Brace Yourself, Blume

What you will see tomorrow is just for you, mr. blume.
It's a rare sighting. Like a supernova. Or something else really rare.
It may never happen again, so enjoy it.

No spoilers from those of you who already know.

Blame the Victim?

As many of you know, last Tuesday (December 23rd) I was rear ended by some jackass who was driving too fast for road conditions. Since then, we've been trying to work something out to get our car fixed, yet everyone involved seems to want to give us the run around.

The police office who handled the incident told me I only needed the case number and that if I gave it to my insurance company that they would contact his insurance company and it would all be handled.

My insurance company says that they will fix my car if I pay the $1000 deductible, otherwise I'm on my own.

The auto body shop that has my car says they need the insurance information from the guy who hit me before they can do anything.

The Verona Area Police Department (which I'm now convinced only hires morons) says that they can't give me that information because it's not an open case and hasn't been processed by some Lieutenant and he's behind because of the holidays... blah, blah, blah.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Did I ask to be rear ended? I don't see how this situation is in anyway my fucking fault and yet this entire situation has been more hassle then last year when I got into an accident that supposedly was my fault.

(I say supposedly because I was knocked unconscious and have no memory of the event)

I hate this. I need my damn car fixed. My employer is spread out over multiple buildings and there is no way I'm going to be able to go without a car for long. No one seems in a hurry to help me though. I guess that's what you get for driving home.

I'm so angry right now I can't even see straight. I. Hate. This.

Cute?

Now that I'm back from the in-laws, I had planned on writing an adorable blog on all the quirky stuff they do up there. And let me tell you, some of the people we know up there bring quirky to a whole new level I never even imagined existed until I met them.

However, currently my piece-o-shit Dell laptop will only work if the husband and I hold manually hold the power cable at an awkward angle, tap it three times with the first blooms of a cherry blossom tree underneath a harvest moon. So, I scrapped it to whine instead.

Tomorrow we're ordering a new computer, and dude, it ain't gonna be a Dell. We're going to go with a Mac this time in the hopes that a non-Windows based computer might not be the complete pieces of shit that our last 3 computers have been (all Dells, I might add).

The only problem is how to get all the old data off the old computer. It gets kind of crampy to continue to hold the power cord at an awkward angle. We'll see if we can manage it long enough for me to transfer our stuff, possibly to an online data storage center.

Anybody use any that they would recommend? Any that come uber-cheap? Anybody have a Dell laptop battery I can borrow to avoid angry hand cramps?

Have I ever mentioned that I hate Dell?

A Better Version of Myself

I'm really trying to be a better version of myself this morning. 

What I want to do, what I would love to do, is write a ranting and raving blog full of the kind of expletives that would make your grandmother blush. I got off the phone this morning with the most (insert mean, angry, expletive filled tirade here) customer service agent at State Farm. 

She was giving me completely contradictory information to everything we were told yesterday, all in that fake, perky fucking tone. (Sorry, one slipped).

The thing that she said that annoyed me the most?

"Why would you listen to a police officer on how to file a claim?"

Well, the thing is, he is a patrol officer. This is kind of what he does. He has probably handled countless accidents over the years, plus, you know, he's a cop. Are you really going to sit there with your perky fucking tone (oops, again) and judge me for not getting the other guy's insurance information myself when I was still all shaken up from being in a car accident? Really? I'm the idiot for listening to the cop? Maybe, and thanks so much for pointing it out to me. 

Deep breaths. 

Deep breaths. 

In the spirit of Christmas, I am not writing the blog I want to write. I'm going to keep all the anger and vitriol all bottled up inside me. I'm writing a toned down version instead with only a few slip-ups curses that are relatively tame. 

I don't want to be the kind of person filled with anger and vitriol, so I'm not going to let the most annoying bitch (oh, well...) control me. I'm going to let this go, for the moment. A warning to Rob Fox, my insurance agent (not who I talked to this morning), you had better step up, or I'm going to be looking for a new insurance company in the very near future. 

Merry Christmas

Tomorrow, the husband and I leave for his parent's house. There, I will spend 4 painful days disconnected from the world at large. 

So, since I won't be around on the day of, I want to pre-wish you a Merry Christmas. 

Much, much love to you and yours. 

Scary!

Today, I was rear ended on highway 151 by some jerk who was driving too fast and following too close. My rear window was shattered and my bumper was crushed like a tin can. 

I'm okay. 

The cop asked me if I was okay at least four times. By the end, I wanted to say, "Dude, I was just in a car accident. Is okay relative? Then, for just being in a car accident, I'm okay."

The worst part?

The guy honked seconds before he hit me. Just long enough, so that I had time to look into my rear view mirror and watch him hit me. That's the part that keeps playing over and over in my head. 

Honk, glance... CRASH!

Hopefully all of you have had a better day than I did. Be safe out there and remember not to follow too closely or you may end up being the jerk in the rear view mirror. 

Only one more day...

Only one more day of work and then I'm on vacation until the new year. Thank goodness!!

I was going crazy at work all day today. I was barely able to sit still or concentrate on anything. We had a deadline last Thursday and I'm completely uninterested in starting to work on something new. To my credit, I got little to nothing done today. 

I don't know why I'm so excited to be on vacation either. It must be the total euphoria of not having to be at work. I can tell you this, it's not because we have some plans that I'm looking forward to this week. 

Wednesday, we're driving up to stay with the husband's family through Saturday. I like the in-laws for the most part, but here's the thing, visiting them is boring. It's watching paint dry boring. I usually bring four or five books and make it through all of them while I'm there. I think his family must think I'm some sort of crazy bookworm because I'm constantly reading when I'm up there. 

For the most part, there's NOTHING else to do. 

Plus, there is Country Roads.

I hate Country Roads, with a passion. Country Roads is the local diner where the husband's parents live. His parent's LOVE that place. We usually eat up there at least twice when we visit. 

What's so bad about this local diner, you ask?

It's not the food. While nothing to write home about, it's not the worst stuff I've ever had either. 

It's not the atmosphere. CR is clean and well-lit. 

