Monday, March 29, 2010

What I've Been Doing and Dodger Poo

While I have not been blogging I have been drugged. Or not. But when I was not drugged I really wished I was.


That migraine that started last Sunday, as in March 21st, is still going on and none of the drugs in my considerable arsenal have stopped it for more than four hours. Some of them put me to sleep though, so that's really nice.


Bean refuses to let me slam my head in a door, he says that I might hurt the door. I think he's being horribly unfair. Surely we have some door in the house that we don't need??


If you'd like to volunteer to cut my head off please leave a comment with your availability.


On a more bizarre note, my sense of smell has gotten amazingly acute in the last week. No idea whether that has anything to do with the migraine or not, but I keep smelling Dodger poo where there is none. Go figure.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Happy Birthday Miley


Today is my friend Miley's birthday. It's been a nightmare of a year for her and I'm not telling you why because it's none of your business.


Nosy.


Anyway.
Today is her 30th birthday and I just wanted to say Happy Birthday.


And also, thank you.
For 16 years or so of putting up with crazy ole me.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Secret Shelter Basement/Swimming Pool/Attic


This whole healthcare bill thing. I don’t get it. It scares me. Because all the really rightwing people are calling it the end of Democracy. And all the really leftwing people are calling it the salvation of the nation.

Bean & I are moderate. Bean’s the right side of moderate (a little more right than moderate, but still moderate), I’m the left side.

But I wasn’t paying attention when all of this was going down, I was busy with kids and work, and house and church and dog and Mom. So I have no idea what’s going on.
So I’m panicking. I want to build a shelter. I want to stock up on canned goods. I want to buy gold bars and bottled water. I’m a nester and a do-er. I don’t feel safe unless something is done.

So I’ve come up with a plan:

We’re having a garage sale soon, so I’ll be able to clean out the garage really well. And then I’ll be able to set aside a place in the garage for all of our canned goods and bottled water and extra clothes and stuff. We can’t have any gold bars yet, because I don’t know where to put them – obviously they can’t go in the house.

I talked to Bean about a shelter the other day..

Me: I want to you to build us a secret shelter basement.

Bean: We live in southeast Texas.

Me: So??

Bean: We can’t have a basement.

Me: Why not??

Bean: Because it will fill up with water.

Me: Why??

Bean: Because we live too close to sea level.

Me: What does that have to do with anything?? I want a secret shelter basement.

Bean: Honey. Have you noticed that no one here has basements??

Me: Yes. That’s why it will be so fantastic. No one will expect us to have one!!

Bean: We can have a secret underground swimming pool.

Me: Nevermind.

Bean: That’s what I thought.

So that’s a no on the secret shelter basement.. Maybe a secret shelter attic??

I have absolutely no idea what good any of this will do with the Healthcare Bill, but it makes me feel better, and that’s the point, right??

OOOOHHHH The Pain!!!!

Normally my migraines are pretty well controlled. And by that I mean that I only have a slam-my-head-in-the-door-to-stop-this, do-you-really-want-to-ask-me-that-question, leave-me-alone-before-I-kill-you-or-vomit-or-both kind of migraine about twice a month. I have headaches just about every day, but those are fine, completely ignorable and I only have to actually take something three times a week on a bad week.

So maybe to you that doesn’t sound very controlled, but since it’s down from please-chop-my-head-off-because-it-would-be-better-than-dealing-with-one-more-minute-of-this-pain every afternoon, I’m good.

My biggest issue is that they don’t just last for an hour (or four). They last for days. I had one that lasted for three weeks.

This one is pretty massive and we’re on day three. It’s driving me batty because it’s a visual nightmare.

And of course, Jenn can’t have normal auras. I have to have nutty visual crap. I have to have acid trips without the acid. I feel all tiny and crazy.. It’s not really explainable.

Bean was at work when it started on Sunday, I was not pleased that he wasn’t home to be sympathetic. He wasn’t pleased that he wasn’t home because he was at work (plus he does miss me when he’s gone, I mean I am REALLY adorable):

Me: I’m having an acid trippy night and you’re not here.

Bean: Sorry.

