Google has failed me. I tried and tried to find the person that stated the above, and I cannot. The closest I came was a man named John Bartlett, but he wrote a book of quotes. So is the quote his or is it a quote from someone else? I have no idea. Field trip to B&N to see who is credited with the quote.
Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit's election day! Didja vote? Didja? Didja? Are ya gonna? Are ya? Well you SHOULD. I know it's cliche, but I don't care who you vote for, but you MUST vote. Seriously. This is AMERICA. A nation so great it lets it's people have a voice, so USE it. Even if there's only one race you care about vote that race! And don't forget your picture ID if you're here in Indiana, folks! (And it's so not true, I TOTALLY care who you vote for, but I'm trying to be nice. I could make you a list if you're confused.)
As usual - drama mama over here. They MOVED my polling place. Seriously? Seriously. As I'm pulling up to the church where I've voted for the last 5 years, there are no cars, no politicians, no nuthin. Ummmm, whodawa? And my cell phone is d.e.d. so I can't call anyone to see where to go. I vaguely remember receiving something in the mail about all 3 precincts voting in the same place...but hmmmmm...that piece of paper is probably in the stacks of crap on my kitchen counter and office desk along with junk mail and unpaid medical bills. Whoops. Oh stop it...those people are like spammers, I swear....they send me so much mail it's retarded.
"We're processing your bill"
"We've submitted your bill to insurance"
"We're waiting to hear from your insurance"
"We're still waiting to hear from your insurance"
"We just miss you and we're sending a note to say hi, and we're still waiting on your insurance"
"Your insurance called to say they might be sending a payment, but we don't know how much"
"Yet another piece of paper telling you we still don't know how much you actually have to pay"
By the time I actually get the bill - I'm exhausted, don't care and forgot what the shit it was I had done!
TANGENT!
Anyway, so I go to another place - no one. C'mon, people! There are NOT that many public buildings in my teeny township...where IS everyone?! So now I go home. I call my neighbor down the street, he tells me where to go. Vote, that is...not...ahem...where to GO. Geez. Artards.
So I go, and who is standing right out front campaigning for her brother who is running for assessor? Yep, Owen's teacher. I asked her if I was still allowed to vote even if I'm a cookie thief. She said that was no problem. I sucked up to her, btw...just so you all know. I sent in some potpourri in a basket...she says she and the class love it. Yessss! (insert fist pumping here)
Aaaaaaand, I just have to mention, that I actually, really did make someone pee their pants with the cookie story just last night. That.is.awesome.
TANGENT 2!
Reel it back in now...okay, anyway, so I got to vote and Alex only got to school 45 minutes late. Oy. And I got to work late. And whatever. I voted. And you all must watch Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert tonight - or tape it - or something. It's going to be BRILLIANT, I'm sure.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Monday, November 06, 2006
Sloth breeds sloth...
Do you know what we had planned going into this weekend? NOTHING. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Nadadamnthing. THAT, my friends, is a bee-yoo-ti-ful outlook on a Friday, lemme tell ya.
Well, I didn't have plans until the young Kathy was stuck in the parking lot of Amelia's on Friday with a flat tire staring at the sign in the Impressions Cafe that we love that says "Closing November 4th." Ummmmm, what? Whodawa? How can this be? I love this place. I love the chef and the wine list and their wine tastings and half price martinis Tues-Thurs and JUST LIKE THAT they're CLOSING??? Well, I have plans NOW. I call the Kev-head immediately and arrange for us to go to dinner there Friday night. So okay, we have Friday night plans.
Kev-head informs me that when he got home on Friday the phone was ringing off the hook with boys calling to spend the night. Owen, what did you TELL people?? "Well, I didn't tell them they could come over, I told them I would ask." Well, now they're all calling to find out the verdict on the asking. Owen is more than upset to find out that he can't have friends over because we have to go to Impressions for dinner. So Kev-head makes the arrangement that he can have as many boys as he wants over on SATURDAY night - he'll even order pizza. Which, of course, means I'M ordering pizza and calling all of these parents, but whatever. Fine. If Owen is having friends over, I'M having friends over, too, dammit. So I make arrangements for the lovely Linda and her hubby to come over for game night.
Saturday during the day what did we do? Well, me - NOTHING. I tried to get motivated. I really did. I made a big breakfast. Cleaned the kitchen. We thought about going to the new library. But really, since I had nothing planned, I did nothing. I didn't even really clean my house. So Linda, I guess you've arrived. You are such a good friend to me now that I won't even clean for your visits anymore. Aren't you honored? HA! Talk about taking someone for granted. I thought about wiping that sink off in the bathroom - but never even got around to THAT. How pitiful! I did put clean towels in there, at least. Points for me.
Sunday Kev-head made cinnamon rolls for the "football team" that was staying over - hell, they were up and playing football in their SOCKS at 7am. Me, I was asleep. And I wasn't the overserved one on Saturday! Only the adult-age boys were overserved on red wine that night. Linda and I were cool. Oh yeah, while we played Blokus and Racko, they men got sloshed. 5 bottles of red wine done, finished, finito. And I think I only had a glass and a half! Rob kept worrying that we were going to run out. He clearly hasn't met me. I still had more reds to open, but no one seemed to need it!
I stumbled out at 8:30, I think and the boys were well on their way to the superbowl by that time. I fixed them a big lunch...cleaned up from the party and waited for the real football games to start. Bears then Steelers then Colts. Yeah, I was NOT leaving my house. And I managed to get nothing done on that day either. Whoops. I did fry up some fish and now my house smells like Long John Silver's...but that's about it, kids.
I guess it felt really good to have a do nothing weekend where my car didn't leave the garage. But in the same respect I could have/should have gotten SOMETHING done, right? Oh well, I guess there's always NEXT weekend.
Well, I didn't have plans until the young Kathy was stuck in the parking lot of Amelia's on Friday with a flat tire staring at the sign in the Impressions Cafe that we love that says "Closing November 4th." Ummmmm, what? Whodawa? How can this be? I love this place. I love the chef and the wine list and their wine tastings and half price martinis Tues-Thurs and JUST LIKE THAT they're CLOSING??? Well, I have plans NOW. I call the Kev-head immediately and arrange for us to go to dinner there Friday night. So okay, we have Friday night plans.
Kev-head informs me that when he got home on Friday the phone was ringing off the hook with boys calling to spend the night. Owen, what did you TELL people?? "Well, I didn't tell them they could come over, I told them I would ask." Well, now they're all calling to find out the verdict on the asking. Owen is more than upset to find out that he can't have friends over because we have to go to Impressions for dinner. So Kev-head makes the arrangement that he can have as many boys as he wants over on SATURDAY night - he'll even order pizza. Which, of course, means I'M ordering pizza and calling all of these parents, but whatever. Fine. If Owen is having friends over, I'M having friends over, too, dammit. So I make arrangements for the lovely Linda and her hubby to come over for game night.
Saturday during the day what did we do? Well, me - NOTHING. I tried to get motivated. I really did. I made a big breakfast. Cleaned the kitchen. We thought about going to the new library. But really, since I had nothing planned, I did nothing. I didn't even really clean my house. So Linda, I guess you've arrived. You are such a good friend to me now that I won't even clean for your visits anymore. Aren't you honored? HA! Talk about taking someone for granted. I thought about wiping that sink off in the bathroom - but never even got around to THAT. How pitiful! I did put clean towels in there, at least. Points for me.
Sunday Kev-head made cinnamon rolls for the "football team" that was staying over - hell, they were up and playing football in their SOCKS at 7am. Me, I was asleep. And I wasn't the overserved one on Saturday! Only the adult-age boys were overserved on red wine that night. Linda and I were cool. Oh yeah, while we played Blokus and Racko, they men got sloshed. 5 bottles of red wine done, finished, finito. And I think I only had a glass and a half! Rob kept worrying that we were going to run out. He clearly hasn't met me. I still had more reds to open, but no one seemed to need it!
I stumbled out at 8:30, I think and the boys were well on their way to the superbowl by that time. I fixed them a big lunch...cleaned up from the party and waited for the real football games to start. Bears then Steelers then Colts. Yeah, I was NOT leaving my house. And I managed to get nothing done on that day either. Whoops. I did fry up some fish and now my house smells like Long John Silver's...but that's about it, kids.
I guess it felt really good to have a do nothing weekend where my car didn't leave the garage. But in the same respect I could have/should have gotten SOMETHING done, right? Oh well, I guess there's always NEXT weekend.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Where IS everyone?
What? You don't want to be convorting with thieves? Ever since I started talking about Owen stealing cookies you guys are MIA. Eileen - still with us out there, sister? Hope you're feeling better, and that everyone in your house is feeling better.
Crazy sock night was a mad success. Yes, we did roll our jeans up so everyone could see. It's probably the best part about my bowling team that I love ... crazy is definitely on the bus. Next week? Pink week. The pinker the better. We'll all be wearing pink and singing P!nk songs and talking like we're the Pink Ladies. If I could I'd have jackets made! Quit talking about how gay I am! I can heeeeeear yoooooou. I've already decided on the theme for the week after that - pajama party. Yeah baby! Mostly because I have the most awesome kick ass pajamas from Old Navy that are uber comfy and it would be fun to come home and literally fall into bed. HA! I'm totally into this.
I have been dubbed "spirit stick" by my team. We have discussed "spirit fingers" already - it's a Bring It On thing - and I'm the spirit stick for our team. Anymore that's all they call me. "Hey spirit stick, you're up" "Spirit stick called, she wanted me to remind you that it's crazy sock night"
There was NO ONE in the bar after bowling last night. Hell everyone but us finished early. The team we were bowling against was in charge of the women's 50/50 - so that always means there's a lag in the game. We didn't finish until almost 10:30. My friend Linda was done by 9:30!! We had barely started our 3rd game. Oy. But I digress...no one in the bar, which means the girls and I had our run of the place. I learned some line dance called "the bus stop" and there's a bus stop song and everything. If you ask real nice I'll teach it to you. I wonder if they have that song on iTunes. Hang on...
HA! They totally do...I just put it in my shopping cart. Kathy, be prepared - we're so doing the bus stop next week! I wonder if Owen knows it. The Janet will be all over that, she loves her line dances. Electric slide, macarena, you name it, she's mastering it.
Have a great weekend my cool crazy bloggers. And to all you lurkers out there - Suzi...Aunt Carol...Linda...word.
Crazy sock night was a mad success. Yes, we did roll our jeans up so everyone could see. It's probably the best part about my bowling team that I love ... crazy is definitely on the bus. Next week? Pink week. The pinker the better. We'll all be wearing pink and singing P!nk songs and talking like we're the Pink Ladies. If I could I'd have jackets made! Quit talking about how gay I am! I can heeeeeear yoooooou. I've already decided on the theme for the week after that - pajama party. Yeah baby! Mostly because I have the most awesome kick ass pajamas from Old Navy that are uber comfy and it would be fun to come home and literally fall into bed. HA! I'm totally into this.
I have been dubbed "spirit stick" by my team. We have discussed "spirit fingers" already - it's a Bring It On thing - and I'm the spirit stick for our team. Anymore that's all they call me. "Hey spirit stick, you're up" "Spirit stick called, she wanted me to remind you that it's crazy sock night"
There was NO ONE in the bar after bowling last night. Hell everyone but us finished early. The team we were bowling against was in charge of the women's 50/50 - so that always means there's a lag in the game. We didn't finish until almost 10:30. My friend Linda was done by 9:30!! We had barely started our 3rd game. Oy. But I digress...no one in the bar, which means the girls and I had our run of the place. I learned some line dance called "the bus stop" and there's a bus stop song and everything. If you ask real nice I'll teach it to you. I wonder if they have that song on iTunes. Hang on...
HA! They totally do...I just put it in my shopping cart. Kathy, be prepared - we're so doing the bus stop next week! I wonder if Owen knows it. The Janet will be all over that, she loves her line dances. Electric slide, macarena, you name it, she's mastering it.
Have a great weekend my cool crazy bloggers. And to all you lurkers out there - Suzi...Aunt Carol...Linda...word.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Little known fact....
Well, maybe not so little known. I think a few of you know. I have a thing for socks. Especially holiday socks. I love them. I love them...well sure, like I would marry them. Snowflakes, sleds, pumpkins, shamrocks, hearts, I have them all...several pairs, actually. I don't really know how it started. My mom is not a holiday sock person, is she? I know we typically do slipper socks for Christmas, but I don't think she's a year round holiday sock hound. I can be distracted in the sock aisle for hours trying to decide on which pumpkin socks to get. Kathy makes fun of me for this.
But I realized that I have a sock fetish in general. A good pair of socks is better than diet coke (*gasp*) for me. Really.
Like all problems, instead of solving them, I like to share them with others. So tonight, at bowling, is crazy sock night. BRILLIANT. And we're going to roll up our jeans so everyone can see them. My sock of choice? My bright green socks with spiderwebs and little purple spiders. YEAH baby! AND they go almost all the way up to my knee. Even better. Remember my knee socks, Julie?? The white socks you used to make fun of me for. I'm laughing my ass off in my office right now remembering Julie's face every.time. I would wear those socks.
I also have a problem with lippy...but I think that might be a discussion for another day.
Today is a grunge/90's music day for me. The Toadies, Cracker, Everclear...what are you listening to?
ETA:
Another goofy thing with me: I'm a sucker for traditional anniversary gifts. EVERYONE makes fun of me for this. You can suck it. Last year it was leather. Kev-head scored an awesome leather jacket out of the deal. I have no memory of what I got. Huh. Now I'm trying to think...does anyone else remember? This year will be my 4th. I have to pick from fruit or flowers. HUH? Okay...I guess I'll send him flowers. Kevin doesn't even remember that it's our anniversary month, let alone how long we've been married. His response last night? There's a frame upstairs with the date on it. My response "I suggest you go look at it then, because I'm not telling you."
Oh boy.
But I realized that I have a sock fetish in general. A good pair of socks is better than diet coke (*gasp*) for me. Really.
Like all problems, instead of solving them, I like to share them with others. So tonight, at bowling, is crazy sock night. BRILLIANT. And we're going to roll up our jeans so everyone can see them. My sock of choice? My bright green socks with spiderwebs and little purple spiders. YEAH baby! AND they go almost all the way up to my knee. Even better. Remember my knee socks, Julie?? The white socks you used to make fun of me for. I'm laughing my ass off in my office right now remembering Julie's face every.time. I would wear those socks.
I also have a problem with lippy...but I think that might be a discussion for another day.
Today is a grunge/90's music day for me. The Toadies, Cracker, Everclear...what are you listening to?
ETA:
Another goofy thing with me: I'm a sucker for traditional anniversary gifts. EVERYONE makes fun of me for this. You can suck it. Last year it was leather. Kev-head scored an awesome leather jacket out of the deal. I have no memory of what I got. Huh. Now I'm trying to think...does anyone else remember? This year will be my 4th. I have to pick from fruit or flowers. HUH? Okay...I guess I'll send him flowers. Kevin doesn't even remember that it's our anniversary month, let alone how long we've been married. His response last night? There's a frame upstairs with the date on it. My response "I suggest you go look at it then, because I'm not telling you."
Oh boy.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Okay, so maybe you don't feel like sharing. Fine.
I'm going to continue to share.
My sister-in-law Kristin, who I can talk freely about right now because I know for a FACT she's not reading my blog. I have her computer right here...HA! SOMEONE (and I'm not pointing any fingers at my other sister-in-law who surfs the web like it's her job and plays internet poker) gave Kristin's computer a virus. And she gets these insane pop-ups all over the place. So now I have to fix it. Well, I guess I don't HAVE to, but I'm going to. Because I'm nice like that. Really. I am.
But I digress.
Kristin has 3 kids. She took said kids to the Walmart? Kmart? Local pet store chain? I don't know...took them SOMEWHERE to have their pictures took. (Like my midwest slang?) Individuals and a group shot. Well, getting 3 kids all dolled up, hair curled, not crying, not killing each other and getting them to the picture place is quite an undertaking. But she does it, gets them there...smile smile smile, pictures ordered. GOOD JOB! Until she got the pictures back. Ummmmm, yeah, the baby? He had on denim overalls and a red plaid shirt. Cute, right? Until you look at the 8X10 and the 11X13 and realize, HOLY SHIT, his shirt still has the size sticker on it! You know, the long strip that runs down the front of clothing and says 6-9 months. Yeah, THAT. On the wallets you can just see the glare of the flash off the plastic. But on the big pics you can read the size plain as day. Kristin is mortified.