It's the fact that the husband's parents are completely content to sit around CR and gossip with all the locals for HOURS! I'm sorry, but breakfast is not a 3 hour event! 

The last few times we've been up to visit, I've made the husband drive separate so we can leave. I love his parents, but sometimes enough is too much. 

Yet, I'm still completely jazzed to be done with work after tomorrow. Doesn't say a lot for my job at the moment, does it?

Consequences

After yesterday's adventure in snow shoveling, my back is helluva sore today. I had to skip no less than 5 weight lifting machines today because they involved (in any sort of minor way) back muscles. 

Usually, I lift at the gym 3 times per week.

You would think that those muscles I've spent the last year and a half building up would be good for something. But, no. I'm pretty sure they're just for show.

ETA: Just so you know, according to blogger spell check I spelled "helluva" correctly, which made me curious, so I checked dictionary.com.

Helluva

-adjective, adverb

hell of a, Compare heck

It's a real word. Who fucking knew?

For the Record: Part II

I don't like to brag (who am I kidding, I love to brag), but sometimes I am an awesome wife. Not very often, but it has been known to happen. 

Last night, it snowed. A lot.

I didn't have to go to work today, so when I got up I decided to do something about the snow situation in our driveway. I tried to use the snow blower, but the husband can be kind of an ass sometimes and refused to show me how to do it the one time I asked. I tried to figure it out on my own, but there are a lot of buttons and switches on the snow blower. I pressed a few buttons, flipped a few switches, but I didn't know what the hell I was doing so I gave up when I didn't have any immediate successes. 

So, I got out the shovel to work on it the old-fashioned way. I'm going to be honest, I didn't initially plan to shovel the entire driveway. I planned on shoveling out the end of the driveway and the high parts, so I could get the Prius in and out of the garage. But, I got started with the end of the driveway and I was having... um, fun? No, fun is not the right word, but I was making some good progress, so I decided to continue until I got sick of it. 

While I was working, one of my neighbors (who is totally awesome, by the by) saw me working by hand and came over to help out with his snow blower. So, he finished snow blowing my driveway and I shoveled off our front walkway, front porch and then worked on making a path for the dogs from the deck in the back of our house. 

(Yes, the dogs get a path. Milo stands about 6 inches off the ground. If we don't shovel him a path, he would probably just sink down and get stuck.)

So, when the husband came home, there was no work required. It had already been done by my neighbor and me. 

What did he have to say to this miracle of the ages? 

The husband: "When I shovel off the deck, usually I make the path a little bigger."

Totally worth it?

What the hell are you doing?

I went to the gym tonight. Big surprise, right?

I was upstairs on the elliptical when some kid came up to run on one of the treadmills. 

Oh. My. Lord!

I have never heard anybody run so loudly in my life.

Imagine someone banging on a piece of sheet metal with a hammer. 

Well, that would be quieter than this kid running on the treadmill!

I'm not kidding. The sound echoed throughout the whole fitness center. 

The husband ended up on the elliptical next to me (which almost never happens). We caught each other's eye a few minutes into this kid's run and I could barely keep a straight face. I kept giggling at random intervals, whenever listening to the kid run got to be too much. 

I watched him out of the corner of my eye for awhile, trying to figure out how exactly he was able to get it to make so much noise. I have no idea what the hell he was doing. 

Lunch

Imagine if you will, a cold, cold, cold Wisconsin morning.

You go to the cupboard to choose something to bring for lunch... ah, there is that cup of beef and barley stew you could bring with you. You've never had it before, but it sounds really good on such a cold day.

You are working very hard and as a result you have to eat a late lunch. So, you are quite hungry when you manage to get your lunch to the microwave, which you begin to heat, following the directions exactly. Exactly.

Remove plastic lid. Remove metal lid. Replace plastic lid, heat for 1 minute. Remove plastic lid, stir. Without lid, continue to heat for 30 to 45 seconds.

Only... wait! 15 seconds into "continue to heat for 30 to 45 seconds" your soup explodes and tips over in the microwave.

Soup. Is. Everywhere.

You spend the next ten minutes with some douche bag watching as you clean out the microwave. You clean out the microwave the best you can with extremely limited supplies. You have beef and barley stew all over your fucking hands, but sadly, very little left in your cup of soup. You "enjoy" the soup you managed to salvage which is now cold, because you are terrified to throw it back in the microwave.

I don't have to imagine it. I lived it. You now have a recap of the last 15 minutes of my life. Boooooooooo!

No lunch + It's snowing outside = The Universe hates me today

Materialism?

Christmas, according to my television, is all about presents and rampant consumerism. 

A lot of people seem to get caught up in this holiday for all the wrong reasons. And by all the wrong reasons, I don't really mean the presents. Like most things in life, it's not the thing itself, it's the idea behind the thing that usually gets off course. 

I was reading a blog this morning and I couldn't help but think, really that is what's wrong with Christmas. Kids making their mother buy back the gift cards she got for them? Are you kidding me? 

Maybe it's just me. For me, gift giving is an act of love. The gift itself isn't the point. It's the fact that I spent time, effort and money on you. (The money being the least important component.) I thought about you. I thought about what you like. I thought about what you would like. I thought about how I feel about you and what you mean to me. 

When I get a gift from you, I hope that you've done the same. 

When I talk to people about this holiday, so many people are just focused on getting everyone on their lists checked off. I know, I feel the pressure too. But, if you can, just take a moment and think about why those people are on your list at all. 

It's a lean year. The husband and I spent less on Christmas this year, than we have for many, many years, but we didn't skimp out on the important part.

What brought all this on?

I came home tonight and found a box of apples and pears from my grandfather. It made me smile. Heck, it almost made me cry. 

He was thinking about me.

For the Record

Since, it doesn't happen very often I just wanted to record the effort. 

I was TOTALLY a good wife today. 

We had a bunch of friends over this weekend. Yesterday, the girls and I all pretended that we're domesticated Betty Crocker types and baked tons of cookies and made some candy and fudge for Christmas. Then, after our intrepid baking adventure I made dinner for everyone. There was some wine involved and we played some games after dinner, so the dishes were piled high and left overnight. 