Me: I’m all small.

Bean: I could put you in the pocket of my ugly sweater and carry you around.

Me: You could.

Bean: You could ride Dodger* like Falcor!**

Me: I could.

Bean: Or you could go to sleep and I’ll see you in the morning. ***

*Dodger is our dachshund, who weighs all of 5 lbs.
**Falcor is the luck dragon from “The Neverending Story” who looks kindof like a longhaired dachshund, at least to us.
***There was some really gushy stuff in that last line, but you don’t get to see that part, it’s all mine, just like Bean.


Update: I just thought I would tell you that I have a new fun symptom that I have never experienced. Ever.
There’s a cat in my office. Only there’s not. And I didn’t even take any drugs today.

Monday, March 22, 2010

If I Only Had a Brain



I am an idiot. Did you know that?? Oh yeah.








I know absolutely nothing. Not the color of the sky. Not what’s for dinner. Not how to make a dog behave. Not how to spell A-P-P-L-E. Not how to make a six year old behave.


It’s been occurring gradually. At first it was little questions, like this:

Me: Oliver, please go take a shower.

Oliver: Can I take a bath instead?

Me: What time is it?

Oliver: 7:45

Me: Since that’s 15 minutes before bedtime, no. Take a shower.



Then it became help.

Me: Tallulah, please pick up your room.

Oliver: Yeah, Tallulah! Go clean your room!

Tallulah:?!?!

Me: Oliver, I don’t really need your help.



But now it’s outright and open, Mom you are dumb as a stump and I must hold your hand and help you because obviously you don’t know what you’re doing.



Me: Oliver, please don’t roll on the floor with the dog – you’re encouraging bad behavior.

Oliver: (looks at me & continues to roll on the floor with the dog)

Me: (?!?!) Oliver! I asked YOU to stop that!

Oliver: (HUGE melodramatic sigh) Mom. He likes it.

Me: But I don’t.

Oliver: (HUGE melodramatic sigh) Mom. He’s having fun.

Me: But I’m not.

Oliver: (HUGER melodramatic sigh) Fine. I’ll go play my DS.

Me: (And I REALLY hope you’ll excuse this example of HORRIBLE parenting, but at this point it’s a complete credit to my self control that my hands are not around Oliver’s little pre-pubescent throat – you’re not seeing the smirk on his face, it’s INCREDIBLY annoying) OLIVER!! I WASN’T TRYING TO GET YOU TO NOT PLAY WITH THE DOG I WAS TRYING TO GET YOU TO PLAY WITH HIM CORRECTLY, BUT SINCE YOU OBVIOUSLY KNOW BETTER THAN I DO, GO AHEAD AND PLAY WITH HIM HOWEVER YOU WANT AND HE’LL GO AHEAD AND BITE YOU HOWEVER HE WANTS. BUT I HOPE THAT AT SOME POINT YOU MIGHT NOTICE THAT HE DOESN’T BITE ME THAT WAY, SO MAYBE, JUST MAYBE THE WAY THAT I TREAT HIM MIGHT HAVE SOME MERIT.



I don’t know where he gets these emotionally charged dramatic impulses from. I definitely need to ask his Grandma Maude - it's got to come from that side of the family.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Home Wrecker

I routinely hack my mother's Facebook mostly to send myself Farmville gifts. But today there was a posting from someone that caught my eye. It was on an article they had read on infidelity and Facebook and how it made them want to pare down their friends list to girlfriends and family only (obviously posted by a woman). Here's the article.


I don't disagree with most of the article - people cheat, we know this, and the internet is a cheater's playground. The part that got me was how you should set up safeguards for talking to any non-related member of the opposite sex to prevent anything ever becoming an issue.


I've got a problem with that. It's like you're going into it saying "I don't trust that you can control yourself if you instant message a woman, so I'm not allowing it." Really?? Because if you can't trust your husband to TALK to another woman then I really don't think that your biggest problem is IF he's going to cheat on you. It's more like WHEN. Because either your suspicions are totally founded and he's a cheating jerk (in which case why did you marry him?!?!) or you're going to drive him to cheat with your constant accusations and lack of trust!!


