
I think a group of us need to check out the Southwest Michigan Wine Festival happening on June 24th. Who's with me?? Jen, looking for a reason to come up here???
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Gimme somethin' I can work with here....
WOW! What a weekend...I didn't even realize I hadn't blogged on Friday. I've been busy. Did you miss me?
Everyone have a good holiday weekend? Participate in activities you enjoy with people you enjoy? Get overserved? hehe...I think more than a few people were overserved at my house on Saturday. I know we plowed through almost 4 cases of beer, a full bottle of vodka...YEAH baby! Once again the egg toss was a big hit with kids and adults. And a big shout-out to our pyrotechnics team...who are really just pyros. The fireworks were great.
My party karma is BROKEN...BROKEN I say. No rain...none, zip, zero, zilch...not even a cloud. Hot as Hades on Saturday. No people huddling in my garage...no muddy shoes lined up in my hallway...no stacks of wet, dirty towels strewned about my house and yard. Just your normal everyday party trash. It was beautiful. Egg shells everywhere, broken water balloons littering the grass. So I'm beginning to believe that it's NOT me. Instead, I blame my mother. Yeah, that's right...the JANET is to blame, truly, for all of my party woes. I was going to blame both of my parents until my dad pointed out that during the great monsoon of Kevin's 40th, he was golfing with Kevin, and it wasn't raining where he was. So now, regrettably, I will never be able to invite my mother to my house for future parties. Mom, if you're reading this...I apologize in advance for blacklisting you, but it's really for the good of all. ;)
My favorite things from the weekend:
Sunday morning, from Julie: "Hayden, quit hanging around the trash can, you look like a fly."
Saturday night/Sunday morning, me: "I don't want to do this right now." (clean the kitchen...because I'm a 'little' intoxicated at this point)
Julie: "Let's get this done, you'll be so happy we did this in the morning. Just stand here and talk to me while I do it."
Me: "Well, I'm going to talk about how I don't want to be doing this right now."
Saturday afternoon: 12 boys swimming in my dirty-ass swimming pool. (We decided that in its partially ready state, it's still cleaner than Lake Michigan, so have at it)
Saturday afternoon: 12 boys with no shirts on, but with their white socks still on, playing footbal in my yard. (what's up with this??)
Saturday afternoon: 5 men standing around a HD in my garage not saying a word.
Sunday morning: 5 boys taking turns riding down the hill on a toddler scooter.
Sunday morning: Hayden rolling down the hill because he can.
Saturday night: The girls dubbin my fake Dolce&Gabbana's with the gold DG on the side my "Dollar General's"
We got some HD time in on Sunday and Monday. Kevin picked us up some very cool motorcycle shades at the bike show on Sunday. The wind doesn't get in and make your eyes water...I like them a lot. Chris wants to start some kind of pool as to how long it will take before Kevin and I are wearing Harley gear exclusively. Kevin will be sucked in to that WAY before me, peeps...and I already wear black all the time, so that doesn't count.
Not much to say today...whatya got?
Everyone have a good holiday weekend? Participate in activities you enjoy with people you enjoy? Get overserved? hehe...I think more than a few people were overserved at my house on Saturday. I know we plowed through almost 4 cases of beer, a full bottle of vodka...YEAH baby! Once again the egg toss was a big hit with kids and adults. And a big shout-out to our pyrotechnics team...who are really just pyros. The fireworks were great.
My party karma is BROKEN...BROKEN I say. No rain...none, zip, zero, zilch...not even a cloud. Hot as Hades on Saturday. No people huddling in my garage...no muddy shoes lined up in my hallway...no stacks of wet, dirty towels strewned about my house and yard. Just your normal everyday party trash. It was beautiful. Egg shells everywhere, broken water balloons littering the grass. So I'm beginning to believe that it's NOT me. Instead, I blame my mother. Yeah, that's right...the JANET is to blame, truly, for all of my party woes. I was going to blame both of my parents until my dad pointed out that during the great monsoon of Kevin's 40th, he was golfing with Kevin, and it wasn't raining where he was. So now, regrettably, I will never be able to invite my mother to my house for future parties. Mom, if you're reading this...I apologize in advance for blacklisting you, but it's really for the good of all. ;)
My favorite things from the weekend:
Sunday morning, from Julie: "Hayden, quit hanging around the trash can, you look like a fly."
Saturday night/Sunday morning, me: "I don't want to do this right now." (clean the kitchen...because I'm a 'little' intoxicated at this point)
Julie: "Let's get this done, you'll be so happy we did this in the morning. Just stand here and talk to me while I do it."
Me: "Well, I'm going to talk about how I don't want to be doing this right now."
Saturday afternoon: 12 boys swimming in my dirty-ass swimming pool. (We decided that in its partially ready state, it's still cleaner than Lake Michigan, so have at it)
Saturday afternoon: 12 boys with no shirts on, but with their white socks still on, playing footbal in my yard. (what's up with this??)
Saturday afternoon: 5 men standing around a HD in my garage not saying a word.
Sunday morning: 5 boys taking turns riding down the hill on a toddler scooter.
Sunday morning: Hayden rolling down the hill because he can.
Saturday night: The girls dubbin my fake Dolce&Gabbana's with the gold DG on the side my "Dollar General's"
We got some HD time in on Sunday and Monday. Kevin picked us up some very cool motorcycle shades at the bike show on Sunday. The wind doesn't get in and make your eyes water...I like them a lot. Chris wants to start some kind of pool as to how long it will take before Kevin and I are wearing Harley gear exclusively. Kevin will be sucked in to that WAY before me, peeps...and I already wear black all the time, so that doesn't count.
Not much to say today...whatya got?
Thursday, May 25, 2006
What's new pussycat...whoooaaaaaa...
So it's over...they're over...all of these shows that have ruled my DVR for the past few months. Seriously. The weather is getting nice and I cannot be addicted to any shows anymore.
Taylor Hicks wins! SOUL PATROL! SOUL PATROL! SOUL PATROL!
I loved him even when I didn't like him...when I wanted him to do more than "act" like Joe Cocker and Ray Charles. And over time I came to realize, this isn't an act...it really is him...and he can't help himself. He won me over very early on with "Levon" and cemented it with songs like "Living for the City" and "In the Ghetto"...he's the real deal and I'm so happy. His first CD will be total crap, they always are. We'll see what he does 2nd and 3rd after the AI production monkeys are through with him.
Enough of that AI bullshit...on to less important drivel...
My boss came into my office this morning and said "I have to give you credit, I don't know how you do it." He does this often...walks into my office assuming I've been lingering in the conversation he started in his head and just blurts out whatever is in the middle. Huh. "What are you talking about?" I ask. "The multitasking busy nights with baseball and homework and dinner and getting the kids to bed at a decent time. " Oh...THAT. It IS an artform, and one that I've perfected I might say. It's a team effort in my house, I have to give props to the Kev-head for helping with the chaos. (Although I fear that help is short-lived now that there's the HD in the picture)
But it's no wonder my boss is amazed and utterly confused by the whole thing. Multi-tasking is not a male trait. None of them can do it...nor do they try. It's genetically infused in them to only think about one thing at a time, and to not remember ANY scheduling that they themselves did not initiate. And even then it's a crapshoot. I have to remind Kevin every day ... EVERY DAY for a week before we have something coming up on the weekend. And every day is a new day, and everyday he exclaims "WHAT?" like it's the first time I've ever mentioned that we have people coming over, or a wedding to go to, or that we're flying out to Pittsburgh. WHAT? That's THIS weekend??? Yes, dear. There was one weekend when we had a dinner or something on Friday, a party on Saturday night and there was something on Sunday, too, but I can't remember what. We're laying in bed on like, Tuesday, and he casually rolls over and says "We don't have anything going on this weekend, do we?" I sat straight up in bed, STRAIGHT UP and shouted "You are fucking KIDDING me, right???" Because sometimes he is. But he wasn't. He had NO idea. NO IDEA. Unbe-fucking-lievable.
So it's no wonder that even though he's Coach Kevin I have to tell him when the games are and where they are and make sure the uniforms are clean and set out. He tried to trick me today by pretending he forgot about my eye doctor appt and that he has to pick up the boys. Yeah, really funny. I have nightmares about him forgetting shit like this and Alex falling asleep in some cubby in the library drooling all over some library book that I'll then have to pay for. Luckily school is almost over.
But why...why can't men remember anything? Kevin remembers lots of stuff for work, but nothing about home. It's like he gets out of that truck and leaves his brain there...nothing left for me but food...drink...sex...sleep...sex...work...it's his thing and for the most part I don't hold it against him. Like my birthday...or the kids' birthdays...or HIS birthday for that matter. He will never remember. I'm not offended. I just know that he won't remember a thing I tell him and that I'll have to repeat myself over and over. And then I'm nagging. And they wonder how we become nagging bitches?? Like it's just naturally there, like they haven't socially conditioned us for YEARS to remind them about everything, and then all of a sudden we remind them about one little thing and WHAM! They jump down our throats - "I've got it! You don't have to tell me 97 times!" Well excuse me Mr. Memory...but history has made it very clear I DO! It's a fine line...to balance the "reminders" with the "orders" and as my hubby likes to call it "Macho Woman Syndrome." But don't they realize that when they literally put us in charge of everything (dinner, shuffle service, making doctor's appts, prescriptions for life-saving medication, DVR programming, whether or not you have clean underwear/socks, social calendar) - it's very hard to know when to stop? And very hard to know when they'll want us to stop.
ETA: Today's musical selection: Nikka Costa...get your funk on y'all. It's that kind of weekend.
Taylor Hicks wins! SOUL PATROL! SOUL PATROL! SOUL PATROL!
I loved him even when I didn't like him...when I wanted him to do more than "act" like Joe Cocker and Ray Charles. And over time I came to realize, this isn't an act...it really is him...and he can't help himself. He won me over very early on with "Levon" and cemented it with songs like "Living for the City" and "In the Ghetto"...he's the real deal and I'm so happy. His first CD will be total crap, they always are. We'll see what he does 2nd and 3rd after the AI production monkeys are through with him.
Enough of that AI bullshit...on to less important drivel...
My boss came into my office this morning and said "I have to give you credit, I don't know how you do it." He does this often...walks into my office assuming I've been lingering in the conversation he started in his head and just blurts out whatever is in the middle. Huh. "What are you talking about?" I ask. "The multitasking busy nights with baseball and homework and dinner and getting the kids to bed at a decent time. " Oh...THAT. It IS an artform, and one that I've perfected I might say. It's a team effort in my house, I have to give props to the Kev-head for helping with the chaos. (Although I fear that help is short-lived now that there's the HD in the picture)
But it's no wonder my boss is amazed and utterly confused by the whole thing. Multi-tasking is not a male trait. None of them can do it...nor do they try. It's genetically infused in them to only think about one thing at a time, and to not remember ANY scheduling that they themselves did not initiate. And even then it's a crapshoot. I have to remind Kevin every day ... EVERY DAY for a week before we have something coming up on the weekend. And every day is a new day, and everyday he exclaims "WHAT?" like it's the first time I've ever mentioned that we have people coming over, or a wedding to go to, or that we're flying out to Pittsburgh. WHAT? That's THIS weekend??? Yes, dear. There was one weekend when we had a dinner or something on Friday, a party on Saturday night and there was something on Sunday, too, but I can't remember what. We're laying in bed on like, Tuesday, and he casually rolls over and says "We don't have anything going on this weekend, do we?" I sat straight up in bed, STRAIGHT UP and shouted "You are fucking KIDDING me, right???" Because sometimes he is. But he wasn't. He had NO idea. NO IDEA. Unbe-fucking-lievable.