This morning, the husband wanted to get the dishes done so he could watch the Packer game when it came on at noon. 

Brace yourselves.

I helped him do the dishes. 

He washed, I dried. 

I have no idea what came over me. 

I even wiped down the counter tops. 

In case the husband ever forgets, now I'll have a written record to remind him with.

All the cool kids have their names embroidered on their black belts in Japanese...

"...and I want to be one of the cool kids." - GameBoy.

My response- "Me too."

GameBoy was explaining to me why he was photo copying his certificate of accomplishment from his dojo. They needed his name in Japanese to embroider on his black belt, you see.

These are the kind of conversations you get to have when you work at a tech company with software developers.

What?? Shut up!
You know you wish you were one of the cool kids, too.

Goodbye, English Rose

Things are a-changin' at my place of employment.
I have worked there for 4 years and 5 months.
For the last 4 years and 4 months, the Hammer has been my fearless leader.
We've been through our ups and our downs.
He used to really, really get on my nerves sometimes. Especially in the beginning when he was just figuring out the whole leadership thing.
Over the years, we've gotten used to one another. He knows my strengths and weaknesses and I know his. I know when to take him seriously and when he's being unintentionally offensive.

The Hammer isn't going away. He's still going to be a fearless leader, just not my fearless leader.

It's hard to know if this is a good change or a bad change. Maybe it's neither, maybe it's just plain old change. We'll see.

Goodbye, Hammer. We had a good run. See ya around the office.

Christmas Cards

I'm officially done with my Christmas cards. 

They've been addressed, stickered, stamped and signed. 

This year we're sending out 34 cards. 

34! I can't believe we know 34 people to send out cards to!

I'm kind of sick of Christmas cards. 

Addressing, stickering, stamping and signing all 34 of them was kind of a pain in the ass. 

The good news is that right now, is the longest time until I have to fill out Christmas cards again. 

Yay!

The Husband, Slaughterer of Mice

The husband is a slaughterer of mice. 

We had mice in the basement. The husband wanted them out of the house. 

I agreed, but I wanted him to catch and release the little buggers.

I'm not big on killing anything really. 

I catch and release bugs, even ones that I think are gross. 

I just can't be responsible for snuffing out their little lives. 

I know, but I'm a soft touch, I can't help it. 

Plus, I think mice are kind of cute... in a don't touch me or live in my house kind of way. 

The husband "tried" the humane trap for a week and then proclaimed that they "don't work" and used a regular mouse trap. He caught one that way. I try not to think about it because it kind of makes me sad. 

I went down in the basement tonight and the humane trap had caught a mouse, but because the husband never checks it the poor thing died, probably of starvation or dehydration. 

Poor, sad mouse.

I don't want to kill any more mice.  

I'm not sure why it's the husband's fault, but I'm pretty sure it is. 

He'd definitely be the villain in a children's story about a mouse. 

My mean, ole husband, the mouse slayer. 

The husband can't help killing mice. 

I can't help not wanting him to and feeling bad about it.

This is what we call an impasse. 

Love Actually

The husband and I watched Love Actually this evening.

I am just chock full of the kind of warm, fuzzies that this movie always gives me.

At this moment, I love puppies and rainbows and babies... and I love, love this movie. 

The music is amazing.

Emma Thompson is brilliant, as per usual for her.

Wisconsin girls (for once) are skewed towards being portrayed as hotties.

"Kids, don't buy drugs. Become a pop star and they give them to you for free." - Billy Mack

"To me, you are perfect..." - Mark

 

Sigh. 

Did I mention I love this movie?

There is only one problem with it and it bothers me every time I watch. 

Sarah's (Laura Linney) story. 

I get it; she loves her brother.

I love my siblings. 

I even have a certain amount of experience with sacrificing a piece of your own happiness for that of your siblings. 

I might help them cover up a murder. I would definitely take in their crack babies. 

But, if I had the opportunity to sleep with a man I had secretly been in love with for 2 years 7 months 3 days and 2 hours, then I would shut my cell phone off.

Their problems would still be there when we're done, right?

So, what's the harm?

I don't mean to burst your bubble if you thought otherwise, but there you have it. 

Not Miserable

Yesterday was terrible. 

Have you ever been really, really tired, but unable to sleep?

That was most of yesterday for me, plus, you know, being sick. 

I would nod off for maybe a half-hour, but it was a restless sleep.

Last night, it finally happened. I finally managed to fall asleep.

And sleep I did, for about 12 hours or so. 

Beautiful!

I feel so much better today.

Not perfect, but not miserable.

Given how I felt yesterday, I will happily take not miserable. 

Looks like Hell

I must look like hell today.
My co-workers keep commenting on it.

GameBoy: You look terrible.
Thanks GB! He wasn't even trying to be mean. There was sympathy in his voice when he said it.

The Saint: Umm... you just look really, really tired.
At least she tried to be diplomatic!

I feel a little better (throat's not so scratchy and I'm not as cold), but I'm just so fucking exhausted I can barely function. It sucks because the husband and I had to cancel our date night tonight. I don't know how I'm going to make it through the next couple of hours at work before I go home, there's no way I can handle going to dinner and shopping with the husband.

Bright side? We need to clean the house before mr & mrs blume and family arrive next weekend. If I don't feel better, it may end up being a one man operation. Sorry husband, once again, you drew the short stick.

Sick, sick, sick

I think I might be getting sick.
My bones feel tired. I just want to lay down my head on my desk and go to sleep.
Also, the back of my throat is kind of scratchy. And I'm cold.

However, I can't take off from work even if I am sick since we have a deadline on the 18th.
Plus, the husband and I have a little date night planned for tomorrow night that I'm kind of excited about.

Really, what I'd love at this point, is a pause button. I could hit Pause, work this illness out of my system and then press Play when I'm ready to get back in the game.

Since that isn't an option, I'm just going to pretend it's not happening. Maybe it will go away.
The power of positive thinking?

I am not sick.
I am feeling better every minute that passes.

Or something like that.

Christmas Card!

There was a Christmas card in our mailbox today!