We find this out, at all places, at the wake we went to on Friday. We are in the back of the funeral parlor laughing our asses off with some of the cousins. Inappropriate? Maybe.
So there is this costume party the next day for Rylee, spawn of Kristin, but truly my daughter from another mother. Kevin and I are discussing at dinner what his costume could be. I talk about him being Blake, and how should go with stickers on his shirt. We take it one step further and buy him overalls the next day. I'm walking around Sears taking the size stickers off as many shirts as I can get my hands on and I'm shoving them in my pockets. Kev-head is convinced I'm going to get us thrown in jail. But we make it out with stickers in hand and when we get to the party, they all think Kevin is a farmer. Until they look more closely, and see all of those stickers on his chest. I thought Kristin was going to fall out of her chair. "I'm Blake" he announces.
Good stuff right there. That's what family is for! To take your embarrassing moments and remind you of them daily.
Chick, chick BOOM! (MRA3=Dork)
That is all.
Have a nice day.
My sister-in-law Kristin, who I can talk freely about right now because I know for a FACT she's not reading my blog. I have her computer right here...HA! SOMEONE (and I'm not pointing any fingers at my other sister-in-law who surfs the web like it's her job and plays internet poker) gave Kristin's computer a virus. And she gets these insane pop-ups all over the place. So now I have to fix it. Well, I guess I don't HAVE to, but I'm going to. Because I'm nice like that. Really. I am.
But I digress.
Kristin has 3 kids. She took said kids to the Walmart? Kmart? Local pet store chain? I don't know...took them SOMEWHERE to have their pictures took. (Like my midwest slang?) Individuals and a group shot. Well, getting 3 kids all dolled up, hair curled, not crying, not killing each other and getting them to the picture place is quite an undertaking. But she does it, gets them there...smile smile smile, pictures ordered. GOOD JOB! Until she got the pictures back. Ummmmm, yeah, the baby? He had on denim overalls and a red plaid shirt. Cute, right? Until you look at the 8X10 and the 11X13 and realize, HOLY SHIT, his shirt still has the size sticker on it! You know, the long strip that runs down the front of clothing and says 6-9 months. Yeah, THAT. On the wallets you can just see the glare of the flash off the plastic. But on the big pics you can read the size plain as day. Kristin is mortified.
We find this out, at all places, at the wake we went to on Friday. We are in the back of the funeral parlor laughing our asses off with some of the cousins. Inappropriate? Maybe.
So there is this costume party the next day for Rylee, spawn of Kristin, but truly my daughter from another mother. Kevin and I are discussing at dinner what his costume could be. I talk about him being Blake, and how should go with stickers on his shirt. We take it one step further and buy him overalls the next day. I'm walking around Sears taking the size stickers off as many shirts as I can get my hands on and I'm shoving them in my pockets. Kev-head is convinced I'm going to get us thrown in jail. But we make it out with stickers in hand and when we get to the party, they all think Kevin is a farmer. Until they look more closely, and see all of those stickers on his chest. I thought Kristin was going to fall out of her chair. "I'm Blake" he announces.
Good stuff right there. That's what family is for! To take your embarrassing moments and remind you of them daily.
Chick, chick BOOM! (MRA3=Dork)
That is all.
Have a nice day.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Two funny Halloween stories, one for each kid...
We've all got them, either about ourselves or about our kids, or someone we know...so BRING IT!
Alex:
He was Darth Maul. Remember him? Double edged light saber (or light saver as I always used to call them) It was a standard costume...robe, weapon, and the plastic mask that only cover the front of your face with the piece of rubber band like stuff that goes around the back of your head. Two eye-holes and a little slit for the mouth. You're with me, right? So Kevin, being Kevin, as we're taking pictures, keeps telling Alex to smile. Which of course we can't see. Finally Alex has had enough "I AM smiling!!" he yells back. And can't understand why we're laughing our asses off.
Owen:
Same year. He was Barney. Adorable. Walking around Chesterton trick-or-treating, not really getting it because he's only 2 1/2. We're at one of the last houses. The lady opens the door and exclaims..."Look, it's Barney!" And Owen turns around looks behind him and says "WHERE???" He was so excited because he thought Barney was there!! He never realized she was talking about HIM. I thought Kevin was going to pee himself.
What are your best costumes? Your worst? Best you've seen? Speak, freaks!
Alex:
He was Darth Maul. Remember him? Double edged light saber (or light saver as I always used to call them) It was a standard costume...robe, weapon, and the plastic mask that only cover the front of your face with the piece of rubber band like stuff that goes around the back of your head. Two eye-holes and a little slit for the mouth. You're with me, right? So Kevin, being Kevin, as we're taking pictures, keeps telling Alex to smile. Which of course we can't see. Finally Alex has had enough "I AM smiling!!" he yells back. And can't understand why we're laughing our asses off.
Owen:
Same year. He was Barney. Adorable. Walking around Chesterton trick-or-treating, not really getting it because he's only 2 1/2. We're at one of the last houses. The lady opens the door and exclaims..."Look, it's Barney!" And Owen turns around looks behind him and says "WHERE???" He was so excited because he thought Barney was there!! He never realized she was talking about HIM. I thought Kevin was going to pee himself.
What are your best costumes? Your worst? Best you've seen? Speak, freaks!
Monday, October 30, 2006
It's almost the witch's eve...
Or whatever it is they call Halloween. I call it a pain in the ass. Costumes and pumpkin carving and freezing your ass off for candy that they really won't even eat. At least mine won't. WHAT??? Kids that don't eat their weight in candy on Halloween?? Nonsense you say!
I'm so glad you all enjoyed the cookie story. Because there's even more hilarity where that came from. From the same day. Seriously.
But to tell you that story, I, of course, have to tell you this one...
Tuesday during the day, I was determined I was going to find a bowling ball. I want my own ball, dammit! Is it so much to ask? Apparently so. But I digress. So I mention to Nick the programmer that I'm going out and he asks me if I'm going anywhere near Best Buy - yes...he asks if I'll pick him up a copy of "Nacho Libre" - apparently someone else in the office did and if you buy it now, you get this mask with it. Sure, no problem. Well this whole conversation takes place within earshot of the man in the corner office, who is now intrigued and would also like a copy. Fine. 2 copies of Nacho Libre with masks coming right up. Whatever.
I don't find a bowling ball, I find the movies, I pick up a box lunch from Heavenly Ham (LOVE!) and I'm back at the office. Brilliant. Except that I don't buy widescreen, don't think in widescreen and apparently the man ONLY thinks in widescreen versions. Whoops, my bad. I tell him that I'll exchange it, because I'm bound to be going that way again, as I'm determined to pick up a bowling ball.
So....I put the movie in my car, work until 3am (stop.singing.kathy.), drive home with my window down in the freezing cold looking like a drunk, sleep a couple of hours, get the window fixed, Owen comes home with cookies...you're all with me, right? Good. So I tell Owen to go get in the car with the cookies and I'll be right out.
I come out of my house, I'm walking through the garage, and there, in the car...is this:
Yeah, that's right...Owen has gotten in the car, seen the movie, opened it and put on the mask...THAT DOESN'T BELONG TO ME, while eating the cookies that also DON'T BELONG TO ME. Of course, I only know that the mask doesn't belong to me at this point. I am walking through the garage, looking at Owen in the car in slow motion saying "No-o-o-o-o...Owen, no-o-o-o-o" He's just smiling and playing with the buttons on the radio minding his own business.
Um, Owen, that mask isn't ours. Oh, it isn't? No...I was taking that movie in to exchange it for someone. Oh, sorry. Yeah, well, you didn't know. I guess we own it now. Cool, can we watch it tonight?
We get to Best Buy and they have the widescreen version with the mask, I go to work, give it to the man, all is well...and we hand out stolen Halloween cookies and fix phone system problems all day.
So now you understand why the cookie thing was even MORE hilarious for me when it was happening. That day was unbelievable. Seriously.
I'm so glad you all enjoyed the cookie story. Because there's even more hilarity where that came from. From the same day. Seriously.
But to tell you that story, I, of course, have to tell you this one...
Tuesday during the day, I was determined I was going to find a bowling ball. I want my own ball, dammit! Is it so much to ask? Apparently so. But I digress. So I mention to Nick the programmer that I'm going out and he asks me if I'm going anywhere near Best Buy - yes...he asks if I'll pick him up a copy of "Nacho Libre" - apparently someone else in the office did and if you buy it now, you get this mask with it. Sure, no problem. Well this whole conversation takes place within earshot of the man in the corner office, who is now intrigued and would also like a copy. Fine. 2 copies of Nacho Libre with masks coming right up. Whatever.
I don't find a bowling ball, I find the movies, I pick up a box lunch from Heavenly Ham (LOVE!) and I'm back at the office. Brilliant. Except that I don't buy widescreen, don't think in widescreen and apparently the man ONLY thinks in widescreen versions. Whoops, my bad. I tell him that I'll exchange it, because I'm bound to be going that way again, as I'm determined to pick up a bowling ball.
So....I put the movie in my car, work until 3am (stop.singing.kathy.), drive home with my window down in the freezing cold looking like a drunk, sleep a couple of hours, get the window fixed, Owen comes home with cookies...you're all with me, right? Good. So I tell Owen to go get in the car with the cookies and I'll be right out.
I come out of my house, I'm walking through the garage, and there, in the car...is this:
Yeah, that's right...Owen has gotten in the car, seen the movie, opened it and put on the mask...THAT DOESN'T BELONG TO ME, while eating the cookies that also DON'T BELONG TO ME. Of course, I only know that the mask doesn't belong to me at this point. I am walking through the garage, looking at Owen in the car in slow motion saying "No-o-o-o-o...Owen, no-o-o-o-o" He's just smiling and playing with the buttons on the radio minding his own business.Um, Owen, that mask isn't ours. Oh, it isn't? No...I was taking that movie in to exchange it for someone. Oh, sorry. Yeah, well, you didn't know. I guess we own it now. Cool, can we watch it tonight?
We get to Best Buy and they have the widescreen version with the mask, I go to work, give it to the man, all is well...and we hand out stolen Halloween cookies and fix phone system problems all day.
So now you understand why the cookie thing was even MORE hilarious for me when it was happening. That day was unbelievable. Seriously.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Tale of a cookie monster...er....thief....
So yesterday was quite an interesting day. But to tell you that story I have to tell you this one...
Once upon a time, a thirtysomething decided to upgrade the phone system at the office. This was planned for two nights, after hours. Brilliant. Last Tuesday was night number one. Things were programmed, life was good. I was out of here by 9pm. I was told that the hardware install would basically be plug and play and wouldn't take long.
Ahem. Flash forward to Tuesday night. I get the kids home, come back to work. We start the install. Things are humming, humming humming, the new system comes up. Oh yeah, PS, NONE OF THE PORTS MATCH THE EXTENSIONS? What, you say? What does this mean? And more importantly, why do I care??? Well, you care because it affects me...and what does it mean? Well, you don't really care about that so I'll skip it.
ANYWAY...because of all of this...we leave here after 3AM. 3AM people. (And katmat I KNOW you're singing that song now...I read you like a BOOK! A book I say!) I clocked out at 3:02, turned off some lights, set some alarms, walked out the door, scraped the frost off my car. I roll down my window to remove said frost and when I push the button to put it back up...nuthin. N.U.T.H.I.N. nuthin. Did I mention there was FROST on my car? That means it's COLD people...COLD. And it was now like 3:20 in the morning and I have to drive 35 minutes down I-65 at 75 mph with my window down. Good times.
I'm frozen by the time I get home. Literally. My hands would not uncurl from the death grip I had on the cold cold steering wheel all the way home. Luckily I live out of my car so I had a sweatshirt handy to wrap around my hands and the wheel for wind blockage. I did not have gloves. I get a couple of hours of sleep, find someone to fix my window. Work from home all morning troubleshooting various stuff...Owen comes home from school. Half day...parent teacher conferences.
The great cookie caper
He walks in with an assload of mail and a box of cookies. "Here you go, mom" he says. "What are these?" I ask. "Cookies from Market Day" he says. huh. Cookies from Market Day? I didn't order any cookies from Market Day. Or did I? Hell, I don't know, maybe I did...or maybe it's one of those promo things they do and I'm getting them after the fact. Whatever. Let's go to work. So Owen and I jump in the car and come up here to the office. We're eating cookies. They're really good. Shorbread with sugar and mmmmmmm...When we get here I tell Owen to see if the girls outside my door want cookies. And then he basically walks around the office handing out these yummy cookies.
We leave.
We go to Owen's parent teacher conference. Blah-blah-blah Owen's great, blah-blah blah can you help with the Halloween party we're having tomorrow? Sure. What do you need? Chips maybe. We have candy. "I had this box of individually wrapped jack-o-lantern cookies but I have searched this school high and low and I simply cannot find them"
Owen pipes in "Really? We got some of those, too."
I think I went ashen. I am looking at Mrs. Reyes and Owen and they're having this whole conversation about these cookies. I'm not sure what I looked like, but inside my head was pounding, OH MY GOD WE HAVE THE CLASS COOKIES! And we ate them. And gave them to my entire office to eat. Without even a second thought. OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG.
So we get out of the parent teacher conference and I ask Owen where in the hell those cookies came from. "The mailman" he says. HUH? Market Day has never MAILED anything. "Are you sure?" "I think sooo....yeah...well..." Okay...they came in the mail. So we DIDN'T steal the class cookies. Fine. Moving on. This is all making sense in my 2 hours worth of sleep world.
So we go home, change for Scouts, leave, comeback. Now I'm going through Owen's backpack. In it we find a big huge Scholastic book order catalog. You all know the order sheets they send home with the kids? Well this was the motherload of those. An American Girl catalog. ummmm, huh? A grad schmokken-flokken catalog...some sort of teacher's catalog. uh-oh. And Alex pipes in..."That looks like the book order thing that the teachers have, why do you have that Owen?"
And...
wait for it...
"It was on my chair with the ... cookies... oh my gosh...mom, the mailman didn't bring those cookies! That's right! They were on my CHAIR at school with all of THAT mail. So I brought it all home."
Oh yeah, that's right. We really did have the Halloween party cookies. So I now have to call the teacher and try to explain this. Before I could call her in the morning, she emailed me...
"I was told to call you or email you today
I think I might know what it is about
I searched the whole school for that mail and those cookies
Owen says he saw it on his chair so he just took it home.
Could you send them back and we will eat them on Tuesday, Oct 31st?"
Ummmmmm, yeah except we ATE them. shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Props to Owen for going straight to his teacher and telling her what happened. But he neglected the part where we ATE them. Oy.
So I reply and tell her that the cookies are, in fact, no more...but I'll be happy to replace them on Tuesday with something else!
The response?
"don't worry about it
I really got a good laugh about it!!
It is nice to know you still owe me
HA!
I thought you were acting a bit uncomfortable last night
Now I know why
It was an honest mistake
I don't know why Owen didn't ask why those were on his chair
THe sub would have known
we really don't need any treats on Tuesday
Eat and enjoy the rest of the cookies
You can help with our next party
have a great day and weekend"
Well, at least she's got a good sense of humor. I owed her before for cancelling out on the class field trip because of work. I had paid my debt. Now I'm back in up to my neck. I want to light myself on fire. Cannot believe this is happening to me. Only me, ya know? Seriously.
Once upon a time, a thirtysomething decided to upgrade the phone system at the office. This was planned for two nights, after hours. Brilliant. Last Tuesday was night number one. Things were programmed, life was good. I was out of here by 9pm. I was told that the hardware install would basically be plug and play and wouldn't take long.
Ahem. Flash forward to Tuesday night. I get the kids home, come back to work. We start the install. Things are humming, humming humming, the new system comes up. Oh yeah, PS, NONE OF THE PORTS MATCH THE EXTENSIONS? What, you say? What does this mean? And more importantly, why do I care??? Well, you care because it affects me...and what does it mean? Well, you don't really care about that so I'll skip it.
ANYWAY...because of all of this...we leave here after 3AM. 3AM people. (And katmat I KNOW you're singing that song now...I read you like a BOOK! A book I say!) I clocked out at 3:02, turned off some lights, set some alarms, walked out the door, scraped the frost off my car. I roll down my window to remove said frost and when I push the button to put it back up...nuthin. N.U.T.H.I.N. nuthin. Did I mention there was FROST on my car? That means it's COLD people...COLD. And it was now like 3:20 in the morning and I have to drive 35 minutes down I-65 at 75 mph with my window down. Good times.
