I Think I’ll Move to Australia

Do you remember that childrens’ book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day??




Yeah, that’s me yesterday.




It started when I had some freaky dreams. I couldn’t tell you what they were, but they were unpleasant.



Then Bean’s ears were non-functional. So every time I said something, he said, “Huh”.

Ya’ll, I’m not a morning person. I really don’t like to talk at all in the mornings, so to have to talk and repeat myself sucks.



Then, I got to work only to realize I’d forgotten my phone.

My phone is my lifeline. It’s not just “in case the kids need me”, though it does serve that purpose. It has my facebook, my ebook, my blog, my email and the entire flippin’ world wide web.

I need my phone.

Bean, after working 12 hours that night, brought it to me – because he’s that amazing.



But here’s the kicker. (Bare with me a little, because Bean’s editing me big time.)

Earlier this week I made a comment to Mr. Opinionated Next Door. A comment that anyone in their right mind would have taken as a joke, or at the very most would have thought, “Damn, she’s a fucktard”, and then moved on.

Not Mr. OND. He fucking went to Redneck Boss and tattled on me.



So Redneck Boss called me into his office to tear me a new ass.



I told him I was joking.


He tore into my ass some more.


I explained how it should be obvious that I was joking.


He tore my ass some more.



I was now beyond controlling my facial expression so he fucking asked me what was wrong!!

I wanted to say:

What’s wrong is that you’re a pussy assed dickwhistle, and I can’t believe that you didn’t stand up for me to the douchecanoe next door!!



What I actually said was:

I’m livid with Mr. OND. He - and his entire staff - make crude, sexual innuendo laced comments all the fucking time, and I don't say a word. But I say one thing and he decides to get all huffy about it?? That's fucked up

And then I told Redneck Boss that I would just not talk to Mr. OND anymore, so it was fine.

He tried to argue with me and I just told him that nothing in my job required me to talk to Mr. OND.



Here's the thing - I never have attitude at work. At least not real attitude. And the guys all know that I'm joking. They know that I'm not offended and I have never called them on their offensive stuff. Ever. And I have never hesitated to do everything asked of me, even when I feel like it's not my job. I just do it.
So why would Redneck Boss think that all the sudden after 3 years I've gotten attitude????

Plus - Mr. OND is the same guy who royally fucked over Bean and laid him off the minute he was cleared from disability, and I have never acted like I loathe him or even attempted to punch him in the trachea.

Why?? Because even though I work in an extraordinarily UNprofessional office, I am professional.

So suck it Mr. OND & Redneck Boss.


Oh, and I think I'll move to Australia.

Fawk You Friday

Yeah, I totally did 2 different Friday Follow posts - I wouldn't want to offend any sticks in the mud who happen along accidentally.

Fawk you Perry. I'm not married to you any more. My groceries are not your groceries. Maybe you should think about bringing your own fucking food over to my house. It wouldn't kill you - you're a fucking architect and I'm a secretary for fucks sake - I promise you make more money than me.

Fawk you Amara and Mom. I made plans for my children and I'm not changing them just so that Amara can bless them with her presence.

Fawk you stupid movie that made no sense (AKA The Handmaid's Tale). You made me need to read the book version and it's pretty fucked up and disturbing when you're as neurotic as I am.

Fawk you Mr. My Favorite Author's Son. I'm thrilled that you took over your mom's series - really I am, because she's getting pretty old. But really do you have to make so many convoluted 3+ people sexual relationships?? I mean, yeah, it's kind of kinky, but if this is how you think, I believe you need to move over to romance.

Fawk you Dr. No Personality. You gave me an unlimited supply of vicodin for my headaches, but you won't give me anything for weightloss when I've gained 40 lbs in 7 months for no apparant reason AND you agree with me that I need to lose weight??

Letters of Intent and Follow Me Friday

Dear Fencing Instructors,
You can stop changing the day and time and location of Oliver's lessons anytime now.

Thank You,
Oliver's Mom




Dear Bean,
If we don't have any glasses in the kitchen, you should probably check the blackhole AKA your truck before asking anyone else.

Helpfully,
Your Loving Wife




Dear Co-Workers,
I am not your mother. And only one of you is putting out. So stop leaving nasty ass shit in the community refrigerator for me to clean up.

Sincerely,
Your Secretary



Dear Walgreens,
When I go to drop off a prescription at the drive-thru and you fail to provide me with something to put on top of it so that it doesn't fly away and then it does fly away, I am NOT in the mood to chase after it through the parking lot.

Irritably,
Your Customer



Dear Dr. No Personality,
I wouldn't have asked you to help me lose weight if I could lose it by myself. And while I may be a little vain, that doesn't make my reasoning irrational. If your entire family was overweight too, then you might be neurotic about your weight too.