Unfortunately, it was not for us, but for the people who used to own our house.

Hello?

You moved over 3 years ago!!

Update your family and friends with your new address already.

Note: This is not a unique occurrence. It's not all the time, but I'd say we get something for them every so often.

They loved catalogs. Boring catalogs.

Cougars

On Top Chef last week, one of the teams named themselves "The Cougars" after one of the ladies, who is in her early 40s.

She seemed flattered.

When I get to be her age, would I find it flattering to be called a cougar?

Not sure.

But, if someone called me a cougar today, I would punch them in the mouth.

Hard.

Pleasant Surprise

Plan for the worst, hope for the best is usually my favorite course of action.

So, in preparation for going to the gym tonight I set my expectations low.

I was prepared for it to be overcrowded with the most annoying of the temporary gym goers. Instead of the usual type with a short-lived desire to "get into shape", the post-Thanksgiving gym goers are merely there to do penance and assuage some gluttonous guilt. 

I tried to be good-ish on Thanksgiving, but I didn't really deny myself anything. So, I was prepared to pay the price for my own sins. 

However, I was pleasantly surprised. The gym was at pretty average capacity, and I got to use my favorite treadmill. Yay! PLUS, instead of gaining holiday weight, I lost 0.8 lbs. 

The human body is a fucked up thing. I keep trying to figure it out. I keep trying to make it make sense, but it doesn't. 

I can be good for weeks on end and everything stays the same. I'm moderate to bad for two days and there's a loss?

The Upside/Downside (depending on your point of view) to having a good night at the gym?

I was actually smiling, so three or four people said hello to me. Sigh.

This may have set back my image as an unfriendly badass for years. For years!

Lunch with Natalie

My friend, JR, sent me a link to this video today embedded in an appointment request for the two of us to go to lunch. Hilarious!
Although I think this might make him slightly evil! :)

Hmm... do you think he's trying to tell me something?

Thankful

In honor of the day and to spread a little good karma around, here are a few things I am thankful for:

1. Our home loan

Sometimes it takes my breath away to think how close the husband and I came to being caught up in the current housing crisis. Buying a house is hard and confusing. We made a lot of mistakes when we were buying our house, but the one mistake we didn't make was taking out an ARM (adjustable rate mortgage) on the house. Our loans are fixed rate, which we decided on because I am suspicious of anything that is "adjustable." Looking back, it could have so easily gone the other way. 

I'm thankful to have a home that I can afford to pay for. 

2. My job

Times are hard economically. People are being laid off. Jobs are hard to come by. Good jobs are even harder to find. My job is not my passion. It isn't something I ever thought I would do. That being said, it's a good job. I'm good at it. It's a job that makes use of a lot of my natural talents and gives me an outlet for some things I really enjoy doing. It's stable. 

I'm thankful to have a job I can count on. 

3. My Gym

I don't know what I would do without the gym. I don't know what I did before the gym. There are so many benefits. It relieves stress. It's part of living a healthy lifestyle. It makes me feel good about myself. All of the ladies at the front desk know me at the gym. I think if the husband ever tries to do away with me and cover up my murder, the ladies at the gym will be the first to notice and alert the police. 

I'm thankful for my gym and everything that goes with it.

4. My iPod

I love my iPod. I've told the husband on several occasions that if anything happens to it, that we will have to find the money to replace it because I'm not going back to an iPod-less life. It has introduced me to so many new songs and artists. It entertains me on the way to work. It helps me block out my co-workers. It keeps my ass moving on the treadmill. 

I'm thankful for my little red buddy. 

5. My co-workers

I know. I should be grateful for my family and friends before I'm thankful for my co-workers, but frankly I spend 40+ hours with them every week. They have the ability to make my life miserable. The great thing is that they don't. The Saint shares my workload. FancyTalker is helpful and makes me laugh. GameBoy listens to me and is a good collaborator. JR just plain old rocks. Even the Hammer is supportive and a good co-worker. 

I'm thankful for the people who hang with me in the trenches. 

6. My sisters

It's strange. Sis-C is nothing like Sist-A, and yet they are two of the closest people to me. I have always said that Sis-C and I are different sides of the same coin. We are so different in our tastes and outlooks, but at our core we are much the same. She knows me better than anyone else. It's good that we have each other, because there are very few people who get the jokes we have for one another. Sist-A, on the other hand, is my little grasshopper. It's often strange and eerie how much we have in common. We've really gotten to spend more time with one another this year and grown a lot closer, which makes me really happy. 

I'm thankful for two awesome ladies who I love very, very much.

7. My dogs

My dogs make me happy. They are sweet, loving and cuddly. There is not a mean bone in any of their furry little bodies. They are naughty and spirited. They trust me to take care of them. All they require from me is food, water, being taken out and a few belly scratches. I adore my rotten angels. 

I'm thankful for my doggies who give so much and expect so little in return. 

8. My friends

I pay attention to people. Some people find it disconcerting because I pay attention when people talk and I notice what they do and remember what they say. So, when I say that all my friends are really good people in their own way, I mean it. I'm not just saying that because we are friends. There are these little moments when they do something kind or sweet or generous and it makes my heart melt, just a little bit. 

I'm thankful that a really great group of people continues to hang out with the likes of me. 

9. My family

My grandfather sends me cards every so often because I send him cards every so often. They kind of break my heart. He is really trying to make an effort because he wants me to know that he appreciates the effort I'm making. My dad is brave, taking on a new mortgage and a new business in unsure economic times and to my knowledge hasn't had a complete melt down about it. My step mom is always taking care of everybody but herself. My mum is supportive, always. 

I'm thankful for these people were in my life by fate, and are in my life by choice.

10. The husband

Always the husband. My playmate and partner, I never appreciate you as much as I should. We've been together so long sometimes I forget what it's like to see you. I'm really a terrible wife and marrying me is not evidence of good decision making on your part. Yet, for whatever reason, you seem to love me anyway. Sucker. You're stuck with me now. 

For what it's worth, I'm thankful for the husband, who I love endlessly. 

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours! 