I'm frozen by the time I get home. Literally. My hands would not uncurl from the death grip I had on the cold cold steering wheel all the way home. Luckily I live out of my car so I had a sweatshirt handy to wrap around my hands and the wheel for wind blockage. I did not have gloves. I get a couple of hours of sleep, find someone to fix my window. Work from home all morning troubleshooting various stuff...Owen comes home from school. Half day...parent teacher conferences.
The great cookie caper
He walks in with an assload of mail and a box of cookies. "Here you go, mom" he says. "What are these?" I ask. "Cookies from Market Day" he says. huh. Cookies from Market Day? I didn't order any cookies from Market Day. Or did I? Hell, I don't know, maybe I did...or maybe it's one of those promo things they do and I'm getting them after the fact. Whatever. Let's go to work. So Owen and I jump in the car and come up here to the office. We're eating cookies. They're really good. Shorbread with sugar and mmmmmmm...When we get here I tell Owen to see if the girls outside my door want cookies. And then he basically walks around the office handing out these yummy cookies.
We leave.
We go to Owen's parent teacher conference. Blah-blah-blah Owen's great, blah-blah blah can you help with the Halloween party we're having tomorrow? Sure. What do you need? Chips maybe. We have candy. "I had this box of individually wrapped jack-o-lantern cookies but I have searched this school high and low and I simply cannot find them"
Owen pipes in "Really? We got some of those, too."
I think I went ashen. I am looking at Mrs. Reyes and Owen and they're having this whole conversation about these cookies. I'm not sure what I looked like, but inside my head was pounding, OH MY GOD WE HAVE THE CLASS COOKIES! And we ate them. And gave them to my entire office to eat. Without even a second thought. OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG.
So we get out of the parent teacher conference and I ask Owen where in the hell those cookies came from. "The mailman" he says. HUH? Market Day has never MAILED anything. "Are you sure?" "I think sooo....yeah...well..." Okay...they came in the mail. So we DIDN'T steal the class cookies. Fine. Moving on. This is all making sense in my 2 hours worth of sleep world.
So we go home, change for Scouts, leave, comeback. Now I'm going through Owen's backpack. In it we find a big huge Scholastic book order catalog. You all know the order sheets they send home with the kids? Well this was the motherload of those. An American Girl catalog. ummmm, huh? A grad schmokken-flokken catalog...some sort of teacher's catalog. uh-oh. And Alex pipes in..."That looks like the book order thing that the teachers have, why do you have that Owen?"
And...
wait for it...
"It was on my chair with the ... cookies... oh my gosh...mom, the mailman didn't bring those cookies! That's right! They were on my CHAIR at school with all of THAT mail. So I brought it all home."
Oh yeah, that's right. We really did have the Halloween party cookies. So I now have to call the teacher and try to explain this. Before I could call her in the morning, she emailed me...
"I was told to call you or email you today
I think I might know what it is about
I searched the whole school for that mail and those cookies
Owen says he saw it on his chair so he just took it home.
Could you send them back and we will eat them on Tuesday, Oct 31st?"
Ummmmmm, yeah except we ATE them. shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Props to Owen for going straight to his teacher and telling her what happened. But he neglected the part where we ATE them. Oy.
So I reply and tell her that the cookies are, in fact, no more...but I'll be happy to replace them on Tuesday with something else!
The response?
"don't worry about it
I really got a good laugh about it!!
It is nice to know you still owe me
HA!
I thought you were acting a bit uncomfortable last night
Now I know why
It was an honest mistake
I don't know why Owen didn't ask why those were on his chair
THe sub would have known
we really don't need any treats on Tuesday
Eat and enjoy the rest of the cookies
You can help with our next party
have a great day and weekend"
Well, at least she's got a good sense of humor. I owed her before for cancelling out on the class field trip because of work. I had paid my debt. Now I'm back in up to my neck. I want to light myself on fire. Cannot believe this is happening to me. Only me, ya know? Seriously.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Cold hands, warm heart?
Seriously. Freezing. In my office. FREEZING people. I'm wearing pants and socks and shoes and a sweater and right now I can't feel my toes. My point with mentioning my wardrobe isn't to point out that yes, I'm a big girl and can dress myself. It's to point out that I'm dressed for the weather. AND I'M INDOORS. It's not like I have some roadworker position (not that there's anything wrong with that - I just don't work outside. ever. EVER.) I shouldn't have to bundle into my carharts to come into my office and work in IT. It's ridiculous. I think there was frost on my plant this morning. Poor little thing.
Scott and I used to make jokes about cutting people open and crawling into them to keep warm. Too grotesque for you? Try being Kathy. She worked between us, and Scott and I would play rock, paper, scissors to see who got first dibs. Think Rob Roy.
The cold can numb your brain, in addition to every digit on your mouse hand and your toes. I have no feet right now. Cannot feel them. I just kicked on my space heater, which will, in turn, make my office an oven and my hair will frizz. The problem is, you would think, that if my office is cold in the winter months (yes, I know, it's not even winter yet) - it would be hot in the summer months.
Oh contraire little foolish ones. In the summer they have the AC kickin' in this icebox to an extent that I dress for work the same way all year round. Pants and sweaters. I try to wear skirts, because I LOVE skirts (Julie makes fun of me for this) - but I always end up growing back the very hair I shaved off my legs that morning in the shower. WHAT? It's your body's natural response to cold. You grow hair. It's true. Look it up. Okay. Don't look it up, see if I care. Just doing my part to try and educate you.
In defense of the office, I am cold all of the damn time. Even at home. I've had my thyroid checked every year for the last 5 or 6, and according them it's normal. Someone suggested I go see an endocronologist, but I can't do anything like that until after Jan.1 - we're changing insurance and I went with the high deductible plan, and I don't want everything to come out of my pocket just before Christmas...plus I want it to apply to next year's $1100 deductible.
Anyway...I can't concentrate due to the cold, so I thought I'd bitch about it. I miss Eileen. She had surgery last week - so let's think good thought for our Midwest girl in the Pacific northwest.
Scott and I used to make jokes about cutting people open and crawling into them to keep warm. Too grotesque for you? Try being Kathy. She worked between us, and Scott and I would play rock, paper, scissors to see who got first dibs. Think Rob Roy.
The cold can numb your brain, in addition to every digit on your mouse hand and your toes. I have no feet right now. Cannot feel them. I just kicked on my space heater, which will, in turn, make my office an oven and my hair will frizz. The problem is, you would think, that if my office is cold in the winter months (yes, I know, it's not even winter yet) - it would be hot in the summer months.
Oh contraire little foolish ones. In the summer they have the AC kickin' in this icebox to an extent that I dress for work the same way all year round. Pants and sweaters. I try to wear skirts, because I LOVE skirts (Julie makes fun of me for this) - but I always end up growing back the very hair I shaved off my legs that morning in the shower. WHAT? It's your body's natural response to cold. You grow hair. It's true. Look it up. Okay. Don't look it up, see if I care. Just doing my part to try and educate you.
In defense of the office, I am cold all of the damn time. Even at home. I've had my thyroid checked every year for the last 5 or 6, and according them it's normal. Someone suggested I go see an endocronologist, but I can't do anything like that until after Jan.1 - we're changing insurance and I went with the high deductible plan, and I don't want everything to come out of my pocket just before Christmas...plus I want it to apply to next year's $1100 deductible.
Anyway...I can't concentrate due to the cold, so I thought I'd bitch about it. I miss Eileen. She had surgery last week - so let's think good thought for our Midwest girl in the Pacific northwest.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
It's an unhealthy relationship, but at least it's a relationship...
Oh Thai food, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
One little pot sticker, 2 little pad thai noodles, 3 little 5 star chickens....
What? You thought I was going to start dishing on the Kev-head? Yaw outta yaw damn mind. I'm talking about FOOD people. My lifesource. Well, your lifesource, too, I guess...technically, but not the same way as me...and, well, as Kathy. Food is an event. It's something to look forward to on your way to work. A good meal plan can make your WHOLE day better. We've been planning on having thai food all week...and now it's here and the anticipation is going to kill me. It's ordered. I'm leaving to pick it up in just a few minutes. Half the office is involved. I can say that now that we're down to like 5 employees. Okay, maybe it's not that bad, but you get my drift.
I was listening to Dean Martin...yes on purpose...this morning and Kathy says "I need you in your kitchen making a pot of red sauce with this playing" to which I respond..."I think I have." And then we segued into this whole conversation about how she's been craving my red sauce and I know I have - so it's settled. I'm making sauce and meatballs this weekend so I can bring some to Kathy next week. Now we're really excited because lunch on MONDAY is going to be so great. MONDAY, people...with me here? I'm already excited for Monday's lunch, nevermind the fact that I'll probably be eating it for Sunday dinner, which is exciting enough.
Hell, I was excited about the green bean casserole I made last night. Totally propelled my car home and made me excited to cook. And then I think I ate the whole damn thing by myself. Well, not really, but I think I could have. I had to make myself stop.
I'm not a stress eater, that's for sure. Kathy hates it when I'm in a bad mood because I never know what I want for lunch and nothing sounds good and I don't really eat what we do end up getting. She gets pouty and whiny and tries to cheer me up so I'll be excited about food. That's her cross to bear - she counts on me to match her food excitedness. Usually I'm right there, but we all know it's been crappy around here lately, so it's been hard to get excited about food.
Yesterday Tigger and I had lunch at the Abuelo's...that totally hit the spot. Like a good meal can be a substitute for good sex....that's how attached I am to food. You get done and you're like DAMN, I SO needed THAT, and then you want to roll over and go to sleep with a smile on your face. It's brilliant. So I guess, when I say it like that, I sort of have an unhealthy relationship with food AND with Kathy...and probably with Tigger...but that's a subject for another day. Right now I'm going to pick up the thai food.
One little pot sticker, 2 little pad thai noodles, 3 little 5 star chickens....
What? You thought I was going to start dishing on the Kev-head? Yaw outta yaw damn mind. I'm talking about FOOD people. My lifesource. Well, your lifesource, too, I guess...technically, but not the same way as me...and, well, as Kathy. Food is an event. It's something to look forward to on your way to work. A good meal plan can make your WHOLE day better. We've been planning on having thai food all week...and now it's here and the anticipation is going to kill me. It's ordered. I'm leaving to pick it up in just a few minutes. Half the office is involved. I can say that now that we're down to like 5 employees. Okay, maybe it's not that bad, but you get my drift.
I was listening to Dean Martin...yes on purpose...this morning and Kathy says "I need you in your kitchen making a pot of red sauce with this playing" to which I respond..."I think I have." And then we segued into this whole conversation about how she's been craving my red sauce and I know I have - so it's settled. I'm making sauce and meatballs this weekend so I can bring some to Kathy next week. Now we're really excited because lunch on MONDAY is going to be so great. MONDAY, people...with me here? I'm already excited for Monday's lunch, nevermind the fact that I'll probably be eating it for Sunday dinner, which is exciting enough.
Hell, I was excited about the green bean casserole I made last night. Totally propelled my car home and made me excited to cook. And then I think I ate the whole damn thing by myself. Well, not really, but I think I could have. I had to make myself stop.
I'm not a stress eater, that's for sure. Kathy hates it when I'm in a bad mood because I never know what I want for lunch and nothing sounds good and I don't really eat what we do end up getting. She gets pouty and whiny and tries to cheer me up so I'll be excited about food. That's her cross to bear - she counts on me to match her food excitedness. Usually I'm right there, but we all know it's been crappy around here lately, so it's been hard to get excited about food.
Yesterday Tigger and I had lunch at the Abuelo's...that totally hit the spot. Like a good meal can be a substitute for good sex....that's how attached I am to food. You get done and you're like DAMN, I SO needed THAT, and then you want to roll over and go to sleep with a smile on your face. It's brilliant. So I guess, when I say it like that, I sort of have an unhealthy relationship with food AND with Kathy...and probably with Tigger...but that's a subject for another day. Right now I'm going to pick up the thai food.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Time time time, see what's become of me...
While I looked around
For my possibilities
I was so hard to please...
I'm starting my own little "annoyances.org" right here, right now. Seriously. Clocks of the world...UNITE.
I wake up. My alarm clock is set to a certain time, usually a few minutes faster that the "actual" time. This is a game I like to call "fool yourself into being on time." Right. Because I don't knooooooow that the time is actually faster, so I won't hit snooze? I'll jump out of bed screaming "Oh my gosh, it's 6 o'clock! I should be in the shower right now!!!" When I really do know it's only 5:54 and I have 6 more minutes, which OF COURSE means I have the 8 more minutes required by my snooze button. Seriously.
But I digress.
My alarm clock says one time. I turn on the news. My satellite says another time. The clock ticker on the news program says ANOTHER time. I walk into the kitchen and of course the microwave and the stove, even though I set them the same, are not in sync...and even though I set BOTH OF THEM by the satellite time (because in my head that's syncing up to some atomic clock somewhere) - they do not match the satellite time. We've had so many power outages I don't even bother with the radio time and the coffee maker time. Those I just ignore. Besides, do I really need 4 clocks in my kitchen with different times?
By the time I finish getting ready and get into my car, 5 minutes have passed. Even on my best day, with my plantar fasciitis in full blown agony, no way it takes me five minutes to get from my kitchen to my car. Have you people seen me walk? It might be awkward, but it's usually quick. My car time drifts all over holy hell...that thing is syncing to the beat of it's own drummer. I've sync'd it with my Nextel (piece of shit that it is, but that's another annoyance for another day) - I've sync'd my car with that phone 52 ways from Sunday, but it just keeps drifting.
So I don't really know what time it is, and I have to have Alex to the school before 7:25am. Now there have been times when I've left my house with my kitchen clock saying 6:52, my car clock saying 6:56 and my Nextel saying 6:57 - I get to the school with my car clock saying 7:22 - and the door is closed which means by THEIR time - it's 7:25 and Alex is LATE. WHAT THE???
Who are they syncing THEIR time to? God? How do I get in on that action???
By the time I get to work it's 7:34 in my car, but 7:40 when I clock in. Whodawa? Because when I sit down my phone system says it's 7:36 and my computer says it's 7:37. Can you see how this all starts to get very...very...frustrating??? So I got here today and resynced my timeclock with my computers that actually do point to an atomic clock and I'm about to do the same with the phone system. My Nextel seems to be on that same frequency, so I'll change my car time when I go to lunch and sync my kitchen clocks to my Nextel. Satellite, morning news and school be damned. I know what time it is for fuck's sake so they can suck it.
I'm just tired of all the clocks in the world rebelling. Because by this time next week, my car will be minutes off, my phones here at the office will be minutes off, the timclock will be in it's own world somewhere with my kitchen clocks and I still.won't.get.Alex.to.school.on.time.
For my possibilities
I was so hard to please...
I'm starting my own little "annoyances.org" right here, right now. Seriously. Clocks of the world...UNITE.
I wake up. My alarm clock is set to a certain time, usually a few minutes faster that the "actual" time. This is a game I like to call "fool yourself into being on time." Right. Because I don't knooooooow that the time is actually faster, so I won't hit snooze? I'll jump out of bed screaming "Oh my gosh, it's 6 o'clock! I should be in the shower right now!!!" When I really do know it's only 5:54 and I have 6 more minutes, which OF COURSE means I have the 8 more minutes required by my snooze button. Seriously.
But I digress.
My alarm clock says one time. I turn on the news. My satellite says another time. The clock ticker on the news program says ANOTHER time. I walk into the kitchen and of course the microwave and the stove, even though I set them the same, are not in sync...and even though I set BOTH OF THEM by the satellite time (because in my head that's syncing up to some atomic clock somewhere) - they do not match the satellite time. We've had so many power outages I don't even bother with the radio time and the coffee maker time. Those I just ignore. Besides, do I really need 4 clocks in my kitchen with different times?
By the time I finish getting ready and get into my car, 5 minutes have passed. Even on my best day, with my plantar fasciitis in full blown agony, no way it takes me five minutes to get from my kitchen to my car. Have you people seen me walk? It might be awkward, but it's usually quick. My car time drifts all over holy hell...that thing is syncing to the beat of it's own drummer. I've sync'd it with my Nextel (piece of shit that it is, but that's another annoyance for another day) - I've sync'd my car with that phone 52 ways from Sunday, but it just keeps drifting.