So it's no wonder that even though he's Coach Kevin I have to tell him when the games are and where they are and make sure the uniforms are clean and set out. He tried to trick me today by pretending he forgot about my eye doctor appt and that he has to pick up the boys. Yeah, really funny. I have nightmares about him forgetting shit like this and Alex falling asleep in some cubby in the library drooling all over some library book that I'll then have to pay for. Luckily school is almost over.
But why...why can't men remember anything? Kevin remembers lots of stuff for work, but nothing about home. It's like he gets out of that truck and leaves his brain there...nothing left for me but food...drink...sex...sleep...sex...work...it's his thing and for the most part I don't hold it against him. Like my birthday...or the kids' birthdays...or HIS birthday for that matter. He will never remember. I'm not offended. I just know that he won't remember a thing I tell him and that I'll have to repeat myself over and over. And then I'm nagging. And they wonder how we become nagging bitches?? Like it's just naturally there, like they haven't socially conditioned us for YEARS to remind them about everything, and then all of a sudden we remind them about one little thing and WHAM! They jump down our throats - "I've got it! You don't have to tell me 97 times!" Well excuse me Mr. Memory...but history has made it very clear I DO! It's a fine line...to balance the "reminders" with the "orders" and as my hubby likes to call it "Macho Woman Syndrome." But don't they realize that when they literally put us in charge of everything (dinner, shuffle service, making doctor's appts, prescriptions for life-saving medication, DVR programming, whether or not you have clean underwear/socks, social calendar) - it's very hard to know when to stop? And very hard to know when they'll want us to stop.
ETA: Today's musical selection: Nikka Costa...get your funk on y'all. It's that kind of weekend.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
If I'm polite, will you go away??
I'd like to thank my bloggees for once again supplying me with my daily gripe.
People.
What is wrong with people these days? I just don't understand. We are the nice people, aren't we? All of us here in ramble-land...the NICE people...the understanding, rational, co-dependent, caregiving....oh wait, is that just me? Sorry. But mostly, we're the good guys. Why do people insist on being irrational, irritating, delusional wrecks every.single.day? I can only speak for myself here, but seriously, get a grip, people. Life is just not that bad that you have to take it out on me. Running out of Zoloft? Xanax? Valium?
The people here at my office...blog readers not included...calm down. Yes, we want you to report errors. Yes, we take them seriously. Yes, despite what you may think we DO want to HELP you. But coming to my office door, and lurking there...and then starting with "Hiiiiiiiiiiiii Rebecca. How are YOU todaaaaaay?" Ummmm, seriously...just spit it out. I want to help you...just tell me what's broken. Followed up with "So I tried to do such and such, and it's not working." What happens when you do such and such? "It doesn't work" Okay, work with me here...error message? Complete and total lock up of your machine? Snakes slithering out of your workstation? Give me something to work with. "Yeah, I get an error" What does it say? "I don't know"
And do you want to know WHY you don't know? Because you marched your happy ass all the way over here when you could have emailed me AND emailed the exact error. Now this person is mad at ME because I sent them back to their desk with the instructions "You're going to have to email me the error" - because I am many things. A blogger...an IT Goddess...a mother...a wife...a cat owner with a severe cat problem and a male cat who can't keep his shit to himself...a biker babe/bitch...a friend...a wine-o...but a mind-reader...that I'm not. Sorry folks. Give me details. I told her nicely. I'm sorry, I can't help you without more information, email me the error. Off in a huff. Sorry about ya babe...next time do what I've told you to do one million times. EMAIL ME. For the love.
And then there's the crazy stoner grandma on the baseball team. This woman is going to be the death of me. Approaches me at the ball field, during the game, which started at 6pm. THEY ALL START AT 6PM ON WEEKDAYS.
Crazy Stoner Grandma: "What time were the boys supposed to be here?"
Me: "I don't know, Kevin takes care of that."
CSG: "Well don't they want them here by 5:30?"
M: "I don't know, I guess."
CSG: "Well we were here and no one was here."
M: "I think ideally they want them here at 5:30, but the game starts at 6. So as long as they're here by 6, that's fine."
CSG: (in a huff now and kind of yelling at me) "So NO ONE was here for the 5:30 practice??"
M: "I don't know, I wasn't here. I come at 6 for the game. I'm sure someone was here, my husband was here."
CSG: "No, he wasn't...no one was. We went to the other field because no one was here."
M: "I don't know what to tell you, the schedule was clear."
CSG: "WELL FINE THEN." And stomps off.
First of all - I know of 3 families who were there by 5:15. They said so, and they weren't stoned.
Secondly - I know Kevin was there...I talked to him en route.
Third - SHUT UP CRAZY STONER GRANDMA. Seriously. I am NOT the coach...I am NOT involved. The field is not that big. You are so incoherent someone actually HAND-WROTE the schedule for you with the dates, times and places and YOU LEFT??? You left. And this is my fault HOW? Take your peace pipe and your naked granddaughter and get out of my face. This same woman yelled at me in Scouts because we were supposed to meet somewhere at 3:30...she called my house at 3:10 screaming because no one was there. Ummmm, you're 20 minutes early. Calm down. So for all I know she was at the ball field at 5 o'clock and got her panties in a wad and took off.
And jackass at the stoplight going straight when I needed to turn right and you couldn't move up 5 feet to let me do that...shut up.
And lady who cut me off in the school parking lot today...piss off. I hope where you had to be was so much more important than what I'm doing.
I had some actually funny things to say that I thought of last night about a completely different topic. But I can't remember what the topic was. I'm going to have to keep a handy, dandy, notebook on me so I can jot these thoughts down. They were HILARIOUS, and you would have loved them. But for now, let the bitching begin.
People.
What is wrong with people these days? I just don't understand. We are the nice people, aren't we? All of us here in ramble-land...the NICE people...the understanding, rational, co-dependent, caregiving....oh wait, is that just me? Sorry. But mostly, we're the good guys. Why do people insist on being irrational, irritating, delusional wrecks every.single.day? I can only speak for myself here, but seriously, get a grip, people. Life is just not that bad that you have to take it out on me. Running out of Zoloft? Xanax? Valium?
The people here at my office...blog readers not included...calm down. Yes, we want you to report errors. Yes, we take them seriously. Yes, despite what you may think we DO want to HELP you. But coming to my office door, and lurking there...and then starting with "Hiiiiiiiiiiiii Rebecca. How are YOU todaaaaaay?" Ummmm, seriously...just spit it out. I want to help you...just tell me what's broken. Followed up with "So I tried to do such and such, and it's not working." What happens when you do such and such? "It doesn't work" Okay, work with me here...error message? Complete and total lock up of your machine? Snakes slithering out of your workstation? Give me something to work with. "Yeah, I get an error" What does it say? "I don't know"
And do you want to know WHY you don't know? Because you marched your happy ass all the way over here when you could have emailed me AND emailed the exact error. Now this person is mad at ME because I sent them back to their desk with the instructions "You're going to have to email me the error" - because I am many things. A blogger...an IT Goddess...a mother...a wife...a cat owner with a severe cat problem and a male cat who can't keep his shit to himself...a biker babe/bitch...a friend...a wine-o...but a mind-reader...that I'm not. Sorry folks. Give me details. I told her nicely. I'm sorry, I can't help you without more information, email me the error. Off in a huff. Sorry about ya babe...next time do what I've told you to do one million times. EMAIL ME. For the love.
And then there's the crazy stoner grandma on the baseball team. This woman is going to be the death of me. Approaches me at the ball field, during the game, which started at 6pm. THEY ALL START AT 6PM ON WEEKDAYS.
Crazy Stoner Grandma: "What time were the boys supposed to be here?"
Me: "I don't know, Kevin takes care of that."
CSG: "Well don't they want them here by 5:30?"
M: "I don't know, I guess."
CSG: "Well we were here and no one was here."
M: "I think ideally they want them here at 5:30, but the game starts at 6. So as long as they're here by 6, that's fine."
CSG: (in a huff now and kind of yelling at me) "So NO ONE was here for the 5:30 practice??"
M: "I don't know, I wasn't here. I come at 6 for the game. I'm sure someone was here, my husband was here."
CSG: "No, he wasn't...no one was. We went to the other field because no one was here."
M: "I don't know what to tell you, the schedule was clear."
CSG: "WELL FINE THEN." And stomps off.
First of all - I know of 3 families who were there by 5:15. They said so, and they weren't stoned.
Secondly - I know Kevin was there...I talked to him en route.
Third - SHUT UP CRAZY STONER GRANDMA. Seriously. I am NOT the coach...I am NOT involved. The field is not that big. You are so incoherent someone actually HAND-WROTE the schedule for you with the dates, times and places and YOU LEFT??? You left. And this is my fault HOW? Take your peace pipe and your naked granddaughter and get out of my face. This same woman yelled at me in Scouts because we were supposed to meet somewhere at 3:30...she called my house at 3:10 screaming because no one was there. Ummmm, you're 20 minutes early. Calm down. So for all I know she was at the ball field at 5 o'clock and got her panties in a wad and took off.
And jackass at the stoplight going straight when I needed to turn right and you couldn't move up 5 feet to let me do that...shut up.
And lady who cut me off in the school parking lot today...piss off. I hope where you had to be was so much more important than what I'm doing.
I had some actually funny things to say that I thought of last night about a completely different topic. But I can't remember what the topic was. I'm going to have to keep a handy, dandy, notebook on me so I can jot these thoughts down. They were HILARIOUS, and you would have loved them. But for now, let the bitching begin.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
You don't know what we could find...
Why don't you come with me little girl, on a magic carpet ride...
Here it is boys and girls...
Yep, that's my man and his Harley - a bond no woman should ever even try to break. And that's his Harley friend, Randy. HI RANDY! Randy met us at the dealership with his bike so they could ride off into the sunset together. It was so sweet..*sniff* Tito...get me a tissue.
He logged 110 miles or so onto that bike on Saturday alone...I was only on it for 45 minutes or so and my ass is not happy with me. Seriously! This is bad. I'm old, old I say! I thought I was so cool, until I got off the damn thing and felt like I would be walking bow-legged for DAYS. Ugh. I had to take advil, people. Yeah, I'm HARD CORE BIKER material. So this just fosters a shitload of humorous comments for my husband's friends.
"Hey, are you a biker babe or a biker bitch?"