Fattly,
Your Patient

2 Truths and a Lie

I need to say for the record, that I'm almost positive that I'm doing this wrong, but I love this idea, so I don't really care. (Though you are welcome to tell me how I fucked it all to hell if it makes you feel better. Just be prepared for me to ignore you.)

Welcome! Tell 2 truths and a lie and make us guess which is the lie.
You've played this game before, so why not join The Scoop on Poop and CA Girl every Thursday by:


1. Grabbing the handy little button on the sidebar
2. Posting your 2 truths and a lie
3. Link up
4. Reveal your lie the next week!
5. Visit others who link up and leave a comment guessing their lie.


It's that easy!! You know you want to play!! Link up today!!

Yeah, I know I already posted today, but this looked like too much fun to pass up..

1. With only one exception, every man I have ever dated has proposed marriage in some way or another.
2. Oliver is taking Tap classes in the Fall.
3. I once toured Europe playing in a band.
   
   
   

I Probably Would Have a Brilliant Name for This Post, but I'm Brain-dead

You may have noticed that I haven't done any original posts this week. Not to say that I copied them, because I didn't, but they were all directed in some way.

That's because I'm brain-dead, for no particular reason.

But I have had this post that doesn't really make any sense in mind for a while, so I thought I'd go ahead and run with it.

*************************************************************************************

Are you one of those women?? You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones who never have a wardrobe malfunction (of the Janet Jackson variety or of the I-really-thought-these-socks-matched variety) and whose hair is always exactly in place and whose make-up looks fantastic all day long.

I am not.

I frequently look like a zombie after lunch, with my eyeshadow melting downward to make the circles uder my eyes appear darker than they really are, and my mascara making little marks on my eyelids and my T-zone greasy and nasty.
I've tried reapplying before I eat, it doesn't help.

Often my hair does not cooperate with me and looks like I stuck a finger in an electrical socket.

And regularly I get to work only to look in the mirror in the womens' restroom and think "This outfit looked fine from my mirror..".


I don't get it. I'm probably the most girly of all of my close friends. I take time in the mornings to look presentable. So why is it that I don't??

And I really don't understand how those women do it.

Is it something you're born with??

Do you have to be taught??

Is it a confidence driven illusion or is it real??

I'm at a loss. Maybe one of you can enlighten me.

You Know How They Say..

You know how they say that the dog looks like the owner?? Yup. That's what we have here.

Way Back Wednesday

So this week on Way Back Wednesday..

My first job.

I did alot of babysitting when I was a teenager, but I only got paid about half of the time, so I don't really count that.

My first actual, not-paid-in-cash job was at T.G.I. Fridays as a hostess when I was 17.

For starters, I loved that job. I worked days because all the other little hostess girls were still in high school, and I had already graduated. Plus, I worked alone, which was nice, because most of the other little hostess girls were morons.

I had several waiters that I loved and I always gave them the best tables. And for a good 8 years, every time I went to Fridays I got really awesome service.

But the funniest story about my first job came when I was in training.

One of my high school teacher's sons worked there as a bartender, and that boy was hot. And coincidentally we knew each other fairly well, because my mother also taught at my high school, and his mother was my favorite teacher - so he offered to help me study for my tests.

So I went with him to another co-worker's house about 30 minutes away from home - I told my mother where I was going, who was going to be there and that I really wasn't sure what time I'd be home, and she gave her permission.

Midnight rolls around and Mr. Could-Have-Been starts getting flirty.

1am happens and he leans in for a kiss.

My fucking pager goes off. It's mom.

When I call her back, the conversation went something like this:

Mom: WHERE ARE YOU?!?!?!

Me: At Jane Co-Worker's house. Just like I said I'd be.

Mom: DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS?!?!?!

Me: Yes. It's about 1 in the morning. Why??

Mom: YOU COME HOME THIS INSTANT!!!!! YOU'RE GROUNDED!!!!!!!!

Needless to say, I did not get my kiss. And Mr. Could-Have-Been never tried again.

But the icing on the cake came a couple of months later when my mother asked me why me and Mr. Could-Have-Been never dated.

Post It Notes Tuesday

Internet Porn

My husband is a goofball. And most of the time I don't really mind, like when he makes funny faces for no reason, or tells jokes that nobody gets.

But, last weekend we went on a date and we were sitting there (not too terribly far from a family with a young daughter) and Bean starts telling me about this song he had stuck in his head at work - "Internet Porn".

The whole conversation was fine until he started singing it at the table..

Ya'll, Bean has a voice that carries.

And the worst part was, he knew all the words. The man who can't remember what day it is, or what my friends' names are. Every.single.last.word. At our early dinner before the pub turned into a pub.

The Not Prodigal Daughter

If you read my Fawk You Friday post, you know that my mother has been driving me a little nuts lately, here's a little bit of why:

I was in the hospital for 4 days and she came to visit once (maybe twice, I was a little drugged), and the whole time she gave me a guilt trip about how much Tallulah missed me. (Because I chose to be in the hospital, obviously)

She can't sit in an uncomfortable auditorium chair for 1 hour for my daughter, but she can drive 8 hours for my sister's daughter's birthday party.