So I don't really know what time it is, and I have to have Alex to the school before 7:25am. Now there have been times when I've left my house with my kitchen clock saying 6:52, my car clock saying 6:56 and my Nextel saying 6:57 - I get to the school with my car clock saying 7:22 - and the door is closed which means by THEIR time - it's 7:25 and Alex is LATE. WHAT THE???
Who are they syncing THEIR time to? God? How do I get in on that action???
By the time I get to work it's 7:34 in my car, but 7:40 when I clock in. Whodawa? Because when I sit down my phone system says it's 7:36 and my computer says it's 7:37. Can you see how this all starts to get very...very...frustrating??? So I got here today and resynced my timeclock with my computers that actually do point to an atomic clock and I'm about to do the same with the phone system. My Nextel seems to be on that same frequency, so I'll change my car time when I go to lunch and sync my kitchen clocks to my Nextel. Satellite, morning news and school be damned. I know what time it is for fuck's sake so they can suck it.
I'm just tired of all the clocks in the world rebelling. Because by this time next week, my car will be minutes off, my phones here at the office will be minutes off, the timclock will be in it's own world somewhere with my kitchen clocks and I still.won't.get.Alex.to.school.on.time.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Ponytails - bringin' em on back now....
Sometimes, I'm just not right. I openly admit this. I hope you're okay with that. So at cub scout camp this past summer - I decided to change things up a bit. I have no idea why - or maybe there was a reason and I just don't remember it. At any rate, I pulled up the locks into two ponytails...a throwback to my youth if you will. I mean, if they can try and cram the skinny pants and leggings and skirts over leggings back down my throat, why can't I wear ponytails? So after 4 days of camp I came to love my ponies. The kids thought it was a hoot. I came home and Kevin said it made me look younger - which is NEVER a bad thing, so occasionally I'll throw up the ponies again.
I hadn't done this in awhile. And lately, I just haven't been feeling very fun - which is clearly the preferred attitude of the pony-wearing girl. Non-fun girls wouldn't be caught DEAD in ponies. I was bowling not-so-hot last night, still beating my average, but looking like shit doing it...open frames everywhere....and it dawned on me...I needed ponies! YES! Up went the hair and down went the pins. BRILLIANT! Another girl on my team was tired of her shit game, too - up went the hair, down went the pins! A trend! A miracle! My karma was coming around! Next thing you know - all 5 of us on the team were up in ponies...ab fab, babies. It was a statement to say the least.
So this got us talking about "theme nights" for our team. One of our girls is preggers - and she requested sweat-suit night. Ummmm, no. If there's one thing I should never ... ever... EVAH be seen in public wearing - it's a sweat suit. But I understand her need for comfort - alas - a compromise. J-Lo velour track suit night. We may even all go shopping together so we can buy the same one in different colors. Do you think they make 5 different colors of the same velour track suit at somewhere like tar-jay? Do you think I'll have to claw my teammates eyes out to get the black one? You know sister girl over here is not wearing pink. no. stop it. the laughing. picturing me in a giant pink velour track suit. Oh yeah - that's a look right there.
We're also contemplating an 80's night. I'm suddenly feeling the need to cut the collar out of an oversized sweatshirt....and I need legwarmers. Are they selling those again?
What other REALISTIC themes could we do? No, Jimmer - we will never have S&M night or anything that involves leather. Just so we're clear.
I hadn't done this in awhile. And lately, I just haven't been feeling very fun - which is clearly the preferred attitude of the pony-wearing girl. Non-fun girls wouldn't be caught DEAD in ponies. I was bowling not-so-hot last night, still beating my average, but looking like shit doing it...open frames everywhere....and it dawned on me...I needed ponies! YES! Up went the hair and down went the pins. BRILLIANT! Another girl on my team was tired of her shit game, too - up went the hair, down went the pins! A trend! A miracle! My karma was coming around! Next thing you know - all 5 of us on the team were up in ponies...ab fab, babies. It was a statement to say the least.
So this got us talking about "theme nights" for our team. One of our girls is preggers - and she requested sweat-suit night. Ummmm, no. If there's one thing I should never ... ever... EVAH be seen in public wearing - it's a sweat suit. But I understand her need for comfort - alas - a compromise. J-Lo velour track suit night. We may even all go shopping together so we can buy the same one in different colors. Do you think they make 5 different colors of the same velour track suit at somewhere like tar-jay? Do you think I'll have to claw my teammates eyes out to get the black one? You know sister girl over here is not wearing pink. no. stop it. the laughing. picturing me in a giant pink velour track suit. Oh yeah - that's a look right there.
We're also contemplating an 80's night. I'm suddenly feeling the need to cut the collar out of an oversized sweatshirt....and I need legwarmers. Are they selling those again?
What other REALISTIC themes could we do? No, Jimmer - we will never have S&M night or anything that involves leather. Just so we're clear.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
No, I didn't win the ball...
Yeah, um the STEELERS were playing Sunday night when I lost the bid. I was checking and checking and then it was almost halftime and the Steelers were on a drive and I was too busy waving my terrible towel to remember about the end of the auction. I missed it by $1 and 3 seconds. VERY depressing. I almost cried.
And then the Steelers LOST and Ben looked like SHIT and I almost really cried. WTF is going on over there????
Anyway, I know you all don't share my passion for the NFL and especially the Steelers, so I'll shut up now. Thank you for humoring me.
The fact still remains that I have to find a bowling ball. And now everything I see is going to be compared to "the one that got away." I refuse to buy some sparkly girly thing. I just can't do it.
I would also like to speak about the latest nuisance in my life. A little something called plantar fasciitis aka severe heel pain after rest...like when you wake up in the morning and put your feet on the floor - ummmm, yeah...you can't walk. I can't bend my left foot. It usually goes away after a hot shower and some time, but today, today it's still around. Most painful thing ever. What does this mean? I don't know. I don't want to go to the doctor. My online google degree says anti-inflammatories (check), stretching (ummm, guess I can do that) and orthotics. Great. It also says that it occurs most frequently in people OVER 40. OVER 40. Awesome. Glad to know my body is breaking down just as badly as I think it is. My shoulder pain is still coming and going (coming more lately than going) but I haven't had time to go to PT. I've been leaving work early for soccer games and camping trips...oy. I hope to pick up again next week. Next week is a good week. Everything ends. Brilliant.
So anyway - I hope I don't have anything like a heel spur...but who knows. Let's look on the bright side. I might get to go shoe shopping.
And then the Steelers LOST and Ben looked like SHIT and I almost really cried. WTF is going on over there????
Anyway, I know you all don't share my passion for the NFL and especially the Steelers, so I'll shut up now. Thank you for humoring me.
The fact still remains that I have to find a bowling ball. And now everything I see is going to be compared to "the one that got away." I refuse to buy some sparkly girly thing. I just can't do it.
I would also like to speak about the latest nuisance in my life. A little something called plantar fasciitis aka severe heel pain after rest...like when you wake up in the morning and put your feet on the floor - ummmm, yeah...you can't walk. I can't bend my left foot. It usually goes away after a hot shower and some time, but today, today it's still around. Most painful thing ever. What does this mean? I don't know. I don't want to go to the doctor. My online google degree says anti-inflammatories (check), stretching (ummm, guess I can do that) and orthotics. Great. It also says that it occurs most frequently in people OVER 40. OVER 40. Awesome. Glad to know my body is breaking down just as badly as I think it is. My shoulder pain is still coming and going (coming more lately than going) but I haven't had time to go to PT. I've been leaving work early for soccer games and camping trips...oy. I hope to pick up again next week. Next week is a good week. Everything ends. Brilliant.
So anyway - I hope I don't have anything like a heel spur...but who knows. Let's look on the bright side. I might get to go shoe shopping.
Friday, October 06, 2006
OMG - look what I found
So, I've decided that it's time to get my own bowling ball. Not because I'm good - I'm not - last night 122, 111, 125 - poo. The balls looked good going down but in the end...nuthin. The reasoning is simple - and I'm going to be very candid here, I have boy hands-sausage fingers. Some girls have cute little dainty hands with slender fingers. Me, not so much. One girl on my team offered to let me use her ball one night. Ummmmm, yeah...miss pencil fingers? I can't even get my pinky in that hole up to the 1st knuckle...let's not even talk about my thumb that swells through the night as I bowl. I think I have the strangest span, too. My fingers are fat but my span is small. I'm lucky if I can palm an orange. To find a house ball that doesn't weigh a zillion pounds with big finger holes and a small span? Good friggin' luck.
I think I'm going shopping this weekend. Goody. Originally I was thinking very girl-like - that I wanted my ball to match my kick-ass retro shoes. But then I found this...
Isn't she a beauty?? I love it. And I could use one of my terrible towels to wipe her off when I bowl. It's perfect. It's better than perfect. It's the perfectest. It was $96.95 on some website, but I found it on ebay and put in a bid. If I win I'll get it for half that even with the shipping. I LOVE ebay.
I think the only way I'm not going to get this ball is if I find a Diet Coke ball. Google can't seem to find me one. They have Coke balls, but no DC. Bummer. Maybe a dirty martini ball? HA! A ball that looks like an olive? Even better. No way I'm getting some sparkling girly thing. Just ain't happening.
But I still secretly wish I could get one to match my shoes.
I think I'm going shopping this weekend. Goody. Originally I was thinking very girl-like - that I wanted my ball to match my kick-ass retro shoes. But then I found this...
Isn't she a beauty?? I love it. And I could use one of my terrible towels to wipe her off when I bowl. It's perfect. It's better than perfect. It's the perfectest. It was $96.95 on some website, but I found it on ebay and put in a bid. If I win I'll get it for half that even with the shipping. I LOVE ebay.I think the only way I'm not going to get this ball is if I find a Diet Coke ball. Google can't seem to find me one. They have Coke balls, but no DC. Bummer. Maybe a dirty martini ball? HA! A ball that looks like an olive? Even better. No way I'm getting some sparkling girly thing. Just ain't happening.
But I still secretly wish I could get one to match my shoes.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Oh yes it's bowling night....
I've come to LOVE my bowling night. Love it like I would marry it. I've had a crappy few weeks at work, but every Thursday I get to put on my dancing shoes, toss back a couple of beers and chase those little white pins. Actually, it's not much of a chase. They just stand there, looking all innocent and occasionally, I knock them down. Not all at once, mind you, because I enjoy the torture of them not knowing who's going next. It's part of the game.
Actually it just means I'm a sucky bowler. But the drama sounds more fun. I've been raising my average each and every time I go. That's fun! And right now I'm the leading bowler on my team. That's bad! Because if I'm the best we've got, that's not saying much! But more importantly, we have fun...and I walk in and say "I've had a shit week, give me a beer and an attitude adjustment!" and you know what? They do. I highly recommend bowling night.
It's an American institution, like apple pie or bald eagles. Okay, maybe I exaggerate.
Actually it just means I'm a sucky bowler. But the drama sounds more fun. I've been raising my average each and every time I go. That's fun! And right now I'm the leading bowler on my team. That's bad! Because if I'm the best we've got, that's not saying much! But more importantly, we have fun...and I walk in and say "I've had a shit week, give me a beer and an attitude adjustment!" and you know what? They do. I highly recommend bowling night.
It's an American institution, like apple pie or bald eagles. Okay, maybe I exaggerate.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Gunter glieben glauchen globen
Alright
I got somethin to say
Yeah it's better to burn out
Than to fade away....
Ah...Def Leppard calling out to me in my moment of need. Burning out, people. Burning.out. I told my girlfriend Michelle that I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's coming. Football is almost over. Soccer ends soon after that. Do you see the light? (read like James Brown in the Blues Brothers!) My house is a disaster. My car is a mess. My calendar looks like a mack truck hit it. But there is a light. And do you know what words of wisdom sweet Michelle gave me? That the light is usually just the light from another tunnel. And you know what? She's right. I want to throw up.
Julie told me I'm too busy. What's new? Julie told me to make a list of everything we're involved in, that it would be a good exercise for me. I'm not sure what that meant.
So here goes...
Alex: Soccer September/October; music lessons all year round 1 night per week.
Owen: Football August, September, October; Baseball May, June; Scouts all year round
Me: Bowling every Thursday - 33 weeks; Church board, 9 meetings per year; school board meetings 1st & 3rd Monday when I can attend; Scouts - 1 pack meeting per month, 1 roundtable meeting per month (sort of);
Family: church on Sunday when we can, usually every other Sunday when Alex is in town; family obligations to birthday parties/holidays
Kevin: Football coach, baseball coach, cubmaster; random obligations to golf outings/fishing trips for work
Is that all of it? Is there stuff I'm forgetting?
The problem really isn't that we're involved. The problem is that I live in Lake Village, I work in Merrillville, I have one child in school in Crown Point with music lessons in Demotte, I have one son in school in Roselawn with football in Morocco; my board meetings are in Morocco and Rensselaer, my rountable meetings are in Wolcott and most scouting events are in Lafayette; my husband works in Highland and sometimes Burr Ridge, Illinois. I have one car, two hands and only so many hours in a day. The problem isn't how involved I am. The problem, dear friends, is that I live in the void of the universe. Just to go to the doctor, dentist, eye doctor...normal things...even if my kids weren't involved in a single fucking thing sucks the life out of me in driving.
Move, you say? Thought of that. Many times. But really, where am I going to work that's convenient and make money? Julie's going through hell right now just trying to get Hayden picked up from daycare and keep both of them working and Hayden has ZERO extracurricular activities.
Anyway, I'm burning out. But what I realize, too is that I've never been this busy with my kids AND this stressed out at work. Work is usually pretty consistent. And when it's bad, there's someone else to share the stress with, brainstorm with, get through things with. I lost that person. It's not that I'm not smart, or don't know my job, or can't do it. I am. I know. I can. But after 5 years of being on a team. 5 years of having that other person, even when they look at you and say "I don't know what to tell you ma'am." And then the lightbulb goes off and you figure out how to fix it. I didn't realize how much I needed that until these last 30 days.
30 days in the hole.
Humble friggin' pie.
Am I burned out of my job? Or do I just need to wait 30 days and re-evaluate? I have dreams of cooking or teaching or something, anything other than this. But is this really so bad? Or am I just in the hole? What are your dreams? What do you want to do when you grow up?
I got somethin to say
Yeah it's better to burn out
Than to fade away....
Ah...Def Leppard calling out to me in my moment of need. Burning out, people. Burning.out. I told my girlfriend Michelle that I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's coming. Football is almost over. Soccer ends soon after that. Do you see the light? (read like James Brown in the Blues Brothers!) My house is a disaster. My car is a mess. My calendar looks like a mack truck hit it. But there is a light. And do you know what words of wisdom sweet Michelle gave me? That the light is usually just the light from another tunnel. And you know what? She's right. I want to throw up.
Julie told me I'm too busy. What's new? Julie told me to make a list of everything we're involved in, that it would be a good exercise for me. I'm not sure what that meant.
So here goes...
Alex: Soccer September/October; music lessons all year round 1 night per week.
Owen: Football August, September, October; Baseball May, June; Scouts all year round
Me: Bowling every Thursday - 33 weeks; Church board, 9 meetings per year; school board meetings 1st & 3rd Monday when I can attend; Scouts - 1 pack meeting per month, 1 roundtable meeting per month (sort of);
Family: church on Sunday when we can, usually every other Sunday when Alex is in town; family obligations to birthday parties/holidays
Kevin: Football coach, baseball coach, cubmaster; random obligations to golf outings/fishing trips for work
Is that all of it? Is there stuff I'm forgetting?
The problem really isn't that we're involved. The problem is that I live in Lake Village, I work in Merrillville, I have one child in school in Crown Point with music lessons in Demotte, I have one son in school in Roselawn with football in Morocco; my board meetings are in Morocco and Rensselaer, my rountable meetings are in Wolcott and most scouting events are in Lafayette; my husband works in Highland and sometimes Burr Ridge, Illinois. I have one car, two hands and only so many hours in a day. The problem isn't how involved I am. The problem, dear friends, is that I live in the void of the universe. Just to go to the doctor, dentist, eye doctor...normal things...even if my kids weren't involved in a single fucking thing sucks the life out of me in driving.
Move, you say? Thought of that. Many times. But really, where am I going to work that's convenient and make money? Julie's going through hell right now just trying to get Hayden picked up from daycare and keep both of them working and Hayden has ZERO extracurricular activities.