"Hey, you're riding in nothing but chaps, right?" Oh yeah, that's what I'm doing...jackasses. All of them. Because getting a motorcycle all of a sudden changes me into someone who wants to be naked in public? Not likely. Because then I would have to have a body that people would want to actually SEE...which would involve working out. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...see that's funny. I've had a health club membership for 2 years...I haven't stepped foot in that gym since I signed up. That's motivation and dedication right there, people...to continue to pay for something I know I will never use. Ever. And I might have to modify my diet, which right now consists of, well, whatever I want. And I like it that way, and my body likes it that way and my ass is getting larger, but I just attribute that to it being happy and liking it this way. Whatever. I'm 35 for crap's sake...modesty just doesn't go out the window.
But realistically...if I ever did shop the HD store...modesty isn't exactly a choice they're giving you. Holy hell. There was a nice sweater I liked...Kev-head vetoed it. Randy said I need something tighter. aaaaaaaagggggggghhhhh. I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for this whole mentality. I just bought two very nice sleeveless crocheted sweater top thingies at the Penney's. I'm wearing one today and it looks great with my black capris and heels, which are 9 West, btw...and I'm just supposed to trade this in on leather and straps and skin tight and ew ew ew ew ew no no no.
But the black I can get on board with. ;)
Owen's team won his game last night. That's 3 in a row for anyone who's keeping track.
Alex's guitar teacher died in his sleep Friday night of a massive coronary - he was 47. So let's everyone take better care of ourselves and get our cholesterol checked and all that good healthy stuff.
Here it is boys and girls...
Yep, that's my man and his Harley - a bond no woman should ever even try to break. And that's his Harley friend, Randy. HI RANDY! Randy met us at the dealership with his bike so they could ride off into the sunset together. It was so sweet..*sniff* Tito...get me a tissue.
He logged 110 miles or so onto that bike on Saturday alone...I was only on it for 45 minutes or so and my ass is not happy with me. Seriously! This is bad. I'm old, old I say! I thought I was so cool, until I got off the damn thing and felt like I would be walking bow-legged for DAYS. Ugh. I had to take advil, people. Yeah, I'm HARD CORE BIKER material. So this just fosters a shitload of humorous comments for my husband's friends.
"Hey, are you a biker babe or a biker bitch?"
"Hey, you're riding in nothing but chaps, right?" Oh yeah, that's what I'm doing...jackasses. All of them. Because getting a motorcycle all of a sudden changes me into someone who wants to be naked in public? Not likely. Because then I would have to have a body that people would want to actually SEE...which would involve working out. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...see that's funny. I've had a health club membership for 2 years...I haven't stepped foot in that gym since I signed up. That's motivation and dedication right there, people...to continue to pay for something I know I will never use. Ever. And I might have to modify my diet, which right now consists of, well, whatever I want. And I like it that way, and my body likes it that way and my ass is getting larger, but I just attribute that to it being happy and liking it this way. Whatever. I'm 35 for crap's sake...modesty just doesn't go out the window.
But realistically...if I ever did shop the HD store...modesty isn't exactly a choice they're giving you. Holy hell. There was a nice sweater I liked...Kev-head vetoed it. Randy said I need something tighter. aaaaaaaagggggggghhhhh. I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for this whole mentality. I just bought two very nice sleeveless crocheted sweater top thingies at the Penney's. I'm wearing one today and it looks great with my black capris and heels, which are 9 West, btw...and I'm just supposed to trade this in on leather and straps and skin tight and ew ew ew ew ew no no no.
But the black I can get on board with. ;)
Owen's team won his game last night. That's 3 in a row for anyone who's keeping track.
Alex's guitar teacher died in his sleep Friday night of a massive coronary - he was 47. So let's everyone take better care of ourselves and get our cholesterol checked and all that good healthy stuff.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Get your motor runnin', head out on the highway...
Lookin' for adventure
and whatever comes our way...
Yeah darlin' gonna make it happen - and that we did. In my garage, right now, is a 2006 Harley Davidson Softail Standard. Black with a seatback addition. Thank the Lord the weather was beautiful on Saturday and 'the man' got to ride...and ride...and ride. And Owen got to take a ride, smiling the whole way. And Owen got his first official Harley t-shirt. Kevin told him he wasn't allowed to be around him unless he was wearing it. HA! So this has made shopping for my husband terribly easy. All I have to do is stop at my nearest HD (hundred dollar) store, and pick him up something. It's a cult. It's kind of sick, and now we're totally sucked in.
Bikers on the whole are like this secret society. There are hand signals, rules of the road ... things you do and absolutely do not do. Apparently we have to learn it all. I probably offended a lot of bikers on Saturday by 'doing it wrong.' That's what I need...the pressure of high school all over again, of fitting in, of knowing the code. Aw geez...I was a band fag for crap's sake! What do I know about biker wear and signals and being a good biker bitch?! I know NOTHING! Is there a training course? We all know I bomb tests...I would never pass the class. How disappointing it would be to be the failed biker bitch at the gala. I won't know what to wear, I won't have the right bandana, or boots...but wait...does this mean I get to go shoe shopping? Okay, I could like this.
We're just cruising along with Kev-head's friend Randy and next thing you know, we're a pack. This group of 3 fell in behind us and there we were, all riding together and signalling together. I don't even know these people. What if they have some crazy street cred and now we're lumped in with them just by virtue of sharing the same stretch of highway? The pressure!
It was a good weekend overall...we got a lot of stuff planted, the yard mowed, played with the dogs...what did you do to enjoy the weather?
ETA: I totally took tons of gay pictures of my man and his bike, and my son on the bike and the man leaving the dealership on his bike like it was PROM or something. And then I totally left my camera in my purse. This is a problem you ask? Yes, because I left my purse at home. I am an idiot. UGH. There will be pictures tomorrow, I promise.
and whatever comes our way...
Yeah darlin' gonna make it happen - and that we did. In my garage, right now, is a 2006 Harley Davidson Softail Standard. Black with a seatback addition. Thank the Lord the weather was beautiful on Saturday and 'the man' got to ride...and ride...and ride. And Owen got to take a ride, smiling the whole way. And Owen got his first official Harley t-shirt. Kevin told him he wasn't allowed to be around him unless he was wearing it. HA! So this has made shopping for my husband terribly easy. All I have to do is stop at my nearest HD (hundred dollar) store, and pick him up something. It's a cult. It's kind of sick, and now we're totally sucked in.
Bikers on the whole are like this secret society. There are hand signals, rules of the road ... things you do and absolutely do not do. Apparently we have to learn it all. I probably offended a lot of bikers on Saturday by 'doing it wrong.' That's what I need...the pressure of high school all over again, of fitting in, of knowing the code. Aw geez...I was a band fag for crap's sake! What do I know about biker wear and signals and being a good biker bitch?! I know NOTHING! Is there a training course? We all know I bomb tests...I would never pass the class. How disappointing it would be to be the failed biker bitch at the gala. I won't know what to wear, I won't have the right bandana, or boots...but wait...does this mean I get to go shoe shopping? Okay, I could like this.
We're just cruising along with Kev-head's friend Randy and next thing you know, we're a pack. This group of 3 fell in behind us and there we were, all riding together and signalling together. I don't even know these people. What if they have some crazy street cred and now we're lumped in with them just by virtue of sharing the same stretch of highway? The pressure!
It was a good weekend overall...we got a lot of stuff planted, the yard mowed, played with the dogs...what did you do to enjoy the weather?
ETA: I totally took tons of gay pictures of my man and his bike, and my son on the bike and the man leaving the dealership on his bike like it was PROM or something. And then I totally left my camera in my purse. This is a problem you ask? Yes, because I left my purse at home. I am an idiot. UGH. There will be pictures tomorrow, I promise.
Friday, May 19, 2006
What are we going to do today, Brain?
What we do every day, Pinky. Try and take over the world!
TGIF TGIF TGIF
Finally, FRIDAY! I wasn't sure what I was going to bitch about today until Heather came strolling into my office this morning. So here's my rant. CLOTHESMAKERS OF THE WORLD, UNITE! For the love of all that is good and holy. Please. PLEASE talk to one another. The level of frustration I and my fellow females are experiencing in the dressing room is devastating. I am a size 10. I like to think the perfect size 10 except for these overly large fun bags that make me disproportionately top heavy. And I'm tall. But apparently not tall enough to be considered 'tall' by the people who make pants. I am, however, tall enough that when I buy the "average" or "medium" length pants, they SHRINK after the first washing and make me look completely gay. (Not at all a comparison to the overly stylish, completely wonderful gay people who may be reading this blog...I am a fag-hag of the highest order and have nothing but love for ya baby...gay in that 80's 'you're so gay' kind of way.) But if I buy the "tall" or "long" lengths, there is NO shrinkage whatsoever. Someone please explain this phenomenon to me.
And how is it that I'm a size 10 80% of the time, but a size 12 or even *gasp* a 14 other times. Yet I wear a size 8 skirt. aaaaaaaaggghhhhhhh. I can't even trust the same BRAND to fit me the same way anymore. I'm currently sitting in a size 11 Long Levis boot cut stretch fit. They are a little big on me, but whatever...so I see some stretch Levis at the Costco...cute, too...and cheap...YAY! They are on the even numbered system, so I pick up a 10...Long...and I can't even button them. Holy crap...not even close! And the length?? swimmingly long. Like, no way, even in heels long. I just bought a size 10 pair of pants at the Gap that are falling off me by the end of the day, but now I'm a 12/14 in LEVIS??? No. uh-uh...not going to happen. I had my fat phase. It was in college, like everyone else. I refuse to put anything that large in my armoir, no matter what Mr. Strauss says...he can take his 12's and ....
I had this problem at Penney's the other day, too, trying to shop for capris...so depressing. 12's too big, 10's too small...11's non-existent...am I that disproportioned? Can't anyone make clothes that just fit for crap's sake so I don't look like some teeny-bopper? I'm 30-friggin-5 - can't I find pants that look nice and not like I'm trolling for it? Seriously.
TGIF TGIF TGIF
Finally, FRIDAY! I wasn't sure what I was going to bitch about today until Heather came strolling into my office this morning. So here's my rant. CLOTHESMAKERS OF THE WORLD, UNITE! For the love of all that is good and holy. Please. PLEASE talk to one another. The level of frustration I and my fellow females are experiencing in the dressing room is devastating. I am a size 10. I like to think the perfect size 10 except for these overly large fun bags that make me disproportionately top heavy. And I'm tall. But apparently not tall enough to be considered 'tall' by the people who make pants. I am, however, tall enough that when I buy the "average" or "medium" length pants, they SHRINK after the first washing and make me look completely gay. (Not at all a comparison to the overly stylish, completely wonderful gay people who may be reading this blog...I am a fag-hag of the highest order and have nothing but love for ya baby...gay in that 80's 'you're so gay' kind of way.) But if I buy the "tall" or "long" lengths, there is NO shrinkage whatsoever. Someone please explain this phenomenon to me.