She was telling me about her will and explained how she's leaving my sister most of the money, because I get the house. (Keep in mind this is the same house that I have been paying the mortgage on for almost 6 years)

She wants to have a mini-family reunion in September because my sister won't come to Christmas or Thanksgiving or Easter or 4th Saturdays (extended family dinner once a month).

All of these are on top of the day to day irritations, like not buying me toilet paper when I ask her to (she's in charge of groceries, I'm in charge of bills) or interfering with my parenting or making comments about how I do laundry (when I clearly remember as a child having to dig through the dirty laundry that covered half of a 2 car garage to find something to wear).

And none of these things would really bother me if a) it was only one of them or b) my sister wasn't such a raging bitch to her.

I'm feeling very much like the Not Prodigal Son. He stayed home and tended the sheep (or whatever the hell it was they had) and helped his father with the servants and did everything that was expected of a good son, and his dickwhistle brother gave Dad a big "fuck you" and went off on his own. But then when he came back Dad's all open arms and "I missed you so much!!!!!" and "let me throw a feast for you".

Did Dad ever throw a feast for the son who brought him his dinner and washed his dishes and paid his bills and ran his errands and nursed him when he was sick and picked up his perscriptions and cleaned his house and entertained his friends and actually gave a flying fuck about him??

No.

He rolled out the red carpet for the fucktard.

Yeah, that's my mom.

What can I do that will make Amara love me?

Amara wants something, so I'd better drop everything and run to her.

Amara is upset with me, I'll think I'll cry.

I'm getting fed-up with this shit. Amara's not going to be the one wiping Mom's ass when she's old and decrepit. In fact, as soon as she turns senile and forgets her number, my money's on Amara never calling her again.

And I get that you love your children equally, but this is not equal, this is "I don't need to take special care of my relationship with Jenn, because she'll always be there" - and it's fucked up.

Fawk You Friday & Fucked Up Friday Follow!!

I'm really excited, because this is the first Fawk You Friday I get to really participate in, and I've been trying for almost a month now (fawk you life!!). Plus I found Fuck You Friday, and we all know I have NO problem actually saying "fuck", so it sounded pretty fantastic too.

What a week, my list could really be endless, but I'll keep it short and sassy for you.

• Fawk You to my beautiful and wonderful children. My house is rat infested because ya'll had to have those stupid rat dogs and now that you have them, you think I'm going to be cleaning up their shit?!?! Think again.
• Fawk You to my boss who says the same exact thing and tells the same exact stories day after fawking day. You have an office!! Why don't you go there?!?!
• Fawk You to Bean's Food Poisoning. I lost two perfect-will-never-come-back-to-me nights because of you.
• Fawk You to my loving mother. When you said you would do the grocery shopping now that you're retired, I kind of thought you'd get the shit that we need. And when I tell you that I have gained 40 lbs in 6 months, egg rolls, little pizzas, quesadillas and klondike bars do not fall into that category. Especially when you did not buy a single leafy vegetable or any meat or milk or bread or anything really that will not go directly to my ass.

I feel better now. Don't you??

* I also need to add a big fawk you to my phone who is not letting me comment on anyone's blog today. WTF?!?!

The Voices in My Head

I've mentioned before how I like to talk to myself..

Well, recently, Bean's been working alot, and I've been feeling chatty, so I've been talking to myself enough to give my voices names*.

It's sad, but true.

So far there are only two - Joe and Bonnie.

Joe is the kindof guy who has a girl for a best friend. In fact, his voice sounds oddly like my best friend, Superman. He tells me to stop being girly and analyzes all of Bean's actions when I need him to. He's awesome, and I don't really mind sharing noggin' space with him, expecially since Superman's all busy being a newlywed and stuff.

But Bonnie is annoying as fuck. That girl whines about everything!! She bitches when Bean hasn't texted us recently and she cries hysterically when he doesn't call us twice from work.
She's constantly worried that Bean's going to leave us. She tries to find meaning out of the tiniest little comments. And she's forever moaning about our weight.
The bitch needs therapy, or some cheese or both.


It's a good thing Joe's there to tell her to shut the fuck up.

So the other night I was bitching telling Bean how I missed him while he was at work because I didn't have anyone to talk to.

Me: But I have shit I NEED to say!!

Bean: Is everything ok?

Me: Oh yeah.

Bean: Then why can't it wait until tomorrow?

Me: Because I want to talk. It's ok, I'll just tell Joe.

Bean:??

Me: Nevermind.

I did eventually tell him about Joe, and he didn't really comment (I'm not really sure why), probably because it was early, and I'm a little evil delicate in the mornings.

But we did touch on it another day.

Me: I'm a good wife.

Bean: You had doubts?!?