Anyway, I'm burning out. But what I realize, too is that I've never been this busy with my kids AND this stressed out at work. Work is usually pretty consistent. And when it's bad, there's someone else to share the stress with, brainstorm with, get through things with. I lost that person. It's not that I'm not smart, or don't know my job, or can't do it. I am. I know. I can. But after 5 years of being on a team. 5 years of having that other person, even when they look at you and say "I don't know what to tell you ma'am." And then the lightbulb goes off and you figure out how to fix it. I didn't realize how much I needed that until these last 30 days.
30 days in the hole.
Humble friggin' pie.
Am I burned out of my job? Or do I just need to wait 30 days and re-evaluate? I have dreams of cooking or teaching or something, anything other than this. But is this really so bad? Or am I just in the hole? What are your dreams? What do you want to do when you grow up?
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
The proverbial cookie jar...
I don't usually talk about current events much in my blog. Everything is so fucked up I don't even know where to begin.
So let's start with Foley - who got his hands caught in the cookie jar. Emailing and instant messaging pages, Mr. Foley? Are you serious? Who is this stupid? He might as well have showed up at one of the "sting" houses set up by Dateline or 20/20 or whoever is running those houses catching the pervs. And if the Republicans truly did know about this last fall, when it was happening and they sat on it...how stupid are they? We found out about Monica, kids, we were going to find out about this. Now a bunch of them look bad instead of one of them looking bad. Why are you covering for a perv soliciting underage youth?? How do you justify that in your political agenda? I just.don't.get.it. I fell asleep during the Colbert Report last night. Damn it! I bet it was good. I must start recording that.
3 school shootings in the past week is it? Or two weeks? And now Bush wants to have a conference on school violence. Really? A new war on terror in the schools? I'd like to see Bush up against the typical high school girl. He's better off in Iraq. I watched the Primetime special on mean teens or whatever it was. It's a whole new ball game. The IM's, the text messages, leading people on to think they're your friend and then slamming them down. I can remember when 3-way calling got big and some people would have a 3rd person listening on the line and try and get the other person to talk about them. It was cruel then, it's cruel now. Now kids have pills and guns and websites helping them kill themselves or other people. They have broken homes (and by broken homes I don't necessarily mean divorced, I mean their homes are BROKEN, not working, not functioning) and parents who are working too hard or playing too hard and not paying enough attention to them to figure out that they're in trouble. What in the fuck is going on? It's so scary....so scary to be the parent of a school age child right now. You raise them right, you give them goals and then they get taken out by some kid at school they had nothing to do with? Or they decide to go to Washington and better their resume and be a page and get sexually harassed by government officials who have been so closeted their whole lives because the religious right can't come to grips with the fact that we have separation of church and state in this country.
I tell my kids I love them every morning before I leave/drop them off. Every.morning. Even the 13-year-old who sometimes, even now, still says it back. Even when we're in front of the school, even though he sometimes sounds like he doesn't mean it. I think we all realize I'm an involved parent. Kevin and I both are. We only get one shot at this ... only one shot at them being 13 and 9. One shot at childhood, adolescence and their formative teen years. I have probably irrevocably fucked them up, but I keep getting back on that horse. Where is everyone else? Why do I feel like one of a handful of parents who are even still in the race? Why are you letting your child wear that to school? Why are you giving your 9-year-old a cell phone? WHO in the fuck do they have to call??? What have you done to your 13-year-old to make them so hateful that they have to needle someone else literally to death? And what the fuck is Dubya going to do to change that??
/end of rant.
Thank you for listening. I feel better now.
So let's start with Foley - who got his hands caught in the cookie jar. Emailing and instant messaging pages, Mr. Foley? Are you serious? Who is this stupid? He might as well have showed up at one of the "sting" houses set up by Dateline or 20/20 or whoever is running those houses catching the pervs. And if the Republicans truly did know about this last fall, when it was happening and they sat on it...how stupid are they? We found out about Monica, kids, we were going to find out about this. Now a bunch of them look bad instead of one of them looking bad. Why are you covering for a perv soliciting underage youth?? How do you justify that in your political agenda? I just.don't.get.it. I fell asleep during the Colbert Report last night. Damn it! I bet it was good. I must start recording that.
3 school shootings in the past week is it? Or two weeks? And now Bush wants to have a conference on school violence. Really? A new war on terror in the schools? I'd like to see Bush up against the typical high school girl. He's better off in Iraq. I watched the Primetime special on mean teens or whatever it was. It's a whole new ball game. The IM's, the text messages, leading people on to think they're your friend and then slamming them down. I can remember when 3-way calling got big and some people would have a 3rd person listening on the line and try and get the other person to talk about them. It was cruel then, it's cruel now. Now kids have pills and guns and websites helping them kill themselves or other people. They have broken homes (and by broken homes I don't necessarily mean divorced, I mean their homes are BROKEN, not working, not functioning) and parents who are working too hard or playing too hard and not paying enough attention to them to figure out that they're in trouble. What in the fuck is going on? It's so scary....so scary to be the parent of a school age child right now. You raise them right, you give them goals and then they get taken out by some kid at school they had nothing to do with? Or they decide to go to Washington and better their resume and be a page and get sexually harassed by government officials who have been so closeted their whole lives because the religious right can't come to grips with the fact that we have separation of church and state in this country.
I tell my kids I love them every morning before I leave/drop them off. Every.morning. Even the 13-year-old who sometimes, even now, still says it back. Even when we're in front of the school, even though he sometimes sounds like he doesn't mean it. I think we all realize I'm an involved parent. Kevin and I both are. We only get one shot at this ... only one shot at them being 13 and 9. One shot at childhood, adolescence and their formative teen years. I have probably irrevocably fucked them up, but I keep getting back on that horse. Where is everyone else? Why do I feel like one of a handful of parents who are even still in the race? Why are you letting your child wear that to school? Why are you giving your 9-year-old a cell phone? WHO in the fuck do they have to call??? What have you done to your 13-year-old to make them so hateful that they have to needle someone else literally to death? And what the fuck is Dubya going to do to change that??
/end of rant.
Thank you for listening. I feel better now.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Woo-hoo - we're on the board!
Finally...FINALLY. Owen's team scored touchdowns in yesterday's game. I cried. I did. I couldn't help myself. I wasn't the only one. Two touchdowns, one completed pass, a quarterback sack and a great tackle to end a drive on 4th down. Owen had great game personally, and the team was a completely different team than the one that's been playing all season. We still lost, but the game was awesome.
So what does my boy remember? He threw an interception that scored a touchdown. Ummmm, Owen, didn't Hasselback do that same thing last night? And he gets paid a lot of money NOT to do that.
Oh boy.
We camped - it was fun...a little rainy on Friday night, but the Braveman tent that we borrowed totally rocked! Thanks Jul! Saturday was GORGEOUS. I got some great pictures I'll be posting to the kodak gallery soon.
What did you do to enjoy the weather this weekend? How 'bout them Colts? How 'bout them Bears? How 'bout them Irish?
So what does my boy remember? He threw an interception that scored a touchdown. Ummmm, Owen, didn't Hasselback do that same thing last night? And he gets paid a lot of money NOT to do that.
Oh boy.
We camped - it was fun...a little rainy on Friday night, but the Braveman tent that we borrowed totally rocked! Thanks Jul! Saturday was GORGEOUS. I got some great pictures I'll be posting to the kodak gallery soon.
What did you do to enjoy the weather this weekend? How 'bout them Colts? How 'bout them Bears? How 'bout them Irish?
Friday, September 29, 2006
It's like deja vu all over again...
OMG - so Alex has a girlfriend. Okay. Not a girlfriend. A girl who is a friend. And he likes her. I mean he LIKES HER likes her. And I'm pretty sure she likes him likes him, too, because, well, she can't stop poking at him and she gives him things. And she's adorable.
So I'm at the soccer game yesterday, and this girl, we'll call her Nancy (no name to sling her name through the blog mud), she's supposed to be on the team...wait...let me back up.
Nancy's mom offered to take Alex home...wait...not far enough.
I get this fucking soccer schedule and all of the games start at 4pm. Which means they have to be on the field warming up at 3:30. Which, when the games are at home at Trinity is NO problem. The problem, kiddies, is that some of these games are conveniently located in places like Hobart, Munster, VALPO. Seriously? Does no one work at this place? How in the hell do they pay tuition? Anyway, a couple of weeks ago Nancy's mom approached me and offered to pick Alex up after school with Nancy on game days and get him to wherever he needs to be at 3:30. BRILLIANT. Granted, I still have to take time off just to get to the games, but not AS MUCH time. Yesterday was the first away game and Nancy's mom picked up Al and got him where he needed to be.
When I get to the game I talk to Nancy's mom, thank her for taking care of the boy and ask how things went. She says he did fine considering she had 4 girls at her house that she was taking to the game. Alex took it all in stride she said. Good man. Of course he's going to take it all in stride...he's in puppy love with your daughter.
So now we get to the part where I'm at the game. Nancy is supposed to be on the team, but is in an air cast right now from a tragic soccer play gone awry a couple of weeks ago. So now she's the "manager" and still attends the games. She comes bounding over to me at one point, "Hi Alex's mom!" and HUGS me. Okay, I have a very small personal space, so whatever. Starts chatting about this and that and whatever...small talk...watching me take pictures of Al, laughing at the pictures. She eventually wanders off and I had this flashback. I have done this. I have been the giggling 8th grade girl. I have made small talk with the parents of the boy I like.
I was frozen in time. It was bizarro world. I didn't quite know what to make of it. Of course, Julie reminded me that I was totally making out with boys at this age (Brian Fine in the 8th grade - what I didn't know then was that was my first rock star encounter...guess it stuck). Oh many a football game of making out in the park in my band sweater (remember the LMS blue?). I can remember "Hi Mrs. Fine!" and chatting it up. Sweet Jesus with a caffeine buzz...I am NOT ready for this.
At the end of the game she came to say goodbye - and - get this - complimented my coat. "I love your coat, it's really pretty." "Thanks, Old Navy" "Really?" "Yeah, I love them." "Alex must, too, because he wears all of their stuff."
Oh my.
So I'm at the soccer game yesterday, and this girl, we'll call her Nancy (no name to sling her name through the blog mud), she's supposed to be on the team...wait...let me back up.
Nancy's mom offered to take Alex home...wait...not far enough.
I get this fucking soccer schedule and all of the games start at 4pm. Which means they have to be on the field warming up at 3:30. Which, when the games are at home at Trinity is NO problem. The problem, kiddies, is that some of these games are conveniently located in places like Hobart, Munster, VALPO. Seriously? Does no one work at this place? How in the hell do they pay tuition? Anyway, a couple of weeks ago Nancy's mom approached me and offered to pick Alex up after school with Nancy on game days and get him to wherever he needs to be at 3:30. BRILLIANT. Granted, I still have to take time off just to get to the games, but not AS MUCH time. Yesterday was the first away game and Nancy's mom picked up Al and got him where he needed to be.
When I get to the game I talk to Nancy's mom, thank her for taking care of the boy and ask how things went. She says he did fine considering she had 4 girls at her house that she was taking to the game. Alex took it all in stride she said. Good man. Of course he's going to take it all in stride...he's in puppy love with your daughter.
So now we get to the part where I'm at the game. Nancy is supposed to be on the team, but is in an air cast right now from a tragic soccer play gone awry a couple of weeks ago. So now she's the "manager" and still attends the games. She comes bounding over to me at one point, "Hi Alex's mom!" and HUGS me. Okay, I have a very small personal space, so whatever. Starts chatting about this and that and whatever...small talk...watching me take pictures of Al, laughing at the pictures. She eventually wanders off and I had this flashback. I have done this. I have been the giggling 8th grade girl. I have made small talk with the parents of the boy I like.
I was frozen in time. It was bizarro world. I didn't quite know what to make of it. Of course, Julie reminded me that I was totally making out with boys at this age (Brian Fine in the 8th grade - what I didn't know then was that was my first rock star encounter...guess it stuck). Oh many a football game of making out in the park in my band sweater (remember the LMS blue?). I can remember "Hi Mrs. Fine!" and chatting it up. Sweet Jesus with a caffeine buzz...I am NOT ready for this.
At the end of the game she came to say goodbye - and - get this - complimented my coat. "I love your coat, it's really pretty." "Thanks, Old Navy" "Really?" "Yeah, I love them." "Alex must, too, because he wears all of their stuff."
Oh my.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Bad things happen to good people...
I don't really want to be a downer, but something's been going on that most of you know about, some of you don't.
We lost someone in our community last Friday evening. Randy Rollins and his daughter Sara were killed in an automobile accident on Rt. 10 in Knox. Randy was a volunteer fireman, EMT, little league coach. He touched our lives through Scouting - his son is a scout in my pack. Randy always made sure the kids got to see the firetrucks and talked about fire prevention, came "camping" with us at the lock-in in the spring. What I knew of him, he was a great guy, great father, great humanitarian. What I'm finding out is that I didn't know the half of it.
I was sad all weekend, and now I'm sad again today because the calls are coming in with the funeral arrangements. Anything I have to say about any of this is going to sound cheesy and cliche. Life's too short. Live for today because you never know what can happen. Make sure you tell the people in your life how much they mean to you. Hug your kids. Call your parents and tell them you love them.... But it's all true. So do it. Now.
On a much lighter note - Alex has started a blog. He's very excited about it.
Eileen has a new column and it's HILARIOUS - there's also a picture! So go out and meet our friend in Oregon!
We lost someone in our community last Friday evening. Randy Rollins and his daughter Sara were killed in an automobile accident on Rt. 10 in Knox. Randy was a volunteer fireman, EMT, little league coach. He touched our lives through Scouting - his son is a scout in my pack. Randy always made sure the kids got to see the firetrucks and talked about fire prevention, came "camping" with us at the lock-in in the spring. What I knew of him, he was a great guy, great father, great humanitarian. What I'm finding out is that I didn't know the half of it.
I was sad all weekend, and now I'm sad again today because the calls are coming in with the funeral arrangements. Anything I have to say about any of this is going to sound cheesy and cliche. Life's too short. Live for today because you never know what can happen. Make sure you tell the people in your life how much they mean to you. Hug your kids. Call your parents and tell them you love them.... But it's all true. So do it. Now.
On a much lighter note - Alex has started a blog. He's very excited about it.
Eileen has a new column and it's HILARIOUS - there's also a picture! So go out and meet our friend in Oregon!
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Out of the weeds...
And boy does it feel good.
Usually my job stress isn't that great...we roll along here. And the things that do happen, mostly I can contain, handle, move on. Sometimes it keeps me here for 8 hours on Sunday with a dead firewall, but it gets handled and I move on.
This past couple of weeks have been hell. We migrated a system and the things that were happening, the bad things, the stressful things...well, they were out of my control. I don't think of myself as a control freak (do you? Am I?) - but this was more than I can take. To rely on the honesty, competency and fortitude of others in my moment of need? Horrible. I want to know what's happening, must know what's happening so I can make decisions, plan for hours that may keep me here longer, plan if I need to seek new employment. I have to acknowledge the fears of others with my only response as "I'm monitoring this, I'm contacting the proper people, I'll let you know when I know something." And let me tell ya - that SUCKS. And not in a small way. It really SUCKS.
We do so much of our own stuff here that other geeks outsource - so if something breaks, usually I just have to put my nose to the grindstone and work.it.out. Google a lot. Find the answer, tackle the problem, sure to fix things so the problem never happens again. But this? This was completely out of my hands. 45 minutes and no call back on my support question? I'm sooooo calling your supervisor, or in this case everyone I've ever talked to in your organization. I want attention and I want it NOW. I want an answer and I want it NOW. I'm like a 5 year old who wants a gumball. At least placate me by taking the information and telling me you're working on it.
I know lots of people who feel this very same frustration with their IT people at the office. I like to think that I take in stuff and turn it around in a fairly quick manner. Sometimes I forget things. Sometimes people shouldn't call me when they know I'm forgetful. I don't know how many times I can tell people to email me. Yesterday I had an email problem and as soon as I was making headway? We lost power for two hours. And the Pepsi guy showed up to stock the pop machine. And the Xerox guy showed up to fix the copier I had called about. And the printer guy showed up to fix a printer. In the dark. Of course they did. And after everything was all said and done, someone called me to tell me about a problem. You're kidding me, right? I'm tying up 52 loose ends and you're CALLING me? 5 minutes later I finished up what I was working on and walked right by this person twice before I remembered that I was supposed to be helping her. TWICE. And she never said a word. And helping her was the REASON I left my office, people!