And how is it that I'm a size 10 80% of the time, but a size 12 or even *gasp* a 14 other times. Yet I wear a size 8 skirt. aaaaaaaaggghhhhhhh. I can't even trust the same BRAND to fit me the same way anymore. I'm currently sitting in a size 11 Long Levis boot cut stretch fit. They are a little big on me, but whatever...so I see some stretch Levis at the Costco...cute, too...and cheap...YAY! They are on the even numbered system, so I pick up a 10...Long...and I can't even button them. Holy crap...not even close! And the length?? swimmingly long. Like, no way, even in heels long. I just bought a size 10 pair of pants at the Gap that are falling off me by the end of the day, but now I'm a 12/14 in LEVIS??? No. uh-uh...not going to happen. I had my fat phase. It was in college, like everyone else. I refuse to put anything that large in my armoir, no matter what Mr. Strauss says...he can take his 12's and ....
I had this problem at Penney's the other day, too, trying to shop for capris...so depressing. 12's too big, 10's too small...11's non-existent...am I that disproportioned? Can't anyone make clothes that just fit for crap's sake so I don't look like some teeny-bopper? I'm 30-friggin-5 - can't I find pants that look nice and not like I'm trolling for it? Seriously.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Oh what a difference a day makes...
Yesterday was cleaning day at the Crumerosa...love those women. Love, love, LOVE them. It's not just in the way they clean, it's in the presentation. The different ways they arrange the stuff on your dresser, your sink. They're just so cool. AND because they were there, I had the draperies people come out and fix my vertical blinds in the bedroom. Talk about liberating! And it didn't even cost very much! So now my house is clean, my blinds are fixed, I have food in the frig, and sangria in the basement frig. It's fantastic.
Owen is having a birthday party next weekend. He's invited 15 boys and 4 girls. Yeah, that's right...oh my. That's what I get for having a kid who loves everyone. He really does. He would invite the whole 2-4 grades if I let him.
I'm hoping the weather will be nice...then it will be baseball in the yard and other outdoor games. Do you have an outdoor game for kids you loved? Please share! It's tradition to do an egg toss at our parties, so that's definitely on the schedule. But what else? If I'm potentially going to have 20 kids at my house, I need to keep them ENTERTAINED!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA - GOTCHA! We all know it's going to rain, because, well, I'm having a PARTY. So I guess what I really need is inside games. Besides pin the tail on the donkey. There's the balloon relay?
Remember the monsoon birthday of Owen's a couple of years ago? Right after we finished the basement? With NEW paint and carpeting? Remember the party the year before that? When Kevin let...encouraged even - all of the little nieces and nephews jump in the mud puddles? And I had to find a change of clothes for everyone? JACKASS.
Remember the typhoon of Kevin's 40th birthday party? Yeah, no one forgets that. The party where I was so drenched and mud-splattered that I didn't even shower. Hell I barely combed my hair and I had no make-up on. BRILLIANT. The party where Chris was body surfing the YOOOOOOGE puddles in my yard and lost his glasses? And I FOUND them??? The party that I had planned...for MONTHS...in the summer of a DROUGHT, people. A FUCKING DROUGHT...and yet...there it was, the 5 inches of standing water UNDER THE TENT that was supposed to protect us from the elements. I had planned for it to provide shade for the sun that was supposed to be out in force. But no.
The day ended well...with the ladies throwing down in the jumpy-jump. Boo-ya!! Did I mention cameras should be following me? Seriously. Funny. Stuff. Honestly, if you need it to rain, have me schedule something. Cub Scout Camping? Rains everytime. Camping with preschool? Rain. Last year I just wanted to have an end of the year Cub Scout cookout...rained. Last night I talked about grilling out...aaaaaaand, you guessed it. Rained. Farmers have dropped the almanac and are now consulting me on all things rain and crop circly.
I'm apologizing to the Anton family in advance for Father's Day. Now that the Crum's have decided to attend the game as well...I'm sure it will, you guessed it, RAIN.
Owen is having a birthday party next weekend. He's invited 15 boys and 4 girls. Yeah, that's right...oh my. That's what I get for having a kid who loves everyone. He really does. He would invite the whole 2-4 grades if I let him.
I'm hoping the weather will be nice...then it will be baseball in the yard and other outdoor games. Do you have an outdoor game for kids you loved? Please share! It's tradition to do an egg toss at our parties, so that's definitely on the schedule. But what else? If I'm potentially going to have 20 kids at my house, I need to keep them ENTERTAINED!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA - GOTCHA! We all know it's going to rain, because, well, I'm having a PARTY. So I guess what I really need is inside games. Besides pin the tail on the donkey. There's the balloon relay?
From Accuweather: Saturday, May 27
Rather cloudy with a couple of showers possible. Winds from the S at 9 mph.
High: 69° F
Couple of showers possible? POSSIBLE? I might as well just line the house with plastic now. Possible MY ASS. Weathermen bow in my general direction for singlehandedly changing weather patterns as they know them.Remember the monsoon birthday of Owen's a couple of years ago? Right after we finished the basement? With NEW paint and carpeting? Remember the party the year before that? When Kevin let...encouraged even - all of the little nieces and nephews jump in the mud puddles? And I had to find a change of clothes for everyone? JACKASS.
Remember the typhoon of Kevin's 40th birthday party? Yeah, no one forgets that. The party where I was so drenched and mud-splattered that I didn't even shower. Hell I barely combed my hair and I had no make-up on. BRILLIANT. The party where Chris was body surfing the YOOOOOOGE puddles in my yard and lost his glasses? And I FOUND them??? The party that I had planned...for MONTHS...in the summer of a DROUGHT, people. A FUCKING DROUGHT...and yet...there it was, the 5 inches of standing water UNDER THE TENT that was supposed to protect us from the elements. I had planned for it to provide shade for the sun that was supposed to be out in force. But no.
The day ended well...with the ladies throwing down in the jumpy-jump. Boo-ya!! Did I mention cameras should be following me? Seriously. Funny. Stuff. Honestly, if you need it to rain, have me schedule something. Cub Scout Camping? Rains everytime. Camping with preschool? Rain. Last year I just wanted to have an end of the year Cub Scout cookout...rained. Last night I talked about grilling out...aaaaaaand, you guessed it. Rained. Farmers have dropped the almanac and are now consulting me on all things rain and crop circly.
I'm apologizing to the Anton family in advance for Father's Day. Now that the Crum's have decided to attend the game as well...I'm sure it will, you guessed it, RAIN.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Are my standards too low?
So my husband thinks I'm crazy. This may not come as a shock to many of you. I bought two pairs of sandals off of ebay. Yes, I know I have a problem. No, I couldn't quit if I wanted to. Kevin thinks it's weird to buy shoes that someone else has worn. Now the last pair I bought was new, so that was fine. But both of these pairs basically said "wore them once, can't walk in heels".
Seriously, Pecker...go away!
Sorry about that...he's getting increasingly more frantic.
Anyway...so these chicks can't walk in heels, and I can, so I get a deal and I don't see what the problem is. The soles are not worn, not even a little, there are no toe indentations. There are indicators that shoes have been worn several times, none of these things are the case with these two pairs of shoes. They look GREAT! But Kevin's still harping "What if they had some sort of foot fungus?" or "What if they had a toe jam problem?" Seriously. Toe jam? It's not exactly something that just comes creeping out. You usually have to dig for that, don't you? Shut up, Kevin.
Am I wrong? Is it wrong to buy pre-owned, gently-worn shoes?
But then again, all this from a man who just bought a Harley. Yes, he really did. Yes, I knew about it ahead of time even though he bought it while I was out of town. No, we haven't picked it up yet. The only word that really exists in his vocabulary right now is 'chrome'. I bet if these were CHROME sandals, he would be all for it. But no, they're leather. Leather used to excite him. HA! Just kidding. Now it's all about the c-h-r-o-m-e. Pa-thetic. We pick the darn thing up on Saturday and I'm sure I won't see him the rest of the day.
Owen's team won their first game last night! Whooo-hooo! Coach Kevin said that Owen had a couple of triples and a single, and fielded well. The rest of the team looked great. I wasn't there because I was attending the Fine Arts Festival at Alex's school. This basically means "spring concert" - which basically means sitting on uncomfortable carpeted bleacher-like things for a couple of hours while every kid in the school prances out in their Sunday best to sing with their respective choirs. The highlight for me? when one of the third grade boys was perpetually yawning during their performance. Hilarious. Get that kid a nap for crap's sake.
We had no issues with ketchup-stained shirts or gum with this event. Alex played cymbal and then timpani - he actually did really well with that. Someone help me, I really do think I'm raising a drummer. Shit.
Seriously, Pecker...go away!
Sorry about that...he's getting increasingly more frantic.
Anyway...so these chicks can't walk in heels, and I can, so I get a deal and I don't see what the problem is. The soles are not worn, not even a little, there are no toe indentations. There are indicators that shoes have been worn several times, none of these things are the case with these two pairs of shoes. They look GREAT! But Kevin's still harping "What if they had some sort of foot fungus?" or "What if they had a toe jam problem?" Seriously. Toe jam? It's not exactly something that just comes creeping out. You usually have to dig for that, don't you? Shut up, Kevin.
Am I wrong? Is it wrong to buy pre-owned, gently-worn shoes?
But then again, all this from a man who just bought a Harley. Yes, he really did. Yes, I knew about it ahead of time even though he bought it while I was out of town. No, we haven't picked it up yet. The only word that really exists in his vocabulary right now is 'chrome'. I bet if these were CHROME sandals, he would be all for it. But no, they're leather. Leather used to excite him. HA! Just kidding. Now it's all about the c-h-r-o-m-e. Pa-thetic. We pick the darn thing up on Saturday and I'm sure I won't see him the rest of the day.
Owen's team won their first game last night! Whooo-hooo! Coach Kevin said that Owen had a couple of triples and a single, and fielded well. The rest of the team looked great. I wasn't there because I was attending the Fine Arts Festival at Alex's school. This basically means "spring concert" - which basically means sitting on uncomfortable carpeted bleacher-like things for a couple of hours while every kid in the school prances out in their Sunday best to sing with their respective choirs. The highlight for me? when one of the third grade boys was perpetually yawning during their performance. Hilarious. Get that kid a nap for crap's sake.
We had no issues with ketchup-stained shirts or gum with this event. Alex played cymbal and then timpani - he actually did really well with that. Someone help me, I really do think I'm raising a drummer. Shit.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
My little pecker...
Here he is...the maniac sitting in the tree outide my window right now singing his little heart out.
And I'm free....free fallin'
So this is a photo of the kids riding the pirate ship at the BBQ fest. Their faces are funny enough, but check out the kid in front of them. This kid is TERRIFIED. I mean, I don't want to laugh at someone else's pain, but I totally am. LOOK AT HIM!
Apparently, and I didn't realize this at the time, the theme for the weekend was to make the "devil rock sign" with your hands in photos...
Julie was kind enough to point this out on Sunday...good stuff. I think Jen and I are actually saying "I love you" instead of rock on...but whatever.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Nature vs. humanity...