Me: Not really, but Joe just confirmed it.

Bean: You love Joe more than me.

Sounds like Bonnie has another victim..


*No worries. We don't actually have split personality disorder. We think.

Also, don't forget Fawk You Friday tomorrow.. I finally get to play!!

I'm Like a Rock Star!!

Aunt Crazy gave me TWO awards!!
If you don't read Aunt Crazy, you really should and I'm feeling all kind of like a rock star because she even knows I exist, because she has a crap-ton of followers and she's just AWESOME!!

Thank you Aunt Crazy!!

The first award is the Plastic Joy Award. And I have to list 5 people I would screw for the fun of it and pass it along to people.



Hmmmmm..

There's Gerard Butler, who I have been in love with since "Phantom of the Opera" -yes, ladies, he's the phantom..



And my future ex-husband, Colin Firth.. Oh yes, Mr. Darcy!!



Then there's Hugh Jackman, who incidentally can also sing.. (and could probably lift my fat ass up by his pinky with that gorgeous body)



And Johnny Depp who would never ever give me funny looks when I say weird shit, because really, he has no room to talk..



And last, but not least, Orlando Bloom, who is just fucking beautiful.



So, because I'm really curious about these two ladies lists, I'll pass this award along to:

Miley at Musings of a Confused Woman
Miss Nikki at My Cyber House Rules

The other award is the Naughty or Nice Award.



The rules for this one are: answer the questions then pick people to pass the award along to.

1. What is the silliest prank you ever played on someone? Hmmm.. this is actually kinda hard because I'm not really a prankster.. But I have convinced people that I was my own twin before.

2. If you could take a trip anywhere out of the country where would you go? Why? Oooh.. London, or just England in general really. I want to see all the historical stuff, because I am actually that big of a nerd.

3. Who plays the most influential role in your life? Probably Bean or maybe my cousin, Connie.

4. Are you ok with your significant other being friends with an ex? Yes, and he is. I don't really get the whole insane jealousy thing, it irritates me.

5. Favorite candle scent? Dreamsicles

6. Next movie you're excited about seeing? Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - November, baby!!

7. You must ban one word from the dictionary and all usage, to be no longer uttered or written. What word do you ban? Vagina. Really - who decided that the name for female parts should be called a word that sounds so gross.

8. Do you have any relatives in jail? Yes, sadly. But they're like 3rd or 4th cousins - I'm not really clear on that whole degree of cousins thing.

9. What crazy fads were popular when you were a teenager. Socks pulled all the way up your calf, with short/skirts. And, embarrassingly, the whole saggy pants thing started when I was a teenager..

10. Have you ever been mentioned in a newspaper or on TV? I don't think so. At least not a real newspaper, I was one of the editors of my high school and college papers.

This one I'm passing on to Christy at I'm Just Sayin' because she's both Naughty and Nice.

100 and Still Blogging

Wow.. 100 posts. That's crazy. Normally I have the attention span of two year old with a giant pixie stick. So having stuck with something this long and still be enthralled is a huge accomplishment for me.

I started this blog just after Bean and I got married and I finally had positive things to say.
I wanted to be able to let loose myself - the crazy person that I normally edit from my family who really thinks that normal is the only way to go.

Along the way you found out why I'm crazy.

You shared my work place troubles.

There were courtside seats to me and Bean's fights.

And bedside seats to some of my migraines.

You've laughed at my insecurities.

And you've heard about my television watching tastes.

I've ranted and I've been neurotic.

I've been hysterical and I've been sentimental.

And I'm having a blast.

Thanks guys, for reading and for commenting and for just being.

My Son is So Cool and Also Possibly Gay

I have realized recently that I blog much more about Oliver than Tallulah. I'd like to state for the record that it's absolutely NOT because Oliver is my favorite. I don't think that I have a favorite, really.

(Though, I'm also fairly certain that's what most parents who do have a favorite tell themselves)

It's just that Tallulah is nothing like me.

Yes, she's girly, and loves music and sings most of the time and she's a drama queen high strung. And all of those things are like me. But she's just very normal.
Yes, she's very smart and artistic and special and she can be insanely sweet and helpful (when it gets her something she wants). But she's happy in the box. It's where she chooses to be.

So, incidentally, she doesn't really make for interesting blogging.

Oliver, on the other hand..

Has tried to hatch dragon eggs in the backyard.

Wants to be a leprechaun for Halloween.

Is convinced that he will be getting a letter from Hogwarts next summer, since obviously he takes after me and not his Squib father, Alien.

Has picked out the song for my funeral - "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" - and told me.

Randomly bursts into song.

He's like me, only WAY weirder cooler.

This weekend he was my date for "Wicked" after Bean got sick.

I told him that I had the cutest date there.

Yes, I know. It's okay, Mommy, I'll make you look good.

We discussed his plans for the series of books he's planning on writing.