But today? Today I'm here with you. Things aren't perfect, but I don't think we've lost anything and I'm learning more about email headers than I ever wanted to know. How do you feel when you're out of control? Aside from persistent follow-up, how do you handle things that are out of your control? Tonight is family movie night...Netflix delivered yesterday - the kids are so excited about watching "Benchwarmers." What's for dinner?
Usually my job stress isn't that great...we roll along here. And the things that do happen, mostly I can contain, handle, move on. Sometimes it keeps me here for 8 hours on Sunday with a dead firewall, but it gets handled and I move on.
This past couple of weeks have been hell. We migrated a system and the things that were happening, the bad things, the stressful things...well, they were out of my control. I don't think of myself as a control freak (do you? Am I?) - but this was more than I can take. To rely on the honesty, competency and fortitude of others in my moment of need? Horrible. I want to know what's happening, must know what's happening so I can make decisions, plan for hours that may keep me here longer, plan if I need to seek new employment. I have to acknowledge the fears of others with my only response as "I'm monitoring this, I'm contacting the proper people, I'll let you know when I know something." And let me tell ya - that SUCKS. And not in a small way. It really SUCKS.
We do so much of our own stuff here that other geeks outsource - so if something breaks, usually I just have to put my nose to the grindstone and work.it.out. Google a lot. Find the answer, tackle the problem, sure to fix things so the problem never happens again. But this? This was completely out of my hands. 45 minutes and no call back on my support question? I'm sooooo calling your supervisor, or in this case everyone I've ever talked to in your organization. I want attention and I want it NOW. I want an answer and I want it NOW. I'm like a 5 year old who wants a gumball. At least placate me by taking the information and telling me you're working on it.
I know lots of people who feel this very same frustration with their IT people at the office. I like to think that I take in stuff and turn it around in a fairly quick manner. Sometimes I forget things. Sometimes people shouldn't call me when they know I'm forgetful. I don't know how many times I can tell people to email me. Yesterday I had an email problem and as soon as I was making headway? We lost power for two hours. And the Pepsi guy showed up to stock the pop machine. And the Xerox guy showed up to fix the copier I had called about. And the printer guy showed up to fix a printer. In the dark. Of course they did. And after everything was all said and done, someone called me to tell me about a problem. You're kidding me, right? I'm tying up 52 loose ends and you're CALLING me? 5 minutes later I finished up what I was working on and walked right by this person twice before I remembered that I was supposed to be helping her. TWICE. And she never said a word. And helping her was the REASON I left my office, people!
But today? Today I'm here with you. Things aren't perfect, but I don't think we've lost anything and I'm learning more about email headers than I ever wanted to know. How do you feel when you're out of control? Aside from persistent follow-up, how do you handle things that are out of your control? Tonight is family movie night...Netflix delivered yesterday - the kids are so excited about watching "Benchwarmers." What's for dinner?
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Ode to sports....and television
Guest Blog provided by the Jimmer
*copied and pasted directly from an email, and in the interest of the blog comes with the following disclaimers:
Read at your own risk. Reproduction strictly prohibited. All rights reserved. Text used in these documents is made from 100% recycled electrons and magnetic particles. Batteries not included.Avoid contact with skin.Colors may fade. Contents may settle during shipment. Do not bend, fold, mutilate, or spindle.Subject to change without notice. The best safeguard is the use of a good laugh. This is not an offer to sell securities.Slightly enlarged to show detail. Slightly higher west of the Rockies.Your mileage may vary. This supersedes all previous notices.
For those that don’t know me, I am an avid sports fan. I will watch just about any sport. From the core four (Baseball, Football, Basketball, and Hockey) to Auto Racing, Golf and even the Great Outdoor Games. (I especially like the Lumberjack Competitions.) It is my reality show of choice. Today is a sad day. My White Sox are officially out of the playoffs. This coming after their World Series victory was quite the let down. They didn’t deserve it as they played without heart but it still hurt my heart. However, I do have the Chicago Bears to keep my spirits high. Coming off of a huge victory on Sunday against the Minnesota Vikings the Bears are 3-0 with a date against Seattle on Sunday Night Football on Channel 5. Oh, and let’s not for get about the Irish. That was one of the greatest comebacks I have EVA seen…WOW. You see, this is the beauty about sports. It’s real. It’s not the same B.S. you see on T.V. these days. Guys (and girls) are out their laying it all out on the line for my viewing pleasure. Every “episode” is different and usually brings a spectrum of emotions. From joy, to Anger, all the way to Heartache, most of which occur in the same game. But there is no joy in Mudville today as the Sox are out. But, as Cub fans know all to well, there’s always next year. A new season that brings a whole new set of expectations.
So, I ask, what does it for you? What are you watching on T.V. these days? Are you a reality show junkie, sports fanatic or do you watch the Military Channel? (I actually know somebody that does.) Are you a history buff? Do you like biker builder off’s, or do you watch the 24 hour news channels? (Speaking of Jack Bauer, “Get me the President,” said in a husky, raspy voice.) Some people may be game show nuts (I like the Price is Right.) and some may just like the average Sitcom. (2 and a Half Men is great.) Let’s talk kids because maybe, just maybe, I need to expand my own horizons and see if the grass truly is greener on the other side of the fence.
Good Night and God Bless!
Friday, September 22, 2006
C'mon, C'mon, do what you want...
Sooooo, this will be a long, disconnected rambling post about a few different things. Roll up your sleeves...dig in...keep up.
I bowled a 162 in my second game last night. I was ON FIRE baby! Two strikes in the 10th, I almost turkeyed (can I use that as a verb? No? Shit...too bad) It's gotta be the shoes. My other two games were p.i.t.i.f.u.l. Below my average. And my average isn't all that high, people. But my second game now raised my average overall. Oy. Pretty soon I won't be able to live up to my own standards. Huh. Not so unfamiliar a concept.
Anyway.
In other news I signed up for Netflix today. Anyone using it? I know Scott is and has been since Moby Dick was a minnow. But he's technologically savvy like that and I tend to leave my extreme geekness in the office. Though I guess Netflix isn't really all that "geek" a thing to do. Every day people are all over Netflix, light years before me. I added a handful of movies to my queue. It will be a very exciting day when that first envelope arrives. I wonder if it will feel like that commercial and when I get the email that they're sending me a movie I'll come home and the Napoleon Dynamite guy will be sitting on my sofa, only he's not Napoleon Dynamite...he's whatever his character's name is in Benchwarmers, because that's what's at the top of my queue.
In other news...when you first started dating your husband/wife/life partner/flesh-eating disease...what did you do? Where did you go? Date ideas anyone?
Did I mention I bowled a 162?
I am exhausted today. And it is, of course, an action packed weekend. Tiger Cub meeting at my house tonight, hair appt tomorrow (hooray!), skating party tomorrow afternoon, football game on Sunday. I'm planning on making stuffed cabbage one of these days...mmmmmmmm...cabbage.
What are you doing?
Come to Renssel-tucky for some action packed football! Game time 1:30pm.
I bowled a 162 in my second game last night. I was ON FIRE baby! Two strikes in the 10th, I almost turkeyed (can I use that as a verb? No? Shit...too bad) It's gotta be the shoes. My other two games were p.i.t.i.f.u.l. Below my average. And my average isn't all that high, people. But my second game now raised my average overall. Oy. Pretty soon I won't be able to live up to my own standards. Huh. Not so unfamiliar a concept.
Anyway.
In other news I signed up for Netflix today. Anyone using it? I know Scott is and has been since Moby Dick was a minnow. But he's technologically savvy like that and I tend to leave my extreme geekness in the office. Though I guess Netflix isn't really all that "geek" a thing to do. Every day people are all over Netflix, light years before me. I added a handful of movies to my queue. It will be a very exciting day when that first envelope arrives. I wonder if it will feel like that commercial and when I get the email that they're sending me a movie I'll come home and the Napoleon Dynamite guy will be sitting on my sofa, only he's not Napoleon Dynamite...he's whatever his character's name is in Benchwarmers, because that's what's at the top of my queue.
In other news...when you first started dating your husband/wife/life partner/flesh-eating disease...what did you do? Where did you go? Date ideas anyone?
Did I mention I bowled a 162?
I am exhausted today. And it is, of course, an action packed weekend. Tiger Cub meeting at my house tonight, hair appt tomorrow (hooray!), skating party tomorrow afternoon, football game on Sunday. I'm planning on making stuffed cabbage one of these days...mmmmmmmm...cabbage.
What are you doing?
Come to Renssel-tucky for some action packed football! Game time 1:30pm.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Good idea at the time...
So, let's talk about ok, go for a minute, shall we? I forget...Julie - are you responsible for sending me ok, go on treadmills video? I guess they did it live on MTV for the VMA's. If you haven't seen it, run, don't walk to that link above and check it out. It's HILARIOUS and the song stuck, stuck, stuck in my head. So then I went to their website and saw their other videos and got myself totally sucked into this album. iTunes helped me out, because they had it for the bargain basement cost of $6.93. I love most of the songs on it. And I can't get them out of my head. And I think I might have a sort of high school crush on the singer (who is NOT the guy lip-syncing in the videos. that's the bass player, I've learned).
ANYWAY, I digress. I LOVE discovering new bands I like. What I love even more is rediscovering old stuff I like. Owen's music class is singing "We Go Together" from the Grease soundtrack. He asked me if I'd ever heard of it. Ummm, ever heard of it? I immediately started singing it and doing the little stupid dances from the movie all over the garage. His look was pained yet amused. I'm used to this response. He asked me what it was about. I had this vision of me running around the garage re-enacting the different plot points of the movie, starting with "summer lovin...had me a blast...tell me more tell me more" crying through "Hopelessly devoted..." while explaining about how Danny and Sandy really liked each other but weren't anything alike...and jumping on the car for a rousing rendition of "Grease Lightning" which I think, if memory serves, I might have done some dance to at a talent show in grade school. I would rip a handkerchief out of my bosom to start the race and dance like Cha Cha for the prom night scene. I don't know what I would do for beauty school drop out, but I could totally bust out the whole "You're the one that I want" intro. "Tell me about it, stud." It would be BRILLIANT. I know I used to bust into the "go grease lightning" hand motions when I was a kid for no reason. It was a sort of tic. Moving on...
I didn't do any of these things, but you know you're all totally with me. I told Owen I would bring home the soundtrack (yes, it's right here in my desk drawer)...and maybe we would rent the movie. He was AMAZED that a movie THAT OLD would still be at the video store.
For the love.
Alex is mortified because he hated that song when they had to sing it in music class, and now he's subjected to his brother singing it because Owen can't get it out of his head. And now, now Alex is going to suffer because I'll have the soundtrack in the house and car. At least I burned ok, go for Al - so he has some outlet.
ANYWAY, I digress. I LOVE discovering new bands I like. What I love even more is rediscovering old stuff I like. Owen's music class is singing "We Go Together" from the Grease soundtrack. He asked me if I'd ever heard of it. Ummm, ever heard of it? I immediately started singing it and doing the little stupid dances from the movie all over the garage. His look was pained yet amused. I'm used to this response. He asked me what it was about. I had this vision of me running around the garage re-enacting the different plot points of the movie, starting with "summer lovin...had me a blast...tell me more tell me more" crying through "Hopelessly devoted..." while explaining about how Danny and Sandy really liked each other but weren't anything alike...and jumping on the car for a rousing rendition of "Grease Lightning" which I think, if memory serves, I might have done some dance to at a talent show in grade school. I would rip a handkerchief out of my bosom to start the race and dance like Cha Cha for the prom night scene. I don't know what I would do for beauty school drop out, but I could totally bust out the whole "You're the one that I want" intro. "Tell me about it, stud." It would be BRILLIANT. I know I used to bust into the "go grease lightning" hand motions when I was a kid for no reason. It was a sort of tic. Moving on...
I didn't do any of these things, but you know you're all totally with me. I told Owen I would bring home the soundtrack (yes, it's right here in my desk drawer)...and maybe we would rent the movie. He was AMAZED that a movie THAT OLD would still be at the video store.
For the love.
Alex is mortified because he hated that song when they had to sing it in music class, and now he's subjected to his brother singing it because Owen can't get it out of his head. And now, now Alex is going to suffer because I'll have the soundtrack in the house and car. At least I burned ok, go for Al - so he has some outlet.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
It's a blogger's life
Guest Blog provided by the Jimmer
*copied and pasted directly from an email, and in the interest of the blog comes with the following disclaimers:
Submissions posted reflect the views and opinions of the interested party only and do not necessarily represent the views of the blog.May be too intense for some viewers.No animals were harmed in the production of these documents.Avoid extreme temperatures and store in a cool dry place.Beware of dog.Breaking seal constitutes acceptance of agreement.Do not place near flammable or magnetic source.Falling rock.If condition persists, consult your physician.User assumes full liabilities.You must be present to win.
*copied and pasted directly from an email, and in the interest of the blog comes with the following disclaimers:
Submissions posted reflect the views and opinions of the interested party only and do not necessarily represent the views of the blog.May be too intense for some viewers.No animals were harmed in the production of these documents.Avoid extreme temperatures and store in a cool dry place.Beware of dog.Breaking seal constitutes acceptance of agreement.Do not place near flammable or magnetic source.Falling rock.If condition persists, consult your physician.User assumes full liabilities.You must be present to win.
Some of you may or may not know that Rebecca has been extremely busy at work these last few days. So, since I’ve commented on it in the past, she asked if I would “pinch blog” for her. At first, I was thrilled. However, over the last few hours I’ve realized that this isn’t as easy as it seems. Picking a topic and rambling about it is usually my thing. Ask anybody that knows me. But, when it came to my “15 minutes of fame” I began fumbling around. What should I write about? Does anybody care about that? After all, in my opinion the object of the blog is to spark conversation amongst this group. Isn’t it? Which means, the only measuring stick for a blog is the number of responses one gets, right? I don’t know, you tell me. Then again, maybe you don’t care about this. Anywho, I finally realized what a blow, or boost, a blog can be to the blogger’s self-esteem. Which brings me to my point; I think we should all take a moment out of our day to thank Rebecca. Since the inception of the blog, she has brought us entertaining quips that take us out of our daily lives and has given us a moment to relax and keep things in perspective. So, Hooray Rebecca!! Hooray Blogs!! Boo No Responses!!
P.S. I couldn’t submit this without making a couple of comments about sports. After all, I’m consumed by it.
1) White Sox – They are in trouble. 11 games left and they need to win at least 10…
2) Cubs – They have been done since the season started.
3) Bears – Looks like we actually have an offense this year…How long will that keep up though?
4) Black Hawks – Who cares? You can’t even watch the home games on TV. They did win their first preseason game last night though.
Where the hell is everyone?
One minute you're all emailing me because I'm not posting. Now I'm posting and none of you are anywhere to be found. No one. Nada. What's up?
Circa Ducky "Do I offend?"
Don't tell me you guys are actually working, too???
Worst days ever in the last week here at work - I rely on you for my comic relief...someone, please, throw me a flotation device of some kind.
Circa Ducky "Do I offend?"
Don't tell me you guys are actually working, too???
Worst days ever in the last week here at work - I rely on you for my comic relief...someone, please, throw me a flotation device of some kind.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Drum roll please...
So Alex had his first lesson with his new drum instructor last night. He's an older guy, kind of stutters when he talks...not on words...on whole sentences...so he repeats himself a lot. But he's supernice. After Alex's lesson he pulls me into a side room saying "We need to talk."
This sounded serious.
Basically he wanted to tell me that Alex is an extremely proficient drummer. Leap years ahead of his time for the amount of time he's spent in lessons. But he doesn't know what he's doing. Whoops. He said "I don't want to knock any other lessons, but Alex is doing these fantastic rolls, but when I ask him if can do a such-and-such roll, he'll say no. Then I'll demonstrate it and not only will he do that, but he'll do the one that's more difficult than that." So Alex doesn't know what anything is called, but he's doing all of these amazing percussion type things.
Doesn't this sound great?