OMG - so I have a new friend...he looks like the guy over here on the right. And he thinks he's found a mate in my window. He is a song sparrow. So he's just hangin' out outside my window...bashing himself into his reflection, thinking he's found himself a hot momma. He's even singing to himself. It's making me crazy. I have a stress ball here on my desk that I hurl over there every now and again to get him to fly away, but he keeps coming back for more. Someone help me.
Julie thinks he's cute and that I should name him. She suggested Cocoa. Who-da-wa?? I countered with "deadbird." She countered with "Pecker"...NICE.
Which brings back a memory of a T-shirt my dad had when I was a kid. It was a picture of this cartoon bird, with horns...and underneath it said...wait for it..."Horny Pecker." Now my dad was a lot of things, but not really a perv. But here he was, with this shirt. We got it on our family vacation to Ocean City, MD...because there was some restaurant out there, I think it was called "Peckers" and they had all of these novelty shirts. I remember that this shirt was a big deal between Julie and my dad...that whenever she wanted to give him a hard time, she would bring up the horny pecker shirt, and this would always crack my dad up.
It's the little things.
Ohhh, I love the nightlife, I've got to boogie...
Total.rockstar.weekend.
What a great fun visit with my girlfriend Jen. Started off with Friday night. The boys and I got in around 10pm and started feasting on munchies. Jen popped open a bottle of red - Mad Dogs & Englishmen - a nice shiraz cab from Spain. Well, once the wine started flowing, Jen and I realized we had a lot of catching up to do. I think there are SEVERAL conversations we didn't finish. I still don't know the complete plan for the redecoration that's happening to the basement...and we started that conversation at least 4 times. It was about 12:45 in the morning when I realized I hadn't told the boys to go to bed. oops. Jen and I proceeded to carry on until 4. That's 4AM kids. WHAT? Hilarious...the highlight of the evening was me kicking it old school to some Montell Jordan. I thought Jen was going to pee her pants. Ask her about it sometime...we're funny. Red wine does that to ya. Ask Julie...we've had evenings, turned into mornings where we've chatted in every room of my house. Good times...
We slept in on Saturday and went to the BBQ fest in the afternoon. It did not disappoint. Mutton sandwiches, burgoo, fried green tomatoes, roasted corn on the cob...more burgoo...bloomin' onion...sliced bbq pork off the grill...BRILLIANT!
The most fantastical part of the day...the discovery of the inflatable obstacle course. You've all see the moonwalks, right? Well this is a jumpy-jump obstacle course. I paid for the boys to have 6 races while Jen and I shopped for sunglasses. Well, when we got back there to get them...we bought a round ourselves. Yeah, that's right, me and Jen duking it out on the obstacle course. I'm sure the people running it thought we had been drinking, but surprisingly enough, we HADN'T HAD A DROP. (Unlike the famed carousel ride of Julie&Rebecca in St. Charles...now THAT was a sight.) Was it carry over from the wine the night before? OMG. So you had to climb through this hole, go up and over a wall, shimmy under these tubes, climb through another hole, wrestle your way through an inflatable wall and then PULL YOURSELF UP WITH A ROPE to climb to the top of the slide and slide down. Well...being in peak physical condition like I am...you can imagine that I looked graceful as a gazelle navigating this course. YEAH RIGHT. I didn't climb the first wall, I flopped myself over it...and the rope thing? Did you guys see "An Officer and a Gentleman" or "Full Metal Jacket" - get them. Watch any scenes involving fat people unable to climb a rope wall. That was me. Not pretty. Jen won, the bitch. I came down the slide on my head. Not kidding...gravity took over at the top. BUT...sliding through stuff she somehow managed to get vinyl burns on her elbows. She's still in pain today. This is why cameras should be following me at all times.
We went out in the evening and caught a so-so alternative band that people love, a super bad country band, found ourselves in the American Legion. I think I got hit on by the commander...seriously...and he talked just like the guy from "King of the Hill" - and wore his baseball hat alarmingly high on his head. We befriended Marine Corps recruiters in the jazz club we went to, and they were getting free drinks, so then, SO WERE WE! BRILLIANT! We danced to bad (which means GREAT) disco, I sang with the band, we stayed out WAAAAAAAY too late.
Unfortunately I left my cable for my camera at home, so I can't share any of the pics of the boys on the mechanical bull or Jen and I being silly...and no, there are no pictures of us on the obstacle course. Thank the Lord.
What a great fun visit with my girlfriend Jen. Started off with Friday night. The boys and I got in around 10pm and started feasting on munchies. Jen popped open a bottle of red - Mad Dogs & Englishmen - a nice shiraz cab from Spain. Well, once the wine started flowing, Jen and I realized we had a lot of catching up to do. I think there are SEVERAL conversations we didn't finish. I still don't know the complete plan for the redecoration that's happening to the basement...and we started that conversation at least 4 times. It was about 12:45 in the morning when I realized I hadn't told the boys to go to bed. oops. Jen and I proceeded to carry on until 4. That's 4AM kids. WHAT? Hilarious...the highlight of the evening was me kicking it old school to some Montell Jordan. I thought Jen was going to pee her pants. Ask her about it sometime...we're funny. Red wine does that to ya. Ask Julie...we've had evenings, turned into mornings where we've chatted in every room of my house. Good times...
We slept in on Saturday and went to the BBQ fest in the afternoon. It did not disappoint. Mutton sandwiches, burgoo, fried green tomatoes, roasted corn on the cob...more burgoo...bloomin' onion...sliced bbq pork off the grill...BRILLIANT!
The most fantastical part of the day...the discovery of the inflatable obstacle course. You've all see the moonwalks, right? Well this is a jumpy-jump obstacle course. I paid for the boys to have 6 races while Jen and I shopped for sunglasses. Well, when we got back there to get them...we bought a round ourselves. Yeah, that's right, me and Jen duking it out on the obstacle course. I'm sure the people running it thought we had been drinking, but surprisingly enough, we HADN'T HAD A DROP. (Unlike the famed carousel ride of Julie&Rebecca in St. Charles...now THAT was a sight.) Was it carry over from the wine the night before? OMG. So you had to climb through this hole, go up and over a wall, shimmy under these tubes, climb through another hole, wrestle your way through an inflatable wall and then PULL YOURSELF UP WITH A ROPE to climb to the top of the slide and slide down. Well...being in peak physical condition like I am...you can imagine that I looked graceful as a gazelle navigating this course. YEAH RIGHT. I didn't climb the first wall, I flopped myself over it...and the rope thing? Did you guys see "An Officer and a Gentleman" or "Full Metal Jacket" - get them. Watch any scenes involving fat people unable to climb a rope wall. That was me. Not pretty. Jen won, the bitch. I came down the slide on my head. Not kidding...gravity took over at the top. BUT...sliding through stuff she somehow managed to get vinyl burns on her elbows. She's still in pain today. This is why cameras should be following me at all times.
We went out in the evening and caught a so-so alternative band that people love, a super bad country band, found ourselves in the American Legion. I think I got hit on by the commander...seriously...and he talked just like the guy from "King of the Hill" - and wore his baseball hat alarmingly high on his head. We befriended Marine Corps recruiters in the jazz club we went to, and they were getting free drinks, so then, SO WERE WE! BRILLIANT! We danced to bad (which means GREAT) disco, I sang with the band, we stayed out WAAAAAAAY too late.
Unfortunately I left my cable for my camera at home, so I can't share any of the pics of the boys on the mechanical bull or Jen and I being silly...and no, there are no pictures of us on the obstacle course. Thank the Lord.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Heeeeeeeeeeere's Owie!
Well, here he is, my bald-headed stubbly boy. I can't believe how much has grown out already.Amazing. I now understand why Chris has a spot worn out on the head-rest portion of his armchair. I went to kiss the boy good-night last night on the top of his head and got scruff burn. Not good.
Wednesnesday night was the Kiwanis Banquet for honors students in Crown Point. OMG. It was long and drawn out, but still a nice event. Trinity Lutheran was the.last.school. to get to announce their people. And we only had eight. Now just to give you an idea of what was going on here...there were 4 schools present...Taft MS, CPHS, St. Mary's and Trinity. Taft had about 50 kids, CPHS had 60 in the freshman class ALONE, 30 in the sophomore and about 20 juniors and seniors. Not everyone was present, thank the Lord.
Each honoree had to fill out an info sheet. Who you are, where you live, your parents' names, your awards, your hobbies, your future plans. They read these sheets. On every kid. EVERY.KID. Some of these kids have done a lot of shit, I can tell you that...and I heard all about it. And they weren't even serving booze, people, to help get me through it. Something about it being held in a school. 2.5 hours of me listening to "Susie won the art competition in the third grade" and how "Joe likes to take long walks on the beach." I'm not kidding. One hilarious freshman wrote that he likes to take long walks on the beach. I hope his parents appreciated his humor. It had to be hell to hear that read out loud while you're standing there in front of a room full of parents and students...about 200 of us at least. It was a much needed break in the monotony of it all.So Alex's turn. Dear Lord. He spilled ketchup on his shirt at lunch. Of course he did. I was scrubbing it out before the event and told him to hold his certificate in front of his stomach when he was standing up there. There is no comfortable way for Alex to do anything that involves other people I've discovered.
My mother had given him a piece of gum and specifically asked me if he should spit it out before he goes up there. I said nah, he'll be all right. Someone smack me. Please. Hard. What was I thinking. In an effort to not chew his gum with his mouth open, he stood up there and chewed it...with his mouth closed...looking like some sort of rubber-faced, slack-jawed cartoon character. It was not all right. It was the very opposite of all right. And everytime I would gesture at him to.please.stop.chewing...he would turn red. And laugh. While he uncomfortably holds his certificate in front of the ketchup stain on his shirt. And the audience would laugh. Someone shoot me.
Can you see that he wants to light himself on fire? Really...he totally did. My son cannot handle this kind of attention on him. He was mortified. It was the funniest thing I've ever seen. I'm mean,I know this, to laugh at my son's pain. But it's good for him. Really. He'll have something to tell his therapist.
Pictures from the BBQ fest to come...I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.
Have a good weekend everyone!
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Say hello to my little friend...
Hi, my name's Rebecca, and I'm an iTunes-a-holic...HI REBECCA!
I'd like to give a personal, embarrassing shout-out to the jackass who lurks on this blog and got me addicted to iTunes. He is a pimp of the highest order...so thanks mykl. I just upgraded myself from the iPod shuffle to the 2GB iPod Nano. And boy is it pretty. I was going to get the 1GB. Really, I was. Seriously. But then, for only $50 more, I could get a whole gig more. A WHOLE GIG! What was I supposed to do? Just pass that up? It's 250 MORE songs!! Now of course the 4GB was only $50 more than THAT, and I managed to show some restraint and pass that one up. So be proud. Occasionally I can reign it in.