He held a not sarcatic conversation with a man who set off the smoke detectors about fashion and music and coke (the soda kind, not the illegal drug kind), using phrases like true that.

And he loved the musical.

Barbituates, Bean and Why I'm Sleeping on the Couch Tonight

**DISCLAIMER**
This is actually kind of a gross posting now that I've read through it. So if you don't want to know entirely too much about Bean's bodily functions, you might want to wait until tomorrow**

There's actually at least two reasons I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight - the first is for blogging about this, but you know, Bean didn't specifically tell me not to, so that's just like permission, right??

And the second reason will come later.

Patience my friends.

So, our wonderful date weekend was interrupted (very rudely) by food poisoning (or a stomach bug, or a really convincing psychosematic illness* - but whatever it is, it's not pleasant).

Yup, that's right, in the middle of the night Saturday, Bean started with the vomiting and all that goes along with a stomach something.

He started to feel better on Sunday morning, so we thought that maybe he'd be ok for "Wicked", but then, like clockwork, a few minutes after checkout time, he got even worse.

Now, I'm one of those people that starts gagging the minute I hear someone else doing the same, so being in a hotel room where the other-room-where-I-can't-hear-you options are slim was not pleasant.

I finally got him to let me take him home about 3 hours later, but he was being pretty insistant that I not only go to "Wicked" but that I also use the hotel room and since really there was nothing I could do for him, I did.

I took Oliver and we had a really good time, but that's another post.

Today I went to work and Bean called and asked me to get his prescriptions. No problem.

Yeah, right.

Did ya'll know that they card you now at the pharmacy whenever you get the good drugs?

I found this out when I got out of the hospital and tried to go pick up my vicodin. I had just gotten out of the hospital and Mom wasn't being very motherly and was procrastinating over getting my drugs, so being the passive-agressive bitch that I am, I showed her and went myself.

So I drove my sore, cut up, seriously bloated ass to the pharmacy really wishing that I was picking up something stronger than vicodin and the bitch carded me.

I was still wearing a hospital bracelet and the bitch carded me.

I had to hobble my sore, cut up, seriously bloated and peeved self out to the car and dig through Bean's bag to find my wallet to get my drugs.

Not cool.

Anyway, today I went to get Bean's prescriptions and the same bitch was there and carded me again.

So I'm thinking - Is she doing this because she's a power-hungry bitch and gets off on inconveniencing people or did Bean get some good drugs??

Turns out he got some barbituates.

So if you're anything like me, you're thinking these are sleeping pills, or pain pills maybe.

Nope.

They're anti-gas pills.

Because he has trapped gas.

He just took the pills, and that would be why I will be sleeping on the couch tonight. Because Bean is sometimes a stinky guy without barbituates. With them?? Yeah, I don't imagine it will be pleasant.


*For the record, I don't really think that Bean has a psychosematic illness. I'm not quite that girly. But there is a little voice in my head (we'll call her Bonnie) who likes to whisper things to me about how he happened to get sick in the middle of our romantic weekend.

Noone Mourns the Wicked

This weekend is date weekend. I know most people (especially divorced parents) go to the movies/dinner/bars and then go home on date nights, but there's nothing that kills the mood more than having a hot date with your husband and then going home where you ex-husband is - trust me. So Bean and I like to get a hotel about once a month and spend the weekend alone.

Bean got me "Wicked" tickets for my birthday in June and we're going tonight. I'm so excited.

We got rooms at this really nice hotel downtown and are spending the weekend playing around here. We even went to The Red Lion Pub that we saw on the Food Network (because that's pretty much the only channel Bean watches) - I LOVED it, Bean wasn't very impressed - oh well..

But if you even kindof like musicals you must at least listen to the soundtrack its got some awesome lines like "too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost. Well if that's love it comes at much too high a cost." I love it, but this is my first time actually seeing it.

I'm beyond thrilled.

Vacation Part 6 - Bean’s Bossy and a Cigarette Thief

By the time we got home from the airport, I was really starting to contemplate whether childbirth was worse than the pain I was experiencing.

It was a really weird pain – kind of like I was seriously hungry.

I don’t really like hospitals, and thought that laying in my bed with a heating pad was the best idea ever, but Bean started making threats like – “If you don’t feel better soon, I’m taking you to the Emergency Room”.

That sounds like fun, right??

Anyway – I got to sleep with my heating pad. But in the morning, I did NOT feel like going to work.

So Bean got all bossy and made me go to the ER.

We were there for hours. Not in the waiting room – we got into an room right away, but it took most of the day where I was tortured tested before I got admitted.

They weren’t really sure what the deal was, because I have an IUD and you know, since it’s there obviously it could be a problem.

I spent 2 days laying in a bed waiting for a gynecologist to come in and consult because of that.

Though I did get A LOT of action while in the hospital. Three different people felt me up, and not one of them was my husband. I'm such a hussy.