Ummmm, yeah...I'M RAISING A DRUMMER. For the love. Seriously? A drummer? Keith Moon? Tommy Lee? And holy mother...Max Weinberg? Ringo Starr? Kenny Aranoff - the happiest drummer alive. And that one armed guy from Def Leppard. I mean I guess there's redemption in Phil Collins and Don Henley...sort of. And Neil (if you're asking Neil who, stop talking to me). And that AWESOME guy that plays with McCartney. I dated my fair share of drummers...they never.stop.drumming. On the steering wheel, on the dashboard...on their legs, on your shoulder when they have their arm around you. It's maddening, I tell you.
Wasn't I a good mother? Is this what karma has brought me? A son with a drum kit right over my head? Is this my payback for breaking up with Bill Trowbridge not once, not twice but 3 or 4 times and then being in the car when his girlfriend decided to steal it and wreck it? *shaking my fist at the sky* IS MY KARMA DEBT PAID???
Anyway...Alex loves this new drum instructor. Says he has a great sense of humor. And this guy thinks the world of Alex. I'm excited for him. I think he's going to learn a lot. And he definitely loves it. Ask my mom who was so tickled at the site of Alex drumming his fingers on the dining room table she almost fell over. She's dying to have a grandson in the "drumline." You can take the daughter out of the marching band, but you can't take the marching band fan out of the (grand)mother. Oy. I can just see him now, wearing a snare and some hat with a feather. Does Andrean have a marching band? No? Janet will be devastated.
ETA: Alex is hilarious btw - there's something to be said for raising a smart boy with a broad vocabulary. Last night on the ride home...Alex and Owen are goofing off in the backseat and I was telling them that if they didn't stop it they would have to rub my feet when we got home. Next thing I know Alex says "Moooooom, Owen is looking at me triumphantly." Are you KIDDING me? Who SAYS that? Looking at me triumphantly?? TRIUMPHANTLY??? Killing me.
This sounded serious.
Basically he wanted to tell me that Alex is an extremely proficient drummer. Leap years ahead of his time for the amount of time he's spent in lessons. But he doesn't know what he's doing. Whoops. He said "I don't want to knock any other lessons, but Alex is doing these fantastic rolls, but when I ask him if can do a such-and-such roll, he'll say no. Then I'll demonstrate it and not only will he do that, but he'll do the one that's more difficult than that." So Alex doesn't know what anything is called, but he's doing all of these amazing percussion type things.
Doesn't this sound great?
Ummmm, yeah...I'M RAISING A DRUMMER. For the love. Seriously? A drummer? Keith Moon? Tommy Lee? And holy mother...Max Weinberg? Ringo Starr? Kenny Aranoff - the happiest drummer alive. And that one armed guy from Def Leppard. I mean I guess there's redemption in Phil Collins and Don Henley...sort of. And Neil (if you're asking Neil who, stop talking to me). And that AWESOME guy that plays with McCartney. I dated my fair share of drummers...they never.stop.drumming. On the steering wheel, on the dashboard...on their legs, on your shoulder when they have their arm around you. It's maddening, I tell you.
Wasn't I a good mother? Is this what karma has brought me? A son with a drum kit right over my head? Is this my payback for breaking up with Bill Trowbridge not once, not twice but 3 or 4 times and then being in the car when his girlfriend decided to steal it and wreck it? *shaking my fist at the sky* IS MY KARMA DEBT PAID???
Anyway...Alex loves this new drum instructor. Says he has a great sense of humor. And this guy thinks the world of Alex. I'm excited for him. I think he's going to learn a lot. And he definitely loves it. Ask my mom who was so tickled at the site of Alex drumming his fingers on the dining room table she almost fell over. She's dying to have a grandson in the "drumline." You can take the daughter out of the marching band, but you can't take the marching band fan out of the (grand)mother. Oy. I can just see him now, wearing a snare and some hat with a feather. Does Andrean have a marching band? No? Janet will be devastated.
ETA: Alex is hilarious btw - there's something to be said for raising a smart boy with a broad vocabulary. Last night on the ride home...Alex and Owen are goofing off in the backseat and I was telling them that if they didn't stop it they would have to rub my feet when we got home. Next thing I know Alex says "Moooooom, Owen is looking at me triumphantly." Are you KIDDING me? Who SAYS that? Looking at me triumphantly?? TRIUMPHANTLY??? Killing me.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Momma bear claws are coming out...
Most of you know me. Some of you are just my BBFF - best blogging friends forever (thanks Eileen) - but most of you actually know me. I'm not a worrier - I'm a water-off-a-duck's-back kinda gal. I'm the same way with my children. I don't worry. Sometimes people are like "doesn't such-and-such scare you?" And maybe the problem is not only doesn't it scare me - it doesn't even occur to me that I should worry. Is that good? Bad? Somewhere in between?
Well, kids - the lamb was sent to slaughter this weekend. I'm officially worried. Owen got CREAMED on Sunday. Not just hit, like "rrrrrrrr, this is FOOTBALL." CREAMED with a capital EAMED. He didn't get up. Those Slicer boys just came over the line and pummeled my boy. And then he didn't get up. And he wasn't moving. And I've flashed back to every sports film I've ever seen where the hit gets replayed in slow motion and wham!wham!wham! and he's not moving. First I just stood up. Then I came down to the bottom of the bleachers. I contemplated running onto the field. But Coach Kevin was running faster than I've seen in years, so I felt good about that, at least. But I didn't know what was happening and it was scary. I'm surprised the Janet wasn't out there, to be quite honest. She kept her cool better than I did! And when it comes to her grandkids, no one can lose her cool like the Janet. :)
He got up after a few minutes and ran off the field - sat out a couple of plays and then was back in it. He took quite a few horrible hits yesterday - one where kids actually came at him from the front and the back and he kind of got scissored. Yowzers. Usually I wait for his reaction before I react - when he pops back up and runs to the huddle, I breathe just fine. But in those moments where he doesn't - I think my heart stops.
On the flip side, Alex looks to be quite the aggressive player these days in soccer. His first game is next Monday. I'll try to have some pics.
Well, kids - the lamb was sent to slaughter this weekend. I'm officially worried. Owen got CREAMED on Sunday. Not just hit, like "rrrrrrrr, this is FOOTBALL." CREAMED with a capital EAMED. He didn't get up. Those Slicer boys just came over the line and pummeled my boy. And then he didn't get up. And he wasn't moving. And I've flashed back to every sports film I've ever seen where the hit gets replayed in slow motion and wham!wham!wham! and he's not moving. First I just stood up. Then I came down to the bottom of the bleachers. I contemplated running onto the field. But Coach Kevin was running faster than I've seen in years, so I felt good about that, at least. But I didn't know what was happening and it was scary. I'm surprised the Janet wasn't out there, to be quite honest. She kept her cool better than I did! And when it comes to her grandkids, no one can lose her cool like the Janet. :)
He got up after a few minutes and ran off the field - sat out a couple of plays and then was back in it. He took quite a few horrible hits yesterday - one where kids actually came at him from the front and the back and he kind of got scissored. Yowzers. Usually I wait for his reaction before I react - when he pops back up and runs to the huddle, I breathe just fine. But in those moments where he doesn't - I think my heart stops.
On the flip side, Alex looks to be quite the aggressive player these days in soccer. His first game is next Monday. I'll try to have some pics.
Friday, September 15, 2006
The reason for my downtime...
So I downed my site the other day. A minor little panic attack on my part. I mean, I'm a geek, I know this is out there for the universe to read. And I know I'm not always nice about people, about things, about people doing things...but for the most part, I really feel like my readership on this blog is confined to the people I'm not bashing. That is an entirely different site that you guys know NOTHING about, because that's where I talk about you.
HA!
I'm just kidding.
Am I?
Sure I am! I love you guys...love you like I would marry you...group hug!
One person that has read this blog is my oldest son, Alex. He's 13 and God love him, he thinks I'm HILARIOUS. Poor sap. I've really scarred him for life with my senseless babble, but I'm proud to say I do still have the ability to crack that boy into a belly laugh. Remember him the day after Meg's wedding? He didn't want to go outside and play because he wanted to stay and listen to our war stories from the night before. He thinks we're all super fucking funny, actually, and I've always loved that about him. He gets it.
And not that he reads my blog everyday, in fact, I think he's only read it twice. But I think he would read it everyday...and therein lies our problem. The other day I posted my longwinded rambling about CMKM and my visit to her house. Not 5 minutes after the fact, a response posted. It was from "alex", and all it was was a smiley face.
Okay - something you all don't know is that most of the time if I email Al, his response is usually a one word answer and a smiley. This response on my blog TOTALLY freaked me out. Ask Julie, I was on the phone with her when I read it. He's at school, and yes, at some point he has a computer class. I would like to think that he didn't actually know the address of my blog by heart, but damn him he has my memory for such things. I would like to think that he wouldn't pull my blog up in school, but damn him he thinks I'm funny. I would like to think he wouldn't share that information with his classmates, but he does like to share his funny nonsense with the world...and that just might mean MY funny nonsense.
So I downed the site until I could confer with my client.
After school I asked him if he was on my blog today...no. And then he said "I'm not even sure I could get there if I wanted to. We didn't even have computers today." PHEW! Crisis avoided...blog back online. I reinforced the fact that hey, I might say things that other people don't appreciate/find funny/understand...so let's make sure we keep this blog to ourselves. He whole-heartedly agreed. LOVE that boy.
HA!
I'm just kidding.
Am I?
Sure I am! I love you guys...love you like I would marry you...group hug!
One person that has read this blog is my oldest son, Alex. He's 13 and God love him, he thinks I'm HILARIOUS. Poor sap. I've really scarred him for life with my senseless babble, but I'm proud to say I do still have the ability to crack that boy into a belly laugh. Remember him the day after Meg's wedding? He didn't want to go outside and play because he wanted to stay and listen to our war stories from the night before. He thinks we're all super fucking funny, actually, and I've always loved that about him. He gets it.
And not that he reads my blog everyday, in fact, I think he's only read it twice. But I think he would read it everyday...and therein lies our problem. The other day I posted my longwinded rambling about CMKM and my visit to her house. Not 5 minutes after the fact, a response posted. It was from "alex", and all it was was a smiley face.
Okay - something you all don't know is that most of the time if I email Al, his response is usually a one word answer and a smiley. This response on my blog TOTALLY freaked me out. Ask Julie, I was on the phone with her when I read it. He's at school, and yes, at some point he has a computer class. I would like to think that he didn't actually know the address of my blog by heart, but damn him he has my memory for such things. I would like to think that he wouldn't pull my blog up in school, but damn him he thinks I'm funny. I would like to think he wouldn't share that information with his classmates, but he does like to share his funny nonsense with the world...and that just might mean MY funny nonsense.
So I downed the site until I could confer with my client.
After school I asked him if he was on my blog today...no. And then he said "I'm not even sure I could get there if I wanted to. We didn't even have computers today." PHEW! Crisis avoided...blog back online. I reinforced the fact that hey, I might say things that other people don't appreciate/find funny/understand...so let's make sure we keep this blog to ourselves. He whole-heartedly agreed. LOVE that boy.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
I need to be a better geek...
Because really - I needed cameras with me yesterday. Sweet Jesus wearing a peace sign - this house...straight out of the 1974 guide to home decorating. I needed my Maxwell Smart secret squirrel camera pen, or a broach recording video footage or something. You all simply would NOT believe it. She is holding open houses for her products in September, October and November. I am accepting applications for the volunteers to go with me to one of these events to validate what I am about to describe.
First - ding for me on the foyer being ceramic. What I didn't anticipate was the floral wallpaper. I should have seen it coming. The house is a 1960-something design with HUGE windows in the front. Yellow brick - and the doors are...wait for it...turquoise. The wallpaper in the foyer almost tries to eat you when you walk in, the flowers are that.big. When you walk in you can either go through another set of doors or go down some L shaped stairs to the right. These stairs have the old school wrough-iron handrail - you know what I'm talking about. When you get downstairs - there's like this sitting room. It's HUGE...with bookcases and knick-knacks everywhere. A whole dresser/table with beer steins on it. ??? Then she took me into another room.
Holy mother....I wasn't sure if I was trying skin care products or shooting porn. Red carpet. Red velvet bench seats. Pool table. Bar with this strange circa 1972 globe lighting system. And in the corner? A Christmas tree of lanterns with poinsettia wraparounds. Products were lined up on the bench seats and at the end? A yooooooge raggedy-ann doll. I mean almost life-size. But WAIT, If forgot my FAVORITE part. as you walk into this "rec" room...the wall was lined with one of those knee-high planters with ginormous fake rubber plants in it. An the planter itself was supposed to look like it was made from sawed off trees. Seriously. I want to draw you a picture. And there were products EVERYWHERE. On every surface. The bench seating, the pool table, the bar...lined up like this was a store and not a "rec" room.
When we start she tells me that she had her "assistant" set everything up today, and she didn't get out everything she needed, so she's dashing to this other back part of the basement to grab stuff every now and again. This woman had a whole room of products. I got the impression she's been doing this awhile. She has an ASSISTANT? Whodawa?
We started with skin care, and despite my best efforts - I really liked the stuff. I've got samples of the hydrator and the microderm abrasion skin scrub or whatever the shit is actually called - it was really great.
But "glamour"? Not-so-much. First - I suck at glamour...make-up...or anything that resembles it. So if you hand me a sampler of 3 eyeshadows, despite the color-by-numbers pics that come with it, I will screw it up. The eye color was fine, except for the sage eyeliner (I just can't do it) - but the lip color that came with the set? Seriously...CORAL. More like a coral/fuschia...and when she opens it declares "that color will look great on you." You're fucking kidding me, right? Have you seen my skin tone? Eye color? Hair color? Lady, I don't know diddly squat shit and I know that that color is hideous on ANYONE...especially ME. But I put it on, you know why? Because I could. And I wanted someone to see it. Alex was no help. I asked him if I looked weird and he said no. I said 'not even my lipstick looks weird??' and he just shook his head and said 'I'm not good at noticing that sort of stuff.'
But when Kevin got home from football I TOTALLY got the reaction I was looking for. "What in the HELL happened to YOU??" I just laughed. "What is up with that lipstick?? I can't even hardly talk to you - you have to take that off."
I left there purchasing concealer (it's got MAGIC in the bottle that took 5 years off me at LEAST) and mascara. I will probably buy the hydrator and the microderm stuff. My face feels good today and let's face it, I'm not getting any younger.
The conversation was strained at best - talk about the kids...she's a CP native, went to Trinity herself...she "would love the opportunity to come to my house and do a 'show' for my friends." If I thought you all wouldn't show up with pitchforks and torches to kill me I would totally do it.
Mostly I was proud of myself. I didn't buy too much. I didn't buy any skin care stuff until I used it for awhile. Be proud of me. But I am going to one of those open houses, with or without you. And I'm taking my camera.
First - ding for me on the foyer being ceramic. What I didn't anticipate was the floral wallpaper. I should have seen it coming. The house is a 1960-something design with HUGE windows in the front. Yellow brick - and the doors are...wait for it...turquoise. The wallpaper in the foyer almost tries to eat you when you walk in, the flowers are that.big. When you walk in you can either go through another set of doors or go down some L shaped stairs to the right. These stairs have the old school wrough-iron handrail - you know what I'm talking about. When you get downstairs - there's like this sitting room. It's HUGE...with bookcases and knick-knacks everywhere. A whole dresser/table with beer steins on it. ??? Then she took me into another room.
Holy mother....I wasn't sure if I was trying skin care products or shooting porn. Red carpet. Red velvet bench seats. Pool table. Bar with this strange circa 1972 globe lighting system. And in the corner? A Christmas tree of lanterns with poinsettia wraparounds. Products were lined up on the bench seats and at the end? A yooooooge raggedy-ann doll. I mean almost life-size. But WAIT, If forgot my FAVORITE part. as you walk into this "rec" room...the wall was lined with one of those knee-high planters with ginormous fake rubber plants in it. An the planter itself was supposed to look like it was made from sawed off trees. Seriously. I want to draw you a picture. And there were products EVERYWHERE. On every surface. The bench seating, the pool table, the bar...lined up like this was a store and not a "rec" room.
When we start she tells me that she had her "assistant" set everything up today, and she didn't get out everything she needed, so she's dashing to this other back part of the basement to grab stuff every now and again. This woman had a whole room of products. I got the impression she's been doing this awhile. She has an ASSISTANT? Whodawa?
We started with skin care, and despite my best efforts - I really liked the stuff. I've got samples of the hydrator and the microderm abrasion skin scrub or whatever the shit is actually called - it was really great.