It's my Mother's Day present to myself from my family...thanks family! This is how the holidays usually go. I tell my husband not to buy me anything so I can go buy my own gift, because then I know it will be exactly what I want. BRILLIANT. Now the Kev-head does usually take care of me on Valentine's Day and anniversaries and the like, but for my birthday, mother's day and Christmas, it's all me. A woman just can't buy her own Valentine's Day gift, can she? hmmmm.
My friend Jen scoffed at me when I told her I had no problem filling my shuffle with 120 songs. I said I was feeling pretty confident the 500 songs this nano will hold will be okay. For awhile. I told her I average $20/month on iTunes. She found this number staggering. Among my most embarrassing downloads? Just today I grabbed the soundtrack to "High School Musical" for the boys on the way down to Kentucky this weekend. I also picked up Poison's Greatest Hits for my hair-band loving hubby and a shopping cart full of Prince before we went to see that concert a couple of years ago. Most recently I've been catching up on my Stevie Nicks catalog and I just grabbed the Mark Knopfler/Emmylou Harris duet CD last week (or was that the week before?) I lose track. Anyway, the duet CD is a fantastic listen, I highly recommend it.
I have more embarrassing tracks that I didn't download, I actually bought the CD. Like 100% Pure Funk volumes 1 AND 2. You can't have too much funk, my friends. I mean really, sing it....
I believe in miracles
Where ya from?
You sexy thing
(You sexy thing you)
AND
Workin' at the car wash
talking about the car wash yeah!
Seriously good stuff there people.
So, do you iTunes? No? How come? You don't need an iPod to iTunes, people. You can still download and make your own crazy mix CD's. What are you listening to today? I'm in a Stevie Nicks place big time...but I threw it in with my regular playlist, so coming up we've got...
Dum Diddly - Black Eyed Peas
Baby I Love You - Aretha Franklin
Do I Ever Cross Your Mind - Ray Charles and Bonnie Raitt
Which reminds me...I need to go grab everything Bonnie Raitt's ever done. That will be a few months project...see? It's never ending.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Memories, like the corners of my mind...
Misty water colored memories
of the way we were....
Remember how it used to be...remember how I used to type stupid shit and occasionally someone would respond...and then people would respond to that..and so on, and so on...
What is going on out there people? Do I offend?? (see Ducky in Pretty in Pink.) Am I talking to myself these days? I know Kathy's reading, because she tells me here in the office. But where are the rest of you???
Wait, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah, memory. I don't have one. Now I can still out-remember my husband and occasionally my boss (though not-so-much anymore, and that's concerning him, because as he says..."You're the one with the memory, reb pak, I rely on you for this." Which makes it increasingly painful when he asks me something and my answer is "I don't remember." What is my purpose here if not to remember shit??
Phone numbers that were strategically stored for every friend I've ever had, home, work, cell - all available at a moment's concentration, GONE!
I had to drive to fucking Roselawn today on my lunch hour to pay my property taxes because I set out the payment coupon LAST WEEK and then forgot to pay it. Repeatedly. As in every day. For a week. Can you see the problem here?
I can't remember that we're out of cat food unless I write a note and put it on my cell phone. Speaking of which...we're out of cat food...hang on...
Okay. Note written. I'm telling people I'll do things and then the moment I walk away, I've forgotten that I've said it. And then they call me and ask me if I've done such-and-such. And I lie, and tell them I have...even though I've completely spaced it...and then I do it RIGHT THEN. I need a person to follow me around with a notepad just to remind me what I've said. Maybe I should just buy a little tape recorder and record any and all conversations I've had in my day. Maybe I should be like that guy on Memento and start writing everything on my arms and legs in pen.
Last night when I came home, I was supposed to create and print a flyer about cub scout fishing trip. I was talking about it half the night at the concession stand. Did I create said flyer? Ummmmm, no. I did watch House and then my recorded Idol...and then I tried to remember what it was I wanted to do to no avail. I thought I remembered once...and went upstairs to do it. And by the time I got upstairs to do whatever it was I'd remembered...I forgot why I went upstairs. Seriously. It's a problem.
Is it the diet coke? Because I've been drastically cutting down my intake to one or two per day. Trying to drink more water to lube up my ... muscles you perverts. Geez. When you have the muscular shoulder problem I'm having you do not want to dehydrate yourself, that's for sure.
Do I need some ginko biloba or whatever the hell it is to boost my memory? Do I have adult attention deficit disorder? Is it...gasp...my age? I'm only 35 for crap's sake...memory loss doesn't kick in now does it? Oy.
Laura told me today that working the sudoku puzzles is supposed to be an exercise in memory work. Really? Because I find them an exercise in maddening uncontrollable frustration. You see I've graduated to the insanely hard puzzles...the key word here being INSANE. Which is what they're making me. So I had to give them up for awhile. I'm in a 12-step program for it. It's cool. I've forgiven myself. See how far I've come?
Batteries...milk...lettuce...
of the way we were....
Remember how it used to be...remember how I used to type stupid shit and occasionally someone would respond...and then people would respond to that..and so on, and so on...
What is going on out there people? Do I offend?? (see Ducky in Pretty in Pink.) Am I talking to myself these days? I know Kathy's reading, because she tells me here in the office. But where are the rest of you???
Wait, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah, memory. I don't have one. Now I can still out-remember my husband and occasionally my boss (though not-so-much anymore, and that's concerning him, because as he says..."You're the one with the memory, reb pak, I rely on you for this." Which makes it increasingly painful when he asks me something and my answer is "I don't remember." What is my purpose here if not to remember shit??
Phone numbers that were strategically stored for every friend I've ever had, home, work, cell - all available at a moment's concentration, GONE!
I had to drive to fucking Roselawn today on my lunch hour to pay my property taxes because I set out the payment coupon LAST WEEK and then forgot to pay it. Repeatedly. As in every day. For a week. Can you see the problem here?
I can't remember that we're out of cat food unless I write a note and put it on my cell phone. Speaking of which...we're out of cat food...hang on...
Okay. Note written. I'm telling people I'll do things and then the moment I walk away, I've forgotten that I've said it. And then they call me and ask me if I've done such-and-such. And I lie, and tell them I have...even though I've completely spaced it...and then I do it RIGHT THEN. I need a person to follow me around with a notepad just to remind me what I've said. Maybe I should just buy a little tape recorder and record any and all conversations I've had in my day. Maybe I should be like that guy on Memento and start writing everything on my arms and legs in pen.
Last night when I came home, I was supposed to create and print a flyer about cub scout fishing trip. I was talking about it half the night at the concession stand. Did I create said flyer? Ummmmm, no. I did watch House and then my recorded Idol...and then I tried to remember what it was I wanted to do to no avail. I thought I remembered once...and went upstairs to do it. And by the time I got upstairs to do whatever it was I'd remembered...I forgot why I went upstairs. Seriously. It's a problem.
Is it the diet coke? Because I've been drastically cutting down my intake to one or two per day. Trying to drink more water to lube up my ... muscles you perverts. Geez. When you have the muscular shoulder problem I'm having you do not want to dehydrate yourself, that's for sure.
Do I need some ginko biloba or whatever the hell it is to boost my memory? Do I have adult attention deficit disorder? Is it...gasp...my age? I'm only 35 for crap's sake...memory loss doesn't kick in now does it? Oy.
Laura told me today that working the sudoku puzzles is supposed to be an exercise in memory work. Really? Because I find them an exercise in maddening uncontrollable frustration. You see I've graduated to the insanely hard puzzles...the key word here being INSANE. Which is what they're making me. So I had to give them up for awhile. I'm in a 12-step program for it. It's cool. I've forgiven myself. See how far I've come?
Batteries...milk...lettuce...
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
But there is no joy in Mudville--great Casey has struck out.
Oh it's a mother's worst nightmare. Seeing her child feel like he has failed. Top of the 6th (we only play 6 innings), runners on 1st and 2nd, down by 1 run, 2 outs...and here comes Owen up to bat. He didn't strike out...he grounded out to first. The ball was inside and actually hit more of the handle of the bat than anything. He was devastated that his play was the last play of the game. I tried to reassure him that he was NOT the reason they lost the game. I tried to remind him that they wouldn't have been as close as they were if he hadn't blasted it into center field on his last at-bat. I tried to tell him that lots of boys dropped balls, overthrew balls, struck out...to no avail. The mighty Casey was in tears.
Heartbreaking. Simply heartbreaking, that's what it was. Not that we lost...I could care less. But that my boy was feeling like he held the weight of his team on his shoulders and didn't deliver. I was almost in tears myself. This morning he seemed better...I pray he is not reliving that at-bat over and over in his head today. I've been there. It's not pretty.
On an even sadder note, my batteries ran out in my digital, so I have no pictures to post of my bald-headed baseball boy. It's something to see. There is nothing more nerve-racking than taking a razor to your kid's head. OMG. I was scared to death I was going to cut him. I will get batteries today and post a pic tomorrow, I promise. Hopefully he'll have a little more color on that noggin by then and it won't look so freakishly white.
Tonight I get to work the concession stand at the ball field. Ah yes...brings back the days of the Burger King drive-thru. The smell of burgers and dogs and me with ketchup on my shirt...and in my hair...and on my shoes. I'd better change my shoes before I go there. And my shirt...and my pants for that matter. Why oh why didn't I put a change of clothes in my car this morning??? ack. My boss asked me if I was going to be inept at the concession stand...he insists all the moms that work at the concession stand cannot remember a thing. I assured him with my background in fast food management that the stand would be running at optimal organization tonight. I can certainly face down a bunch of screaming little leaguers right? Right? Can they be any grumpier than the regular who came through every morning for a coffee? The lady who wanted her croissant with just sausage, no cheese and make sure it's fresh. The dude who insisted he ordered his Whopper WITH CHEESE, though I know he did not, and would always come back to have the cheese added later so he wouldn't get charged. Sneaky little bastard. He thought I didn't notice...the truth is I didn't CARE. I was wearing a button down covered in condiments and a BOW-TIE for crap's sake...take your friggin' cheese and go away.
oooooh, sorry...flashbacks.
Elvis night on Idol tonight folks...I have it on good authority 'Suspicious Minds' will be one of the ditties...tip your hats towards Nashville, kids. And think of your favorite tune by the King...
Heartbreaking. Simply heartbreaking, that's what it was. Not that we lost...I could care less. But that my boy was feeling like he held the weight of his team on his shoulders and didn't deliver. I was almost in tears myself. This morning he seemed better...I pray he is not reliving that at-bat over and over in his head today. I've been there. It's not pretty.
On an even sadder note, my batteries ran out in my digital, so I have no pictures to post of my bald-headed baseball boy. It's something to see. There is nothing more nerve-racking than taking a razor to your kid's head. OMG. I was scared to death I was going to cut him. I will get batteries today and post a pic tomorrow, I promise. Hopefully he'll have a little more color on that noggin by then and it won't look so freakishly white.