The real problem was that I brought cigarettes, and the nurse said they couldn’t let me go smoke because it’s a non-smoking campus.

Whatever. As soon as they’d let me up to walk, I was finding somewhere to smoke.

Except that Bean took my fucking cigarettes with him to work.

So the next day I made him leave me some, and I got to smoke.

But on the third day he took my fucking lighter!!

Really?? Once, is an accident. Twice is not. I’m taking notes buddy. Just remember that you’re having surgery in January. Maybe you’re smokes will magically disappear.

Vacation Part 5 - Back to Texas and Recap

We had a moderately uneventful flight home on Monday.

Except that on the first death-plane by some gift of the aviation gods, I was able to fall asleep, until halfway to Dallas a flight attendant, leaned down next to Bean’s head and yelled:

Do you want a drink, sir?!?

W.T.F.?!?! Do you think that two people who are asleep with drinks in the seat pocket in front of them want a drink?!?!

I wanted to kill her. And I did not get back to sleep.

And then there was the two hour layover where I got to contemplate the next death-plane ride with nothing in particular to do.

Fun.

I did, however, get alcohol and that was nice.

To recap:

Planes = Bad

Family = Good

Friends = Fantastic

More than a 4 day stay = Not happening. Ever.

Vacation Part 4 - Family Bash and No Beating up the Psuedo-cousins

On July 4th there was a big ole bash at Mom & Dad Bean’s. I was starting to feel bad (because I had appendicitis – I’ll tell you later), but it was alright.

Apparently you can have fireworks where they live so there was a whole lot of that going on. But there was also an incident.

My sister-in-law, Sophia, had bought a bunch of fireworks for her son, Grant. And she was going to make him share but obviously, he wanted to be able to shoot some of them off himself. But Aunt Godmother’s boyfriend’s son and his wife “claimed” Grant’s fireworks.

Ya’ll, Sophia is about the sweetest person on the face of the planet. So she didn’t say a word. Nothing. She smiled and calmed Grant while he cried and said nothing.

I was PISSED and all for marching over there and telling them that they were welcome to share Grant’s fireworks, but they were not calling dibs on $100 worth of fireworks that they DID NOT BUY.

Of course I didn’t say anything.

But since everyone was telling me that I had to bring the kids for next years’ bash I told Bean in no uncertain terms that no one was going to treat MY kids that way and get a smile and no comment.

And the kicker for me – was when they left & made Grant give them high fives before they would leave.

I wanted to tell them where they could shove their high fives.

Vacation Part 3 - Going A-Visiting or Just Shoot Me Now

So we made it to Switzerland Colorado and the visiting was on.

Most of Bean’s friends and family are awesome, and I love them and was totally ok with going on the rounds to see everyone. Except that Bean wanted to visit Cousin Firefighter.

Now, I like Cousin Firefighter, but Mrs. Firefighter is another story entirely.

When she talks, she sounds like a bitchy five year old.

And I’m not really sure how she uses her left hand, since her rock is so big she shouldn’t be able to lift it – but she does, and also manages to flash it to great effect.

They live in a 9 bedroom house that’s about 3 times the size of my house (and my house is pretty big) and loves nothing more than to show it off with a moderately pitying expression because obviously you couldn’t afford such a wonderful home.

Two hours. That’s how long we spent there. Two fucking hours of listening to how perfect her kids are and how lovely the new house is and how hard it is for her to get motivated to do anything and on and on and on.

I wanted to either hit her or shoot myself. By the end of the evening I had no preference.

Vacation Part 2 - A Bottle of Jack and a Fro

So now we’ve gotten the bags and ourselves to the airport.

And we were all kinds of delayed. We changed flights like 3 times and landed in Dallas for our connection to Colorado Springs at the same time the connection was supposed to be leaving. So we ran.

That probably wouldn’t have been a problem for most people, but I’m not particularly athletically inclined, and Bean has trouble regular walking. So we hurt and couldn’t breathe.

Fortunately, they served alcohol on that flight.

I felt much better after I got a bottle of Jack Daniels in me.

Then we got to Colorado, but our bags did not.

I’m not really a materialistic person, but I NEEDED the contents of those bags.

For starters, I had no toiletries or underwear. Obviously, I could borrow soap & shampoo and stuff from Mom Bean, but no underwear meant no shower. Yuck. Plus, my Chi (straightening iron for those of you with straight hair) was in the bags, and my hair fros if I don’t straighten it (and I mean as in “really fros”, not just “doesn’t look exactly perfect”). So, no hair washing.

Have I ever mentioned that I'm a little insane about personal hygeine?? I'm that girl standing in the women's restroom singing the ABCs while I soap my hands and using a paper towel to turn off the faucet and open the door. I shower everyday without fail - sometimes twice a day. I shave my legs and my pits everyday and I feel disgusting if I don't. I cannot sleep dirty.