Mushy, Mushy

Some couples are all mushy, mushy. (See Snoop and DaisyDukes as Exhibit A)

The husband and I are not one of those couples. We opt for a slightly more antagonistic version of "I love you."

Here's an e-mail exchange just from today:

Me (9:18 AM): Are you going to the gym tonight?

The Husband (9:28 AM): That is the plan. 

Probably going to "run" and shoot hoops tonight... 

I'm thinking about wearing my white spandex...

Me (12:10 PM): You can wear white spandex if you want, but I'm going to pretend we're not married when we're in public.

TH (12:13 PM): I will be sure that EVERYONE knows that we are married.

Me (12:16 PM): I'll start crying and then you'll feel bad.

TH (12:25 PM): Possibly... but I don't think that will stop me.

Me (12:26 PM): You're a bad, bad man. :(

I'm crying right now. 

TH (12:26 PM): Doesn't really affect me. 

Can I get an "awww"?

My Eyes are Bleeding

Gentlemen! Here is a fashion tip from me to you:

Do not wear colorful underwear underneath white spandex shorts.

White spandex shorts (in case you didn't know) are not opaque. 

I can see EVERYTHING, even though I can assure you, I do not want to. 

To the older man at my gym who loves white spandex shorts, please stop. 

I can tell you're the saucy type, after all you love neon green and navy blue underwear. 

But, the thing is, you're making my eyes bleed. 

Smells Like Onions

My hands smell like onions. 

Yesterday I made tacos for dinner. Since they were turkey tacos, I cut up an onion and but it in with taco meat. 

It tasted good, but now 24 hours later, my hands still smell like onions. 

I hate that. 

It doesn't matter how many times I wash my hands or how careful I am when I chop, the smell just lingers. 

Blech.

I'm Lame

I'm up at 1:30 AM watching Stick It, a craptacular movie about gymnastics. 

Here are a few things that are sad about this, besides the fact I'm watching this movie at all.

1. This is not the first time I've seen this movie. 

That's right. I've seen it before and I decided to watch it again anyway.

2. Two commercial banks ago, the movie some how reset to show the part of the movie that was on two commercial banks before that. 

So, not only am I watching the movie again, I've been watching the same scenes from this movie for about the last 45 minutes. 

3. Milo went to bed without me. 

The husband went to bed around midnight. Milo made it until one, but then I opened the bedroom door and he scampered away to cuddle up with the husband rather than stay up with me. It's sad when your dog abandons you because you've officially stayed up too late.

4. I cannot turn this movie off. 

It's not a great movie and I already know what happens. But, for the life of me, I cannot turn it off. I have to see it through to the end. 

It's possible I need some form of professional help. 

Side note: The gymnastics fan-girl in me totally tweaked out when I saw Nastia Liukin is in this movie. She does a whole bars routine. Hee. Awesome. 

Until I saw the movie poster, I didn't know this movie was from the writer of Bring It On. That should give you some hint about how good this movie is. 

Nuke the Moon

I was reading an article this morning about how Mormons would like pole dancing added as an Olympic sport. 

Side note: They can't stand love and commitment between people of the same sex, but they're all for spandex and stripper heels? 

Anyway! In the course of this article it mentioned that the petition to add pole dancing as an Olympic sport had only a few more signatures than the petition to nuke the moon. (300 versus 297).

Here is the petition to nuke the moon. 

I don't know that I can adequately express the delight I felt upon seeing an online petition to nuke the moon. 

Seriously people, this is why the Internet is awesome. 

There are not enough LOLs in the world to make you understand. 

Ridiculous? Maybe. 

And yet, even though I don't have any desire to nuke the moon, I've been seriously considering adding signature 298. 

Hardwicke

I was reading a review of the movie Twilight this afternoon and I was surprised to find that Catherine Hardwicke was the director.

I've seen all the movies that she has directed up until Twilight.
I think the woman is on crack.
Her directing choices are so bizarre.

Her first movie was Thirteen starring Evan Rachel Wood and Holly Hunter.
I understand what she was going for in this movie. I would even say, on some level, it's a good movie. But, I didn't like this movie. At all. 13-year-old girls are brats. I have a lot of respect for middle school teachers. It's on the list of jobs I would never, ever in a million years want, right alongside garbage collector and nurse (can you imagine me voluntarily entering a profession where I have to touch people for a living on purpose... yuck!).

Her second movie was Lords of Dogtown starring Heath Ledger and Emile Hirsch.
It's a kick-ass movie about the fathers of modern skateboarding based on the documentary of the same name. Love it. In fact, I own it.

Her third movie was The Nativity Story starring Keisha Castle-Hughes (aka that chick from Whale Rider). I don't think I need to enter a description of what this movie is about.

Um, what? The first two are gritty, fast paced stories about kids who grow up too fast surrounded by drugs, sex and alcohol. And in Lords of Dogtown's case, fame too.
The third is about the birth of Christ.
One of these things is not like the other...

Now, her fourth movie is Twilight.
Basically, a glorified teen soap opera about a vampire who falls in love with a human.

I haven't seen Twilight, but I've read the book it was based on. It's about the furthest thing from gritty that I can think of.

The first three movies all look alike. They have the same color palette and choppy cut away style, that I'm banking the fourth one has as well.
The only thematic thread that holds them together is that they are about teenagers.

If I didn't know that they were all directed by the same woman and you listed those four movies, Thirteen, Lords of Dogtown, The Nativity Story and Twilight and asked me what they all had in common, I would say nothing. They have nothing in common.

I'm not even bagging on her. It's just such a weird group of movies to call your own.
It makes me wonder what the thought process was. Does she just direct any movie they'll let her direct? Is there a rhyme or a reason there? If so, what the hell is it?

Maybe if I start smoking crack it will all become clear.

Redundant

I know it doesn't need to be said. 

It doesn't need to be written. 

It's one of those things that you just know without having to communicate it. 

If we were together, our eyes would meet and we would both know. 

We would know for that moment, that instant in time, we are EXACTLY on the same page with one another. 

Yet, I'm going to say it anyway. 

At the gym tonight, I watched "A Carol Christmas" starring Tori Spelling. 