Tonight I get to work the concession stand at the ball field. Ah yes...brings back the days of the Burger King drive-thru. The smell of burgers and dogs and me with ketchup on my shirt...and in my hair...and on my shoes. I'd better change my shoes before I go there. And my shirt...and my pants for that matter. Why oh why didn't I put a change of clothes in my car this morning??? ack. My boss asked me if I was going to be inept at the concession stand...he insists all the moms that work at the concession stand cannot remember a thing. I assured him with my background in fast food management that the stand would be running at optimal organization tonight. I can certainly face down a bunch of screaming little leaguers right? Right? Can they be any grumpier than the regular who came through every morning for a coffee? The lady who wanted her croissant with just sausage, no cheese and make sure it's fresh. The dude who insisted he ordered his Whopper WITH CHEESE, though I know he did not, and would always come back to have the cheese added later so he wouldn't get charged. Sneaky little bastard. He thought I didn't notice...the truth is I didn't CARE. I was wearing a button down covered in condiments and a BOW-TIE for crap's sake...take your friggin' cheese and go away.
oooooh, sorry...flashbacks.
Elvis night on Idol tonight folks...I have it on good authority 'Suspicious Minds' will be one of the ditties...tip your hats towards Nashville, kids. And think of your favorite tune by the King...
Monday, May 08, 2006
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day...
Ah yes, time. The most expensive and important commodity ever. This was a really fantastic weekend at the Crumerosa. As usual it was action-packed, but unlike most weekends, there were down periods. And as the Kev-head said, when we were sitting on the deck on Sunday afternoon, it's times like this when he remembers why we moved out to the boonies to begin with.
Friday night found Owen on a lawn mower right after school. His friend Noah called to see if he could come over and play. I informed Noah that Owen was mowing the grass and that he would call him when he was finished. (*remember this for later) Owen called Noah, but there was no answer at the house, so Owen and I went to the Lincoln Elementary Talent Show. Ahhh, the memories. Me, dressed up like Michael Jackson, complete with sequined glove, red jacket, black floods with white socks and of course, sunglasses. I wore my hair curly. I danced on the stage to "Thriller", complete with moonwalk, knee slides and standing on my toes. It was BRILLIANT in my head. I can remember Doreen Biggs, who was performing a tap dance number, telling me what a great dancer I was. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? I had no choreography. It was me, out there, by myself, gyrating and sliding and moonwalking all over, recalling any moves I could from the infamous video. And this was in the 7th grade, people. I was BEYOND old enough to know better. Looking back, I'm sure the parents in the audience wanted to light themselves on fire. I will dig up pictures of this and post them sometime. I was a sight to see.
This talent show featured kids I know through scouts and little league...and a couple of Owen's classmates. Most of it was hilarious, as you would expect. One of Owen's friends was in a group dance number. They actually had choreography...there were 6 girls and 2 boys out there doing their thing. It was ab fab. Lots of singers, the highlight of which was a little boy on Owen's baseball team...Alec Long. Love this kid. He sang a Toby Keith number in a cowboy hat and boots selling it all the way. And his voice was actually pretty darn good, especially considering he's SEVEN! I found out later that his mother totally bribed him with money to go out there and do his thing. Classic. One boy performed feats of double-jointedness to music. There's little Brandon, a first grader, just standing there as some hip-hop song starts, chewing his finger nails and then BAM! He jumps and lands in a double splits... and then he BAM! whips is one leg up and over his head and around his neck while stretching the other leg behind him. You could hear every man in the audience yelling "ohhhhhhhh!" with every move. He contorted himself about 10 different ways and then calmly stood up and took a bow. OMG.
*So Saturday morning at the baseball field I run into Noah's mother.
Noah's mom: So I have to tell you, Noah thinks you're totally confused.
Me: Confused about what?
NM: Well, he thought that you thought he wanted Kevin to come over and play.
M: Huh?
NM: He didn't think there was anyway Owen was mowing the lawn, so he thought you were confused when you said he couldn't come over. I assured him that you weren't confused, and that it was Owen mowing the lawn.
That's hilarious, right there, I don't care who y'are. Apparently they won't let Noah mow yet, he's quite small for the 3rd grade...plus she said he's way to high-strung to be driving anything, least of all something with BLADES. So Noah was amazed that Owen would be out there doing it. Good stuff.
Saturday's game was a close one...we only lost by one. Owen had another great game. No one can believe it's his first year ever playing. To tell you the truth, I can't believe it either! He really looks like a natural out there, but more importantly, he loves it. Absolutely loves it.
We managed to attend the talent show, Owen's game, Kevin fixed a tractor with a friend, I shopped for perennials, we went out to dinner on Saturday night, shopped for trees on Sunday, had some deck time, planted stuff, grilled out, caught up on some laundry...overall a great weekend.
International BBQ Fest coming up this weekend. My official start to "food from a booth" season...and I think we ALL know how much that means to me. Grills so big they have to apply BBQ sauce with a mop. This is my kind of festival, y'all. Can't wait to see my girl Jen and that baby boy of hers.
Friday night found Owen on a lawn mower right after school. His friend Noah called to see if he could come over and play. I informed Noah that Owen was mowing the grass and that he would call him when he was finished. (*remember this for later) Owen called Noah, but there was no answer at the house, so Owen and I went to the Lincoln Elementary Talent Show. Ahhh, the memories. Me, dressed up like Michael Jackson, complete with sequined glove, red jacket, black floods with white socks and of course, sunglasses. I wore my hair curly. I danced on the stage to "Thriller", complete with moonwalk, knee slides and standing on my toes. It was BRILLIANT in my head. I can remember Doreen Biggs, who was performing a tap dance number, telling me what a great dancer I was. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? I had no choreography. It was me, out there, by myself, gyrating and sliding and moonwalking all over, recalling any moves I could from the infamous video. And this was in the 7th grade, people. I was BEYOND old enough to know better. Looking back, I'm sure the parents in the audience wanted to light themselves on fire. I will dig up pictures of this and post them sometime. I was a sight to see.
This talent show featured kids I know through scouts and little league...and a couple of Owen's classmates. Most of it was hilarious, as you would expect. One of Owen's friends was in a group dance number. They actually had choreography...there were 6 girls and 2 boys out there doing their thing. It was ab fab. Lots of singers, the highlight of which was a little boy on Owen's baseball team...Alec Long. Love this kid. He sang a Toby Keith number in a cowboy hat and boots selling it all the way. And his voice was actually pretty darn good, especially considering he's SEVEN! I found out later that his mother totally bribed him with money to go out there and do his thing. Classic. One boy performed feats of double-jointedness to music. There's little Brandon, a first grader, just standing there as some hip-hop song starts, chewing his finger nails and then BAM! He jumps and lands in a double splits... and then he BAM! whips is one leg up and over his head and around his neck while stretching the other leg behind him. You could hear every man in the audience yelling "ohhhhhhhh!" with every move. He contorted himself about 10 different ways and then calmly stood up and took a bow. OMG.
*So Saturday morning at the baseball field I run into Noah's mother.
Noah's mom: So I have to tell you, Noah thinks you're totally confused.
Me: Confused about what?
NM: Well, he thought that you thought he wanted Kevin to come over and play.
M: Huh?
NM: He didn't think there was anyway Owen was mowing the lawn, so he thought you were confused when you said he couldn't come over. I assured him that you weren't confused, and that it was Owen mowing the lawn.
That's hilarious, right there, I don't care who y'are. Apparently they won't let Noah mow yet, he's quite small for the 3rd grade...plus she said he's way to high-strung to be driving anything, least of all something with BLADES. So Noah was amazed that Owen would be out there doing it. Good stuff.
Saturday's game was a close one...we only lost by one. Owen had another great game. No one can believe it's his first year ever playing. To tell you the truth, I can't believe it either! He really looks like a natural out there, but more importantly, he loves it. Absolutely loves it.
We managed to attend the talent show, Owen's game, Kevin fixed a tractor with a friend, I shopped for perennials, we went out to dinner on Saturday night, shopped for trees on Sunday, had some deck time, planted stuff, grilled out, caught up on some laundry...overall a great weekend.
International BBQ Fest coming up this weekend. My official start to "food from a booth" season...and I think we ALL know how much that means to me. Grills so big they have to apply BBQ sauce with a mop. This is my kind of festival, y'all. Can't wait to see my girl Jen and that baby boy of hers.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
That ball is going, going...GONE!
Well - it wasn't like that. But I am proud to say that my little Owen, baby Owen, in his first year of little league, did get a home run. It was a line drive through the infield that bounced it's way to the middle of the outfield and he ran those bases, baby! AND it was in the bottom of the 6th (our last inning) with 2 outs. He was totally bummed because we lost the game 7-6...but I tried to remind him of all the great things he did. He really did have a great first game, 2 doubles and more than a few great plays at first base. Some of the others, not so much.
I love little league. I love watching these kids and the quirky things they all do. At this age level they use a pitching machine. Let's face it, 7 & 8 year olds are lucky if they can throw the ball in the vicinity of the person for which they are aiming, let alone hit a STRIKE ZONE. Most of these boys are coming off of t-ball...the game would consist of nothing but strike outs on swings, walks and batters getting hit and taking a base.
The play ends when the pitcher has the ball on the mound. Next to the pitching machine. That the coaches feed, because this contraption is hardly more than a spinning wheel of death sitting out there in the middle of the field. The kids aren't supposed to put their hands anywhere near it. It's a rubber tire of sorts, completely exposed and spinning at like 40 mph for fuck's sake. Seriously. I was concerned every time our pitcher bent over to pick up the ball he was going to stand up and get skid marks on his head. Not to mention that when the ball gets hit toward the pitcher...3 different kids (pitcher, short-stop and 2nd) are now all running full momentum into the general direction of this death trap. Finally Coach Kevin made the pitcher tuck his shirt in because we were all getting concerned that he was going to get sucked in.
We lost a couple of runs to an overly polite catcher. He was moving the bats off the plate or out of the box before the play was over, so no one could throw him the ball. oops.
One inning we went through two batters before we realized the 'pitcher' was still in the dugout sipping on a juice box.
One inning an outfielder ran out there without his mitt. and no one noticed.
One boy turns and looks at the crowd like we have snakes coming out of our heads when we cheer and encourage him. "C'mon Garrett!" or "Stay with it, buddy" if he misses...and he'll turn and look at all of us wide-eyed, like "who told you my name???"
The most exciting stuff happens inside the dugout. These kids are crazy! I can see Coach Kevin at 3rd base, yelling into our dugout. "BOYS! Get off the fence and start paying attention to the game!" "Caleb! Quit pulling people off the bench!" This boy is something else. He just randomly gets up and grabs someone by the leg, pulls them off the bench and jumps on them.
No crazy parents yet...but I'm sure it's coming. Kevin and I actually know most of the parents of the kids on our team through scouts...and only one of them is crazy...the stoned-out grandma.
Next game Saturday at 10.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore...