But even though my lack of a shower was VERY upsetting, probably the worst thing of all – the necklace that Bean bought me was in the bags. I love that necklace, it may be my most prized possession. I was not pleased.

We went to Walmart the next morning for underwear and toiletries. And I plotted the demise of the baggage people if my necklace and Chi were not returned to me.

They finally found our bags that evening and brought them over and all was well, except that I’d used one of Mom Bean’s extra razors(new - I'm WAY too anal for a borrowed and used razor), and I don’t know how that woman uses those – I felt like I had not only taken the hair off my legs, but the skin as well.

Needless to say – on the way home I crammed ALL the important things into the carryons. I wasn’t risking my crap again.

Vacation Part 1 - My InHuman Self Control

Ugh..

Well, since I’ve last been diligent with my blogging, I’ve been very busy. I’ll break it down into manageable portions for you, because it’s kind of a long story.

First of course was the trip to Switzerland Colorado.

Obviously, I didn’t die.

But the flights to and fro and all things baggage related were horrendous. We’ll start with the nightmare of just getting the bags to the airport.


Bean picked me up from work, and on the way to the airport, I got a call from Perry (ex-husband) screaming at me asking me where his bags for the weekend were.

How the fuck am I supposed to know?? I was at work all day. Why don’t you look up your ass??

No, I didn’t say that. I told him I didn’t know, and maybe he should look around.
He called back when were looking for parking and told me he thought we had his bags. I turned around and he was right.

Here’s where my superb self-control started to kick in.

Not once did I call Bean an idiot for grabbing the wrong bags. Even though I specifically told him that he had a black suitcase and Perry has a massive black duffel bag and Bean carries his little carryon bag with him to work every day. So you’d think that he would know that it’s not Perry’s laptop case.

I also did not call Perry a fucktard for putting his bags down right next to Bean’s when he knew that we were leaving for the airport that afternoon or for waiting to call until we were almost to the airport instead of right after Bean left the house.


So we turned around and went home for the bag exchange. And I shit you not, when I asked Perry to get things together for the swap, he actually asked me:


Does this suitcase need to be zipped?


And people wonder why I divorced the dickwhistle.

Getting to Know You

I'm not quite up to speed yet, and really, laying on my ass on the couch watching the second season of "Veronica Mars" doesn't make for interesting blogging, so I thought I'd do a "Getting to Know You" thing..

1. What time did you get up this morning? 9:30ish
2. Diamonds or pearls? If I have to pick?? Then pearls
3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? the newest Shrek, I think.
4. What is your favorite TV show? House
5. What do you usually have for breakfast? Coffee
6. What is your middle name? Christine
7. What food do you dislike? Hot dogs.
8. What is your favorite CD at moment? The Wicked soundtrack
9. What kind of car do you drive? PT Cruiser baby
10. Favorite sandwich? Turkey
11. What characteristic do you despise? conceit, especially when it's unwarranted.
12. Favorite item of clothing? Jeans
13. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? For me - England, for the family - Disneyworld
14. Favorite brand of clothing? umm?? American Eagle??
15. Where would you retire to? Somewhere close to my kids.
16. Favorite sport to watch? Baseball - it's the only one I really understand.
17. When is your birthday? June 12th
18. Are you a morning person or a night person? Night, definately.
19. What is your shoe size? 9
20. Pets? 1 dauschund, 1 goldendoodle, 1 cat, 1 turtle, 2 kids, 1 husband and a mother.
21. Any new and exciting news you 'd like to share? nothing that anyone other than Miss Nikki would care to hear.
22. What did you want to be when you were little? The President
23. How are you today? fanfreakintastic
24. What is your favorite candy? Reese's Pieces
25. What is your favorite flower? Either yellow roses or any flavor tulip
26. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to? Halloween
27. What are you listening to now? Random crashes coming from Tallulah's room
28. What was the last thing you ate? pizza
29. Do you wish on stars? absolutely
30. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? turquoise
31. How is the weather right now? Hot.
32. The first person you spoke to on the phone today: noone so far, but I texted Ophalia.
33. Favorite soft drink? Diet Coke.
34. Favorite restaurant? Pappasitos
35. Real hair color? dark brown
36. What was your favorite toy as a child? A little babydoll that I worked very hard to get. I named her Cecilie
37. Summer or winter? Texas winter
38. Hugs or kisses? If we're talking from Bean - kisses everyone else - hugs
39. Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate all the way!!
40. Coffee or tea? In the morning, Coffee, the rest of the day, Tea.
41. When was the last time you cried? Last week, I was pissed!!
42. What is under your bed? There's no telling..
43. What did you do last night? Watched Season 2 of "Veronica Mars"
44. What are you afraid of ? ooh.. that's a really long list, that we don't have time for.
45. Salty or sweet? depends
46. How many keys on your key ring? alot
47. How many years at your current job? 3
48. Favorite day of the week? Thursday
49. How many towns have you lived in? 4
50. Do you make friends easily? Usually

I'm Back Again, Sortof

So I'm out of the hospital and home and back a little, but still not totally up to speed..
And all I've got to say about the whole hospital experience is, Ugh.