It's like a Christmas Carol, only instead of Scrooge, it's a woman named Carol who's mean and has her own television show. 

We've had the big build up, and now here's the big bang. 

That movie sucks ass. 

It was horrible.

Tori Spelling cannot act.

I could not help but roll my eyes. I actually said "yuck" out loud at one point. 

That's right. I was talking to myself OUT LOUD at the gym. 

Thanks a lot Tori Spelling.

You suck.

You know what else?

Fuck you ABC Family.

Quit calling it the 25 days of Christmas.

You've already started it douche bags. 

We are currently at 35 days until Christmas.

Do the math. 

If you are insistent upon ramming Christmas down our throats, so that even in these hard economic times we couldn't possibly forget the season of rampant consumerism, then so be it. But don't call it the 25 days of Christmas. 

I'm just saying...

Top Chef-iness

Top Chef is back for a fifth season. 

It's usually only after the season is over that I can finally enjoy these first couple of episodes when it's all chaotic and there are too many chefs to keep track of. 

There were two chefs kicked off last week and I can't even remember them. 

I like the Europeans so far. They are very confident, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. I loved Hung from Season 3 and Marcel from Season 2, so clearly an unrealistic, absolute belief in one's talents isn't a deal breaker for me. 

So far, I find Fabio charming. We'll see. After awhile the whole "Team Europe" thing may grate, but so far I dig it.

I also dig the adorable tattooed lesbian, Jamie, the tattooed hard-knock kid, Eugene, and the big dopey guy Hosea. 

I'm undecided on Carla. 

On the one hand, she's bat shit crazy. 

On the other hand, she's bat shit crazy.

She kind of creeps me out though, so I'm leaning towards nay, but who can tell?

I do not dig Ariane. She wants to know if "she's as good as everyone says she is."

She's been on the bottom for two challenges in a row.

Padma spit out her food.

Padma never spits out the food. 

Hmmm... I have a sneaking suspicion that you are not as good as everyone says you are. 

Jill left the show this week and she probably won't be missed. However, watching her attempt to crack those ostrich eggs was the highlight of this week's Top Chef for me. 

Most Influential

Forbes created a list of most "influential celebrity tots"
What the hell?
Who are they influencing?

Me?
Well, those Mary Janes Suri's been sporting lately are pretty cute. They'd still look pretty good on a 28 y/o right?

Seriously, people, get a grip. They're toddlers. Just because they happened to be unlucky enough to be the spawn of a celebrity doesn't mean anything. Yes, unlucky. Of the "top 10", would anyone like to place bets on how many of them end up in rehab in the next 10 - 15 years?

Also stupid? The fact that they've ranked siblings, but sometimes not all the sibs made the list.
Example) Sean Preston (Britany Spears oldest) made the list, but her youngest Jayden James did not.
Zahara, Shiloh and Pax Jolie-Pitt made the list, but Maddox, Vivienne and Knox did not.

If these kids were old enough to be aware of such a stupid fucking list, how much would that suck to be the kid left off of it? Your siblings are influential, but you just didn't make the cut.

Dumb, dumb, dumb.
You and your top 10 lists are lame Forbes.

Just for your edification, here's their list:
Suri Cruise
Shiloh Jolie-Pitt
Zahara Jolie-Pitt
Pax Jolie-Pitt
Sam Alexis Wood
Cruz Beckham
Matilda Rose Ledger
David Banda
Sean Preston Federline
Sam Sheen

Reading

I have always loved books. For as long as I can remember, they have provided hours and hours of entertainment.

Since I graduated from college, it's been more of a feast or famine situation. Sometimes I don't read much at all. At other times, I read like it's a drug I can't live without.

A couple of weeks ago, on a whim, I picked up To Kill a Mockingbird again. I had forgotten how much I like that book.

I've read some "classics" that I had to trudge through and didn't really enjoy them all that much. Anna Karenina comes to mind. Parts are good, but there are parts that drag out endlessly. End-less-ly! A note to Tolstoy: Philosophy does not a narrative make.

To Kill a Mockingbird on the other hand is just a good read.

Now, I've moved on to All Quiet on the Western Front. I've read it before, but I don't remember finding it sort of darkly amusing before. The author (Erich Maria Remarque) was actually in WWI, so some of what he's describing comes from experience. But, some of it is written in such flowery language it seems out of place in what is otherwise a sort of dark, gritty book. Maybe something got lost in translation?

Quantum of Solace

I went to see Quantum of Solace today with the fam. 

The fam minus the husband who due to his drinking and staying up late last night, spent the entire day curled up in a fetal position in a darkened room. Wuss. 

The intelligent, empowered 21st century feminist in me thinks I shouldn't really like 007 movies. They are kind of misogynistic, especially the old ones. 

The rest of me tells her to shut the hell up for the following reasons:

1. My dad and I used to watch 007 movies together on cable when I was a kid. I can't hate on something we bonded over. 

2. I like action movies. 

In true American style, blow some shit up, drive fast cars, boats and/or planes, shoot some bad guys and I'm entertained for a few hours... as long as the plot line isn't incredibly stupid. (The part after the ... is just my caveat, unfortunately it doesn't seem to be the general rule)

3. I like 007 movies. 

The lame one-liners, the gadgets, the fast, gorgeous cars, the fast, gorgeous women. There's a certain tradition there that I dig. 

4. Daniel Craig is a smokin' piece of man flesh. The man knows how to wear a suit. Plus, the striking blue eyes. Plus, the gritty realism vibe of the last two Bond movies all makes for a very attractive package. All due respect to Sean Connery, but Daniel Craig is my favorite Bond, definitely of my lifetime, possibly ever. 

I'm pretty sure I would show up to watch him read the phone book. 

Passing the Time

Today the husband is away at his 10 year high school reunion. I graciously agreed to stay home, so we didn't have to kennel the dogs. 

I had no idea what to do with a whole day by myself. 

The gym? (Of course!) Check.

The grocery store? Check.

But, that only got me as far as 11:30. 

I'm pretty proud of myself. Instead of sitting around and wasting the whole day watching tv or movies, or some other equally mind numbing pursuit, I actually spent the day painting. 

