Oh for the love...

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

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

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

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

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

And then I also read this:

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

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

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

Everything was FINE when I was in Manhattan...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

LIVE from New York....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What I'm thankful for...

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

What I'm thankful for, 2006

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Thanksgiving, yo!

It's been awhile...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love you all like I would marry you.

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

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

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

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

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

Goodness gracious great balls of fire!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unbelievable.

Houston - we have a ball!

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

BRILLIANT.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TANGENT!

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

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

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

TANGENT 2!

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

Sloth breeds sloth...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where IS everyone?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Little known fact....

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh boy.

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

I'm going to continue to share.

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

But I digress.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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?

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.

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!