For starters, it took them 4 days to decide to take out my appendix, because I have an IUD and you know, since it's there it could definately be a problem. So I had to wait 2 days for a consult with an Ob/Gyn.

I got more action in the hospital than I did on my entire vacation - first from the 12 year old ER doctor, then from the itty bitty radiology tech and then from the gynecologist. Lovely.

Third, I had to search high and low in places where the little IV stand thingy didn't want to go in order to find the smoking area.

And last, but not least, the minute Mommy's home from the hospital, Mommy's home, and cleanup duties and puny daughter duties no longer fall into anyone else's job description.
Thank God for Miley coming to pick up Tallulah and her bitchy self so that Mommy didn't pull a stitch.

Anyway, I got a couple of a amusing pictures that I'll post in a couple of days. Thanks for all your well wishes.

vacation from my vacation

So, I'm all back from Colorado and whatnot. But I guess because I didn't die on the multiple planes, that means that I should have a medical emergency.

I'm in the hospital with appendicitis.

And I haven't eaten in something like 20 hours.

And the nurse is mad at me because I didn't remember the last time I pooped. (Apparantly you're supposed to write it down IN CASE of any abdominal pain)

And my roommate has a large family that are all visiting at the same time and babbling LOUDLY in Spanish.

And I NEED a fucking cigarette. BAD. I may kill a few nurses soon.

I'm Baaaack!!

You didn't miss me at all did you??

I'll give you a real post later.. I just wanted to say I missed my blog and my bloggy friends so much!!

Might as Well Face it I’m Addicted to Blog

Bean started telling me last week that I was getting addicted to blogging, and I’m sorry to say that he may be right..

So being the anal person that I am, I made a checklist.

You might be addicted to blogging if:

You try to call people by their blog pseudonyms.

You cannot go to the bathroom without your phone because someone might comment while you’re gone.

You keep a notebook handy at all times in case someone supplies you with blog fodder.

You read your comments during sex.*

Your in-laws, who are remarkably unobservant know there’s something up having to do with a blog.

Your husband makes statements like “do NOT blog about this”.


*I have not actually done this one, and I’m pretty sure that Bean would draw the line there, or at least I hope he would.

Serious Sunday - Independance Day

I'm not a huge patriotic person, and as I said earlier, I'm not really the fireworks-watching-flag-waving type (though I think Bean means to change that)..

But I am happy to be an American. And I am proud to married to a veteran. And I do think that celebrating our independance is important, whether it's with fireworks or reflectively.

I know there are a shit-ton of people who hate Americans, and that's ok, we're not always very likable.

I'm just really glad that I live somewhere that it's ok for me to hate my President (and I'm not saying that I do or don't - just that I could) and say something about it. I'm happy that I can bitch and be bitched at about religion. And I'm fucking thrilled that I get a vote in who leads my country and that it's not illegal for me to choose to exercise that right.

I love being an American.

Happy Independance Day.

Happy Birthday, Cara!!

I've never been really huge on July 4th, it was my dad's birthday, and as I've said before, he was kind of a jackass.

We never really did anything for it, and I guess that's just my habit now..

But -

Today is also my friend Cara's birthday. She's amazing and is going to be a new mommy in October.

So happy birthday, Cara!!

Fawk You Friday from Switzerland

No, I'm not really in Switzerland, I'm in Colorado.. It's a long story..

I keep on reading how everyone's offended by "Fawk You Friday", which of course made me want to participate only I can't really, because I'm pretty sure Bean would be upset if I blew off his parents in favor of blogging. But here's the link for all of you who wanted it, and I promise I will be reading as much as I can get away with and next week I will be joining in for real!!

Who do you want to say "Fawk You!!" to this week??

Happy Friday!!

Flying and Dying and a Severe Lack of Valium

So about that trip this weekend.. I’m excited, except that I hate flying, and I forgot to get a prescription for Valium from my doctor. And that would all be okay, except that Bean hates flying too.

I’m really nervous, because this could be a defining moment in our marriage.

See, there have been an assload of times when I was terrified of something, like any time we’ve ever driven over a bridge or when we drove to Colorado.
But every time I’ve been terrified, Bean wasn’t, because he’s all strong & stoic and stuff. So he was able to comfort me, and calm me down, and tell me that we weren’t going to die.

This time, he’s going to be uncomfortable too. I’m sure he’ll still be outwardly stoic, but will he be able to calm my crazy ass down??

Will he be able to tell me that we’re not going to die when he really thinks that we are going to die??

What the hell is my reaction going to be if he does tell me the truth - that we’re going to die??



P.S. - I've left all of my passwords where Miley can find them, so if when I die on the plane, she can post my eulogy.