But "glamour"? Not-so-much. First - I suck at glamour...make-up...or anything that resembles it. So if you hand me a sampler of 3 eyeshadows, despite the color-by-numbers pics that come with it, I will screw it up. The eye color was fine, except for the sage eyeliner (I just can't do it) - but the lip color that came with the set? Seriously...CORAL. More like a coral/fuschia...and when she opens it declares "that color will look great on you." You're fucking kidding me, right? Have you seen my skin tone? Eye color? Hair color? Lady, I don't know diddly squat shit and I know that that color is hideous on ANYONE...especially ME. But I put it on, you know why? Because I could. And I wanted someone to see it. Alex was no help. I asked him if I looked weird and he said no. I said 'not even my lipstick looks weird??' and he just shook his head and said 'I'm not good at noticing that sort of stuff.'
But when Kevin got home from football I TOTALLY got the reaction I was looking for. "What in the HELL happened to YOU??" I just laughed. "What is up with that lipstick?? I can't even hardly talk to you - you have to take that off."
I left there purchasing concealer (it's got MAGIC in the bottle that took 5 years off me at LEAST) and mascara. I will probably buy the hydrator and the microderm stuff. My face feels good today and let's face it, I'm not getting any younger.
The conversation was strained at best - talk about the kids...she's a CP native, went to Trinity herself...she "would love the opportunity to come to my house and do a 'show' for my friends." If I thought you all wouldn't show up with pitchforks and torches to kill me I would totally do it.
Mostly I was proud of myself. I didn't buy too much. I didn't buy any skin care stuff until I used it for awhile. Be proud of me. But I am going to one of those open houses, with or without you. And I'm taking my camera.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Sometimes the planets just align...
But not Pluto. Because it's not a planet. It's a star, or a moon or a dwarf or something, but it is NOT a planet. So my very excited mother DID NOT just send us nine pizzas. Because there are no pizzas. There is no spoon. Are you with me here people? My very excited mother just sent us nine. Nine what? Nine dwarves apparently...but there were only seven dwarves...and none of them were named Pluto either. So you can see where this continues to get confusing for me. Apparently Disney and NASA need to get together and sort this whole mess out.
The 8 remaining planets (the other 8 are okay, right??) aligned for me last night. Monday is a busy day in the Crum house. I had to leave work (late) and race to pick up Owen. Kev-head was on Alex duty. I got home, fix grilled cheese, took the roast out of the crock pot, dished out soup (vegetable soup, mmmmmm) and set the table. The soup was cool and dinner was ready to go when Alex and Kevin came home. Alex had just enough time to eat and change out of ewwwwww.sweaty soccer clothes before we were off to music lessons. He's supposed to have guitar from 7-730, wait 30 minutes and then drums from 8-830. Do the math here, people...that has me leaving my house at 6:40 and not seeing it again until almost 9. For music lessons. Oy. But Al LOVES it, so we march on. The beauty of last night? Drum lessons were canceled. No one bothered to tell the instructor that he had a new student. This might infuriate some people. I was so happy I almost kissed the receptionist. They were apologizing all over themselves. I told them I had laundry and a nice warm bed waiting for me - and as long as I get a credit for the missed lesson next month, we're golden. :)
So we got home at a much more reasonable hour, cleaned the kitchen, started some laundry...and then Kevin and I actually got to sit in the hot tub. YEAH baby! It's hot tub season. What a great way to wait for the socks & undies to finish in the wash. So I got everything done I needed to, including returning a couple of phone calls about scouting, and I got to bed at a fairly decent hour. After one glass of wine and a hot tub soak, sister was ready for some sleep. HA! Take that Benadryl!
Today is CMKM day - tomorrow should be a very fun blog day. If it's uneventful, don't worry...I'll make shit up.
ETA: The Onion is cracking me up, people! Go and have yourself a laugh. Now. Go already. Geez...you'd think I was asking you to wash my car or something. GO. Will you wash my car? No? Then go read the friggin' onion...
The 8 remaining planets (the other 8 are okay, right??) aligned for me last night. Monday is a busy day in the Crum house. I had to leave work (late) and race to pick up Owen. Kev-head was on Alex duty. I got home, fix grilled cheese, took the roast out of the crock pot, dished out soup (vegetable soup, mmmmmm) and set the table. The soup was cool and dinner was ready to go when Alex and Kevin came home. Alex had just enough time to eat and change out of ewwwwww.sweaty soccer clothes before we were off to music lessons. He's supposed to have guitar from 7-730, wait 30 minutes and then drums from 8-830. Do the math here, people...that has me leaving my house at 6:40 and not seeing it again until almost 9. For music lessons. Oy. But Al LOVES it, so we march on. The beauty of last night? Drum lessons were canceled. No one bothered to tell the instructor that he had a new student. This might infuriate some people. I was so happy I almost kissed the receptionist. They were apologizing all over themselves. I told them I had laundry and a nice warm bed waiting for me - and as long as I get a credit for the missed lesson next month, we're golden. :)
So we got home at a much more reasonable hour, cleaned the kitchen, started some laundry...and then Kevin and I actually got to sit in the hot tub. YEAH baby! It's hot tub season. What a great way to wait for the socks & undies to finish in the wash. So I got everything done I needed to, including returning a couple of phone calls about scouting, and I got to bed at a fairly decent hour. After one glass of wine and a hot tub soak, sister was ready for some sleep. HA! Take that Benadryl!
Today is CMKM day - tomorrow should be a very fun blog day. If it's uneventful, don't worry...I'll make shit up.
ETA: The Onion is cracking me up, people! Go and have yourself a laugh. Now. Go already. Geez...you'd think I was asking you to wash my car or something. GO. Will you wash my car? No? Then go read the friggin' onion...
Monday, September 11, 2006
Curiosity killed the cat...
Oh I admit it...I can get pretty curious. Okay. Nibby. Sometimes other people just intrigue me. And not in that "I want to get to know them" sort of way. I just want to know ABOUT them. I don't know why.
So that's where I am with crazy Mary Kay mom....I'm sooooooo going to her house tomorrow after work, loveys. THIS will be a hoot, I'm sure. I'm already worried about what to wear, because you know her house is the kind where you MUST take your shoes off before stepping off the welcome mat. I can't wear anything that leaves me with bare feet! Because I'll be sweating with nerves all the way over there and then I'll take off my shoes and I'll leave little footy sweat marks on her hardwood/ceramic/marble entranceway. You just KNOW she has one.
Tigger and I were talking about it. What do YOU think CMKM has - angels everywhere or country-kitchen look everywhere? Is there a goose with clothes on her front porch? Is there a curio cabinet lit up 24/7 with precious moments? tea cups? Collectible spoons hanging in the foyer? Does she have a seasonal flag out front? A painted mailbox? I should tell you, she's a VU grad, if that influences your decision making any. And her daughters ride horses. And she drives an Escalade. and no, it's not pink. But her only job, that I know of, is MK.
Cast your votes, now people! And to quote her..."I mainly want to show you the skin care products, and I'll send you home with some glamour items. Since you are more interested in skin care than cosmetics." So maybe I won't leave there looking like a clown?
So that's where I am with crazy Mary Kay mom....I'm sooooooo going to her house tomorrow after work, loveys. THIS will be a hoot, I'm sure. I'm already worried about what to wear, because you know her house is the kind where you MUST take your shoes off before stepping off the welcome mat. I can't wear anything that leaves me with bare feet! Because I'll be sweating with nerves all the way over there and then I'll take off my shoes and I'll leave little footy sweat marks on her hardwood/ceramic/marble entranceway. You just KNOW she has one.
Tigger and I were talking about it. What do YOU think CMKM has - angels everywhere or country-kitchen look everywhere? Is there a goose with clothes on her front porch? Is there a curio cabinet lit up 24/7 with precious moments? tea cups? Collectible spoons hanging in the foyer? Does she have a seasonal flag out front? A painted mailbox? I should tell you, she's a VU grad, if that influences your decision making any. And her daughters ride horses. And she drives an Escalade. and no, it's not pink. But her only job, that I know of, is MK.
Cast your votes, now people! And to quote her..."I mainly want to show you the skin care products, and I'll send you home with some glamour items. Since you are more interested in skin care than cosmetics." So maybe I won't leave there looking like a clown?
Friday, September 08, 2006
Flash update!
Remember creepy mom at graduation who looked at me and said something about "such a pretty girl"...
I think she gets botox injections, because her mouth doesn't move right when she talks. It's very strange.
ANYWAY - that's not what I'm here to tell you about. I'm here to tell you that she approached me yesterday. "Ummmm, yes, Rebecca, I've been meaning to talk to you..." Okay, I was a little scared. It was a little wicked witch of the west for me ... "come here my little pretty, and your little son, too." Her mouth doesn't really move, and she's wearing this dark pink lipstick and she knows my name??? Who knew? "I was wondering if you have any interest in Mary Kay products"
Oh for the love. Well THAT explains a lot. The embroidered denim. The flamboyant jewelry. The always made-up appearance. The staring. Okay, well maybe not the staring.
Am I that transparent? Do I actually, physically wear a sign that says "can't say no." UGH. And proceeds to tell me that she plans to encourage all of the 8th grade parents to maybe buy some of her products because she wants to donate a portion of the proceeds to the D.C. trip fund. Just.kill.me.now. And she wants me to come to her HOUSE so she can "treat me to a makeover." Sweet Jesus playing poker...please. Shoot me. So maybe she wasn't really saying how pretty I was earlier this year. Maybe there was a whole OTHER conversation going on in her head. OUTWARDLY she was saying "such a pretty girl" the END of that statement was in her head "if only she'd use some better skin care products and learn how to actually use make-up, she has potential" She was looking at the ring on my finger, and I thought she was doing the marriage check, when in fact, maybe she was sizing up my rock thinking "I bet I could get some money out of this one" and suckers me in with the whole "I'll donate part of the proceeds".
I told her I could use a hydrator. Only I didn't say that. I said something completely dorky like "I was using some stuff that's supposed to add more water to your skin, or something like that" and she nodded knowingly - ahhhhhh, you need a hydrator. And the tentacles came out and she jammed them into the side of my neck and WHAM! I was stuttering about moisturizers and dry spots and I think an oral fixation problem I had when I was little....I'm not sure...I kind of went into this zone of idiocy.
Anyway, we're totally friends now. Glad that's over. And I managed to find a band-aid for the holes in my neck where she sucked the life out of me. It's very Pulp Fiction.
I think she gets botox injections, because her mouth doesn't move right when she talks. It's very strange.
ANYWAY - that's not what I'm here to tell you about. I'm here to tell you that she approached me yesterday. "Ummmm, yes, Rebecca, I've been meaning to talk to you..." Okay, I was a little scared. It was a little wicked witch of the west for me ... "come here my little pretty, and your little son, too." Her mouth doesn't really move, and she's wearing this dark pink lipstick and she knows my name??? Who knew? "I was wondering if you have any interest in Mary Kay products"
Oh for the love. Well THAT explains a lot. The embroidered denim. The flamboyant jewelry. The always made-up appearance. The staring. Okay, well maybe not the staring.
Am I that transparent? Do I actually, physically wear a sign that says "can't say no." UGH. And proceeds to tell me that she plans to encourage all of the 8th grade parents to maybe buy some of her products because she wants to donate a portion of the proceeds to the D.C. trip fund. Just.kill.me.now. And she wants me to come to her HOUSE so she can "treat me to a makeover." Sweet Jesus playing poker...please. Shoot me. So maybe she wasn't really saying how pretty I was earlier this year. Maybe there was a whole OTHER conversation going on in her head. OUTWARDLY she was saying "such a pretty girl" the END of that statement was in her head "if only she'd use some better skin care products and learn how to actually use make-up, she has potential" She was looking at the ring on my finger, and I thought she was doing the marriage check, when in fact, maybe she was sizing up my rock thinking "I bet I could get some money out of this one" and suckers me in with the whole "I'll donate part of the proceeds".
I told her I could use a hydrator. Only I didn't say that. I said something completely dorky like "I was using some stuff that's supposed to add more water to your skin, or something like that" and she nodded knowingly - ahhhhhh, you need a hydrator. And the tentacles came out and she jammed them into the side of my neck and WHAM! I was stuttering about moisturizers and dry spots and I think an oral fixation problem I had when I was little....I'm not sure...I kind of went into this zone of idiocy.
Anyway, we're totally friends now. Glad that's over. And I managed to find a band-aid for the holes in my neck where she sucked the life out of me. It's very Pulp Fiction.
It's gotta be the shoes...
102, 115, 119...
I bowled two games better than my average of 104. This is a good thing. I think this brings my average up to 108. I am ON FIRE! Everyone loved my shoes. Well, at least that's what they told me. For all I know in their heads they were like "What was she THINKING with those multicolored things???" But to my face they were all "Those are great!" Whatever. I totally love them. And they were comfy. And I bowled well. For me that is...not compared to other people. But I know one person, one MALE bowler in fact that I totally beat last night.
Because he was sitting in jail.
Yeah, around the second frame, 4 uniformed, bullet proof vest wearing officers came in to the bowling alley, walked right up to the lane, TOOK THE BALL OUT OF THIS GUY'S HAND, cuffed him, read him his rights and walked his ass out the door. DRAMA! At the bowling alley! On my second night! This was exciting and scary. My next few frames were not so good. I insisted our whole team should be given treatment for post traumatic stress...it was the freakiest thing ever. But I pulled it out in the end. I overcame the stress, because I'm a winner! From that point forward, our team motto for the evening, no matter how bad the gutter ball or how upsetting the open frame, we would shout "At least we're not in jail." It caught on. Pretty soon even the men were howling "at least we're not in jail" after throwing a bad ball. It was brilliant.
Wanna know what's really awesome about my team? They laugh at my stupidity and GET IT and I get them. They like to quote old stupid movies, they get my old song references...they like to celebrate strikes old school with white girl versions of the running man and roger rabbit. They know what "spirit fingers" means. BRILLIANT.
I can't bowl next Thursday because of a conflict. Part of me is very sad, because we won last night and it's fun. But I gotta tell ya...these last two Friday mornings. Yowzers. Going to bed at midnight sucks.
Alex had a great practice yesterday. At the end they were practicing penalty shots and he had some great upper corner strikes. Hurrah! Kevin said that the coach is teaching Owen some more difficult plays at QB. Apparently his faith in our offensive line is waning, and he feels like his best shot is to try and get Owen to do some tricky stuff. This could be really good...or it could be really, really bad. We'll see next Sunday.
I bowled two games better than my average of 104. This is a good thing. I think this brings my average up to 108. I am ON FIRE! Everyone loved my shoes. Well, at least that's what they told me. For all I know in their heads they were like "What was she THINKING with those multicolored things???" But to my face they were all "Those are great!" Whatever. I totally love them. And they were comfy. And I bowled well. For me that is...not compared to other people. But I know one person, one MALE bowler in fact that I totally beat last night.
Because he was sitting in jail.
Yeah, around the second frame, 4 uniformed, bullet proof vest wearing officers came in to the bowling alley, walked right up to the lane, TOOK THE BALL OUT OF THIS GUY'S HAND, cuffed him, read him his rights and walked his ass out the door. DRAMA! At the bowling alley! On my second night! This was exciting and scary. My next few frames were not so good. I insisted our whole team should be given treatment for post traumatic stress...it was the freakiest thing ever. But I pulled it out in the end. I overcame the stress, because I'm a winner! From that point forward, our team motto for the evening, no matter how bad the gutter ball or how upsetting the open frame, we would shout "At least we're not in jail." It caught on. Pretty soon even the men were howling "at least we're not in jail" after throwing a bad ball. It was brilliant.
Wanna know what's really awesome about my team? They laugh at my stupidity and GET IT and I get them. They like to quote old stupid movies, they get my old song references...they like to celebrate strikes old school with white girl versions of the running man and roger rabbit. They know what "spirit fingers" means. BRILLIANT.
I can't bowl next Thursday because of a conflict. Part of me is very sad, because we won last night and it's fun. But I gotta tell ya...these last two Friday mornings. Yowzers. Going to bed at midnight sucks.
Alex had a great practice yesterday. At the end they were practicing penalty shots and he had some great upper corner strikes. Hurrah! Kevin said that the coach is teaching Owen some more difficult plays at QB. Apparently his faith in our offensive line is waning, and he feels like his best shot is to try and get Owen to do some tricky stuff. This could be really good...or it could be really, really bad. We'll see next Sunday.
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