So, I turned on the radio (and eventually my iPod, when I got annoyed with the songs they were playing on the radio) and mixed colors, sketched shapes, cleaned brushes, got paint EVERYWHERE. I finally finished the painting I started... when was that?... 2 years ago, I think. 

It's all shiny because it was done with oil paints and they aren't dry yet. Also, the wings are darker in person, but they appear brighter in this picture because of the flash. This painting was more an exercise in color and to see if I could take a fairly simple image in my head and put it on the canvas, than it was about the content itself. I'm going to call it "Dirty Wings" and overall, I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out. 


 
This is my new project. It's still in it's infancy, but I'm happy with the shapes so far. 

I really need to remember to do this more often. Every personality/career test that I take ends up labelling me as a "creator." I thrive on the creative process. It excites and fulfills me in a way that not much else can. You don't have to be "good" at something to make it worthwhile to do it, you just have to enjoy it. 

Why Wouldn't I?

I finally checked my non-work email today after a few days hiatus (which naturally means my Inbox was overflowing with junk mail). What was surprising was the number of people who sent me emails telling me my email addressed had been phished.

I don't know what would make you think that!
It's good to know (for future reference) that if I find an international electronic products wholesaler, that you are all uninterested.
Next time I won't waste my time.

In the meantime, if you could help out my friend (he's a Sudanese prince, y'all) with his money problems I'd greatly appreciate it! :)

hello
Dear friend:
We are an international electronic products wholesaler. Our products are high-quality low-cost features. If you want to do business , we can provide to you the most reasonable discount to make you get preferential price..
Please visit our website: http://
E-mail :
MSN:
Looking forward to your contact and long cooperation with us!
Our main products are the phones, PSP, display TV, notebook, video, computers, Mp4, GPS, xbox 360, digital cameras and so on.
You are welcome to view our website. Thanks.

What's really annoying is now I have to change my fucking password. I've had that password since high school, assholes!! Bastards...

Fanciness

My optometrist was very concerned that I have not been disinfecting my contact lenses. I would worry, but I haven't disinfected them for the last 13 years, so this is nothing new. 

He gave me a new system for my contacts, which hopefully won't cause the raging, stinging, aching, I-want-to-rip-the-eyeballs-out-of-my-head pain I have previously experienced with disinfectants. 

This is my new contact lens case. Looks fancy, right?

You pull the middle out and put a lens in the basket on each side. 

Then, you fill the vial with hydrogen peroxide, which will disinfect the lenses. 

My optometrist must think I'm pretty, because he told me no less than 10 times that I am not to put hydrogen peroxide in my eyes. 

Of course, then he mentioned that hydrogen peroxide in the eyes is very painful, which he knows "from experience," so possibly, he's the pretty one. 

I had my contacts out for our appointment, so I couldn't really tell. 

Then you put the lenses in the hydrogen peroxide for at least 6 hours. During the six hours the metal disk at the bottom of the case reacts with the hydrogen peroxide and turns it into sterile water. So, theoretically, I should be able to take them directly out of the case and pop them into my eye. 

Maybe my nerd colors are shining through, because I think that's pretty fucking cool.

Way to go, Science, as long as it works. If not, watch your back. I've got my eye on you. 

Armistice Day

Today is Veterans Day. It is a day of remembrance. And while we remember those who've fought for this country we should remember how this day was started in the first place. When I think of Veterans Day, I think of a quote by Kurt Vonnegut in Breakfast of Champions,

I will come to a time in my backwards trip when November eleventh, accidentally my birthday, was a sacred day called Armistice Day. When I was a boy, and when Dwayne Hoover was a boy, all of the people of all of the nations which had fought in the First World War were silent during the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of Armistice Day, which was the eleventh day of the eleventh month. 

It was during that minute in nineteen hundred and eighteen, that millions upon millions of human beings stopped butchering one another. I have talked to old men who were on battlefields during that minute. They have told me in one way or another that the sudden silence was the Voice of God. 

So we still have among us some men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind. 

Armistice Day has become Veterans' Day. Armistice Day was sacred. Veterans' Day is not. 

So I will throw Veterans' Day over my shoulder. Armistice Day I will keep. I don't want to throw away any sacred things. 

What else is sacred? Oh, Romeo and Juliet, for instance. 

And all music is. 

Puppies!

Puppies, puppies and more puppies!

That was our house this weekend. 

I'm not going to lie to you. I love puppies. I have a giant soft spot for the soft and furry, but even I thought it was going to be crazy and awful. Instead, it was crazy and kind of fun.

This is Bunji (pronounced "bungee") who we dog-sat this weekend for one of the husband's co-workers. He was an absolute sweetheart and I think he might be Emmy's new boyfriend. Plus, I think he might have been the softest dog I've ever petted. 

He was a really well-behaved dog.  Which led the husband to look at me repeatedly and say, "We are not getting another dog."

But the husband should know better. This experience didn't make me want another dog (much). Milo and Bunji loved to play together, which is awesome. I'm glad they had fun, but at the end of the day I want Milo's attention where it should be... on me. Another dog would just be competition, so BAH to that. 

Poor Bunji. He loved to attack little Milo. They were pretty evenly matched. But, when the big dogs, Joe and Cash, came out he was scared of his wits. He suddenly got very cuddly when they were around.  

Poor big dogs. They are so friendly and sweet. They just get a bad name because of their size. 

See! This is the husband and Cash right now. They are two of a kind. Constantly napping. 

On Saturday, the newlyweds came to visit with their dog, Emmy. Can you do the math on that one?

Yep, that's right. We were a 5 dog household for a little bit this weekend. 

This is a picture of the three little ones. Notice Emmy sitting nicely. Notice me holding the other two down and forcing them to stay for the photo. 

The newlyweds came up so we could go to the Badger-Michigan Tech hockey game, which was awesome. Badgers won 6-0. Let me translate that for you if you aren't a hockey fan, that's what we call an ass-kicking. 

How long do you think it would take for four college graduates to figure out how to work a digital camera on a timer? 

Hint: This took several tries. 