Well, I wish I had bright sun-shiny news to report, folks, but I don't. My girl lost. And we also lost the other candidate we were supporting in Beaver Twp. (he-huh-he-he, yes, I said beaver...and just to further this Beavis and Butthead moment for you, I was working the polls in Beaver yesterday. Yeah, that's right, I said it. That one goes out to Doug and the Jimmer.) Cyndi won her township, but unfortunately for us, the blue-hairs in the other townships who got themselves in a lather thinking Cyndi was going to close their schools get to decide who sits on the board for my township. Seriously, these people don't have grandchildren in the system anymore, yet they are deciding who gets to decide what happens in my son's school. I applaud them for getting out the vote...they really did unite against us down there.
I'm sad, and tired...and really depressed because now the good people that remain on the board say they will not run for re-election when their term expires because they are tired of beating their heads against a wall.
It makes me question the system, which I am going to learn more about. Why is it that the minority population gets the bigger voice by the sheer fact that 4 townships feed the one elementary school, and therefore have 4 voices on the board? Why is it that the largest twp (my twp) with twice the population of those 4 townships combined doesn't get an extra seat when we have twice the student population as well? Why did so many people believe the propaganda that Cyndi was going to close Lincoln Elementary when she fought so hard to build it for the 5 years she was an officer with the PTA? We only won our township by 115 votes out of the 705 casted. Why did a candidate get re-elected who only attends 50% of the meetings? The list is endless, you guys, seriously. You have no idea what I'm up against, what WE'RE up against down here.
I will continue to fight the good fight. We have big problems in our corporation. A couple of school board members told me I'm doing a good job when I go down there and speak about our issues, and we had a very productive meeting with the superintendent. My cause marches on.
In other news:
We have kittens. Anyone interested? They were just born in the last couple days...not sure when because they are up in the hay loft. I'll post pictures when I can.
Alex got all A's and B's on his midterm grade report. He's being honored at a banquet held by the Kiwanis Club next week at Crown Point HS. The local Kiwanis have a dinner every year for the outstanding students in 7-12 every year in the Crown Point school system who maintain solid grades throughout the year...Trinity Lutheran, while private, gets adopted into that scope. He's totally embarrassed by it, and I'm totally proud that my son who just started private school this year is one of 4 to be on the honor roll in his class. (and the ONLY boy!)
AAAAAAAAAND - a big super-duper shout out to my girl Tigger - it is her 27th birthday!!!! Please raise a Miller Lite, dirty martini or glass of sangria in her general direction.
Thanks to all of my friends who have tolerated my school board babble through the campaign. You guys are the best.
I'm sad, and tired...and really depressed because now the good people that remain on the board say they will not run for re-election when their term expires because they are tired of beating their heads against a wall.
It makes me question the system, which I am going to learn more about. Why is it that the minority population gets the bigger voice by the sheer fact that 4 townships feed the one elementary school, and therefore have 4 voices on the board? Why is it that the largest twp (my twp) with twice the population of those 4 townships combined doesn't get an extra seat when we have twice the student population as well? Why did so many people believe the propaganda that Cyndi was going to close Lincoln Elementary when she fought so hard to build it for the 5 years she was an officer with the PTA? We only won our township by 115 votes out of the 705 casted. Why did a candidate get re-elected who only attends 50% of the meetings? The list is endless, you guys, seriously. You have no idea what I'm up against, what WE'RE up against down here.
I will continue to fight the good fight. We have big problems in our corporation. A couple of school board members told me I'm doing a good job when I go down there and speak about our issues, and we had a very productive meeting with the superintendent. My cause marches on.
In other news:
We have kittens. Anyone interested? They were just born in the last couple days...not sure when because they are up in the hay loft. I'll post pictures when I can.
Alex got all A's and B's on his midterm grade report. He's being honored at a banquet held by the Kiwanis Club next week at Crown Point HS. The local Kiwanis have a dinner every year for the outstanding students in 7-12 every year in the Crown Point school system who maintain solid grades throughout the year...Trinity Lutheran, while private, gets adopted into that scope. He's totally embarrassed by it, and I'm totally proud that my son who just started private school this year is one of 4 to be on the honor roll in his class. (and the ONLY boy!)
AAAAAAAAAND - a big super-duper shout out to my girl Tigger - it is her 27th birthday!!!! Please raise a Miller Lite, dirty martini or glass of sangria in her general direction.
Thanks to all of my friends who have tolerated my school board babble through the campaign. You guys are the best.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Opinions are like assholes...
It's Election Day folks! Get out your trusy markers and fill in those scantron bubbles. Keep your fingers and toes crossed that our hard work has paid off. I'll be leaving in a bit to go work the polls (that's POLLS not POLES you sick bastards) with Alex and then we're all going to Kentland to wait for the results.
One of my co-workers (teammates? Yeah, that sounds stupid...) - anywho - he was all jacked up this morning. He's not originally from the great state of Indiana...he's originally an east coast boy. So he's all Gretchen Wilson'd about the fact that you can't buy any booze today. Anywhere. Because it's Election Day. He couldn't believe it. Now he said this to me at 7:35am...I have NO idea why or where he was trying to buy booze before 7:35am, but that's not for me to judge. I mean he was really whipped up - calling it unconstitutional and degrading that the politicians have deemed us so dumb and irresponsible that they have to lawfully cut off the sale of liquor so we don't vote toasted. Which, I think some people might actually make a BETTER decision under the influence, but what do I know? He tried to blame it on the Democrats...HA! I had to remind him that he's living in a Republican right-wing Christian state...trust me, the Dems aren't keeping anyone from drinking...have you SEEN Ted Kennedy?
On a completely different sidenote...
Parents really piss me off. At Saturday's game this mom wanted to take her son home before the game ended because he was COLD. Yes it was a nasty, dreary, shitty day. But it was that way at 6am...it was that way at 8:15 am when we took the team pictures. The game didn't start until 11:00 am...AND SHE WENT HOME IN BETWEEN. You mean to tell me that you didn't have the forethought on a nasty cold wet dreary day to maybe, I don't know, dress your kid in layers? Like the REST OF THE TEAM did? Or grab him a coat? I guess I'm hating this woman a little, too, because she's not his mom, she's his grandmother...and the last interaction I had with her was when she walked up to me at a scout function and told me she was 'too stoned for this.' So lemme get this straight. Your daughter was too incompetent to raise this boy, and now he's stuck with his stoner grandparents who let his sister run around scouting events with no shirt on and can't bring a coat to the ball field. Ugh, aggravating...poor kid. /end of rant.
Polls are open until 6pm. Have a great day!
One of my co-workers (teammates? Yeah, that sounds stupid...) - anywho - he was all jacked up this morning. He's not originally from the great state of Indiana...he's originally an east coast boy. So he's all Gretchen Wilson'd about the fact that you can't buy any booze today. Anywhere. Because it's Election Day. He couldn't believe it. Now he said this to me at 7:35am...I have NO idea why or where he was trying to buy booze before 7:35am, but that's not for me to judge. I mean he was really whipped up - calling it unconstitutional and degrading that the politicians have deemed us so dumb and irresponsible that they have to lawfully cut off the sale of liquor so we don't vote toasted. Which, I think some people might actually make a BETTER decision under the influence, but what do I know? He tried to blame it on the Democrats...HA! I had to remind him that he's living in a Republican right-wing Christian state...trust me, the Dems aren't keeping anyone from drinking...have you SEEN Ted Kennedy?
On a completely different sidenote...
Parents really piss me off. At Saturday's game this mom wanted to take her son home before the game ended because he was COLD. Yes it was a nasty, dreary, shitty day. But it was that way at 6am...it was that way at 8:15 am when we took the team pictures. The game didn't start until 11:00 am...AND SHE WENT HOME IN BETWEEN. You mean to tell me that you didn't have the forethought on a nasty cold wet dreary day to maybe, I don't know, dress your kid in layers? Like the REST OF THE TEAM did? Or grab him a coat? I guess I'm hating this woman a little, too, because she's not his mom, she's his grandmother...and the last interaction I had with her was when she walked up to me at a scout function and told me she was 'too stoned for this.' So lemme get this straight. Your daughter was too incompetent to raise this boy, and now he's stuck with his stoner grandparents who let his sister run around scouting events with no shirt on and can't bring a coat to the ball field. Ugh, aggravating...poor kid. /end of rant.
Polls are open until 6pm. Have a great day!
Monday, May 01, 2006
I had a grandmother once...two actually...
And if you're not Jimmer and you can name that movie, you get a gold star today. Not from me, of course, but you can just mentally give yourself a little gold star. Actually I think everyone should still physically get gold stars in their day. Like you leave for work on time in the morning - you come home and there's a little gold star on your bathroom mirror or somewhere. Incentive, that's what my adult life is missing! Smiley faces in red pen, scratch-n-sniff stickers telling me I'm terrific. Oh the validation!
On to more important and interesting matters...
MEGAN GOT MARRIED!
And what a party it was. Yeah, the wine store called. They said I drank all the wine at the wedding reception. Oops...and what a terrible choice THAT was. The red wine drunk is a drunk like no other. There are periods from that night that will never be recovered for me...like me telling Tiffany "I'm not drunk, I'm just exhausted" - which I was, but I was also very, very drunk. Moments like that are lost, and then there are moments that I totally remember...from the end...what's up with that? What did Chris say yesterday? The difference between and alcoholic and a drunk is that they have to go to those meetings. HA! The beauty of it all? Not hungover. Not even a little bit. Brilliant.
And now the moment we've all been waiting for. HELLO MARSHA!!! I see you out there lurking in the bushes. Everyone say hi to Marsha...she's Mom Joy's sister, and a lurker. I told her that eventually I will discuss something that causes her to de-lurk herself. Johnny is supposed to be sending me some terrible pictures he took of her that night to help me coerce her out of hiding. rebecca.crum@gmail.com is where you can send those...HA! Actually I don't mind the lurkers. I mean, it's not like I'm counting the number of hits to my site everyday...despite my geekiness, I wouldn't even know how. (Please, no one tell me, I'm obsessive enough about this without worrying about my damn 'hit count') It's fun to know that there are people I don't know about reading and laughing and reading and mentally criticizing me...HA! See, I'm funny.
I'm heard I missed quite the show at Flannery's. Not that I would remember it if I had gone. hee. Something about cartwheels...and someone still being in their tux at breakfast the next morning. Hmmmmmm...a good time was had by all. Some more than others.
The blog was quite the topic of conversation...Doug-O is intending on starting his own. When he does that I'll post a link so we can all spend even more time in the blogosphere together.
Owen had his first official game on Saturday. It wasn't a real game, as we had 3 teams rotating around...but he had a solid hit and a couple of nice plays. Next game is Wednesday at 6pm...
The worst part about drinking on Saturday night? The dehydration WRECKED my shoulder and I'm OUT of PT sessions. Going to get an MRI this week, I'll see the ortho doc next week and see what he says. If there still isn't anything definitive I'll try an acupuncturist, and if THAT doesn't work, well, then...anyone into voodoo? Because if I keep taking this many ibuprofen and muscle relaxers in a day, it will get to my liver before the alcohol. How sad is that?
Primary election day is tomorrow, kids. Don't care who you vote for, just please, get out and VOTE. You don't get to bitch if you don't vote.
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