Sorry. Bean has friends who are women, and I wouldn't choose to be friends with all of them, because some of them are grumpy irritating loud mouths, but they're his friends, not mine. And my best friend is a man (who he likes, because my taste is awesome and my friends are WAY cooler than his) and I have other guy friends that he's only briefly met and he's still ok with. But he can go out (or instant message) with Little Ms. Irritating or Mrs. Loves Dogs without me whenever & I can go out (or text) with Superman or Peter Parker whenever I want all by myself without a chaperone. And we're ok with that, because we trust each other.


What a novel concept.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Sandwich

When they talk about the "Sandwich Generation" I think they're talking about people who have parents older than mine. My mother is only in her 50's. She isn't the slightest bit incapacitated and she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself.


I think they're talking about people who waited to have children until they were 35 who were also children of parents who had them at 35, so grandma and grandpa are in their 70's or even 80's while they still have kids at home.


So I don't think that I'm truly in the "Sandwich Generation". But I do have my mother living in my house, and though she is capable of taking care of herself, she doesn't really.
I mean, yes, she usually feeds herself and she certainly clothes herself and and she takes care of all of her doctor's appointments. But she doesn't pay her own bills, or do the dishes or help with any housework. At all.
She does help with the kids.


But often when she's helping with the kids she's taking away from things I'd like to do with the kids.
Here's an actual conversation:


Mom: Are you ready?

Me: No, we don't need to leave yet.

Mom: Is Oliver ready?

Me: No, we don't need to leave yet.

Mom: Oliver!!!!!!

Me: ????

Mom: Oliver, do you have a belt? Do you have Katie's number?

Me: (He has to wear a belt? Who's Katie?)

Oliver: What?!?

Mom: I read the paper. You need a belt, and Katie wanted to carpool.

Me: (What paper?)

Mom: Are you riding with us?

Me: (Since I'm not ready because I didn't know we had to pick someone else up because you didn't tell me, I guess not!!) No, I'll take my car.

Mom: Ok, bye!

So here's my question - Am I the parent of 2 small children and a moderately helpful teenager, or is she??

Maybe I'm not truly in the "Sandwich Generation" but I do sometimes feel like chopped beef.

The Island of Serenity


So me and one of my coworkers (the only female coworker I have that I like) have a brilliant plan.


See we don't actually work out of the same office, so we thought that we should have a new office halfway in between just for us and since we both work for the same VP it would work out wonderfully. We thought that we'd call it the Island of Serenity.


This way we wouldn't have to deal with the evil drama queens at her office or the people who like to slow me down at my office, and everyone would be happy. We would be able to get amazing amounts of work done and be happy all at the same time. It would be awesome.


I presented it to our VP today. He said no way. He doesn't want to be without her and I can't leave my guys alone. I'm not giving up though - I really want my Island of Serenity.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Rack Application

So when a male boss decides he's going to hire someone, he gathers all the resumes together and he goes to interview the applicants and if all the applicants are also males then he chooses the best qualified applicant. But if one or more of them happens to be female then he chooses the best qualified applicant with the best looking rack, whether he knows that's what he's doing or not.

When a female boss decides she's going to hire someone, she gathers all the resumes together and interviews the applicants and then decides who out of the best qualified would be the best fit personality wise within the company regardless of what rack they do or do not have.


The problem with all of this is two pronged 1)as many women can attest, hot women know they are hot, and are drama prone and irritating and 2)unfortunately, most of us have male bosses, (or at least I've usually had male bosses). So the best way to counter the inherent stupidity of men in the "Rack Application Process" is to have a trustworthy female assistant who can look at the male boss and say "Really, her rack was not impressive enough to make up for the amount of drama she's going to cause in the office. Go with #3."


Obviously I have experience here. And fortunately after a bit of trial and a lot of error (and a whole lot of "I told you so" from me), my bosses finally decided to listen to me a little when it came to hiring someone new.


Last time it worked out awesome - they got Bean. We'll see if they like the guy I picked this time. Of course if he turns it down & they go with the one I wasn't sure about then I still have a little room to "I told you so", and then we all win.