 

I'm Not Ready

FancyTalker and I had a pow-wow this afternoon about some projects we're working on. As he got up to leave, he said, "Do you see that? Out the window?"

At which point I glare at him because he knows good and well that I cannot see out the window from my cube. Also, I cannot see over the tops of the cube walls out the window either, being so short (a fact which he likes to rub in), so I am forced to walk to the nearest window to see what he's going on about.

Snow.

Big, stupid, fat flakes swirling around.

It's like beautiful, floaty, cold, death.

Months and months of harsh winds, poor driving conditions, wet dogs, wet pant hems, salted

streets, winter jackets, cold hands and tons of cold, wet snow.

Yes, it's pretty, but I'm not ready for this.

My Cheatin' Heart

I got a haircut yesterday and I hate it!
The color she did was awesome, it's got kind of purple-y "panels" in it now.
But the cut? Awful!!!

I remember being so poor in college that I went to the Great Clips in Plover for a hair cut.
The woman hacked my hair to pieces and I actually cried in the parking lot over what she had done. After that I resolved to always have my hair done at a decent salon, even if I had to save up or not get my hair cut very often.

This is the first time that plan has blown up in my face. The problem is that at my hair salon, they love to pair us with one particular hair dresser. I don't want one. I just want who ever is available, but no, I'm locked into my girl.

The problem is she really likes the type of cut where it is short in the back and long in the front or short in the front and long in the back. I hate this look.
I have determined that I hate the following hair cuts:
Anything that resembles a mullet
Anything that resembles the "Rachel" haircut of the 90s
Anything that resembles the "Posh" haircut of last year (super short in back, long in front)
Anything that resembles Jane Kaczmarek's hair cut in "Malcolm in the Middle"
Anything that resembles Ramiele Malubay's hair cut from her American Idol days

And yes, it is a long list.
And no, I didn't realize until today that I had a list of hair cuts I hated that long.
And technically, I don't hate them. I just don't want them.

So, since I hate my haircut so much I made an appointment at a salon in Monroe to try to fix it.
I hope they don't make it worse.
If they do I may go on a rampage that makes Godzilla seems like a small nuisance to Tokyo.

When I called the new salon, they asked me on a scale of 1 - 10 how important is my hair to me.
Before today I would have given it a 3 or 4, but now I'm not sure. It feels like a lie now, since this cut is bothering me so much.

I know she gave me a haircut I hate. I know I didn't want to be assigned permanently to her anyway.
BUT, I kind of feel like I'm cheating on my hairdresser.
I've started thinking up lies to tell her the next time I see her.
I don't want her to know I cheated on her.
Gum stuck in my hair?
My niece is in cosmetology school?
Or maybe she won't notice.

What?
Yeah, I'll probably go back and see her again.
I really like they way they dye my hair there.
Just because I'm seeing someone else on the side, doesn't mean I want to break up.

It was only one time, baby, I swear it. You know I love you...

This one's for me

Last night was a historic evening. Moments of beauty, hope and joy few and far between. As such, I want to record last night's events so that I as a reminder that days like this do exist. 

I was in camp all day at work, but we got out early. I turned on news coverage immediately. I combed the news channels for the latest returns. The husband came home and watched the coverage with me (in between naps anyway). Since it was Tuesday (of course) I went to the gym and watched CNN on the elliptical, while the husband watched from home. 

I came home and was glued to the coverage until 9PM. The husband is not that big into politics, so at 9 we compromised and switched back and forth between Indecision 08 (Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert on Comedy Central) and CNN. At 10PM CST, Jon Stewart said, "I would just like to say, if I may... that at 11 o'clock at night, Eastern Standard Time, the president of the United States is Barack Obama."

My immediate response? "Don't fuck with me Jon Stewart!"

I quickly switched to CNN and kept clicking refresh on my computer for confirmation from a legitimate news source that the news was true. I was all at once overjoyed and scared that it wouldn't be true. 

The husbands response? He woke up from his nap and said, "That's good."

A few minutes after it was announced and the phone rang. There was no doubt in my mind as to who it would be. It was Sis-C. We both squealed on the phone. 

The husband and I stayed up to hear both John McCain's concession speech and Barack Obama's victory speech. I may have shed a few tears. I have been buoyed up by a sense of optimism and well-being ever since. 

Proud

Barack Obama is the president elect!! He will be the 44th President of the United States.

I cannot adequately express in words the joy this news gives me.

I am proud, which is strange because it has relatively little to do with me personally.

Yet, all the same, I am proud.

I am proud of my country.

I am proud of Obama.

I am proud that I will be able to tell my children that I was here to witness this historic event. That I was here to participate in this historic event.

It's a beautiful evening and the future is looking better and better.

I Voted Republican

Ha! I'm just messing with you.

I'm happy to say that this morning I participated in the electoral process of the United States of America by casting my vote for Barack Hussein Obama.

I had this irrational fear last night before I went to bed that my hand would somehow become possessed and vote for McCain. It was kind of freaking me out. Luckily, I was able to maintain control of all my limbs in the voting booth and vote Obama.

I keep compulsively checking all the news stories. I'm looking, searching, yearning for news of the election. Isn't anyone doing exit polls this year? 

This election is making me crazy. Thank goodness it's almost over. 

Vote, Vote, Vote!!

Tomorrow is the big day. 

I'm nervous. 

One part fear and one part anticipation. 

I'm afraid to hope, but I can't help myself.

Go vote tomorrow.

Barack Obama 08.

Beautiful... and sad

The last couple of days have been gorgeous. 

The skies have been clear and the temperatures warm.

But, there is always some wistfulness when you have a beautiful day this time of year.

This feeling that you had better savor it as much as possible, because it might be the last of the beautiful days for awhile. 

And also some hope, that it might last just a little bit longer.

Cleaning the House

The husband and I finally faced the music today and cleaned the house. 

I hate cleaning. A LOT.

He's lazy, but hates for things to be dirty.

The combination means we often go for a few months without cleaning the house. We would probably go longer, but somebody (not me) gets their panties in a bunch about the house being dirty and whines until I finally agree to help.

Cleaning sucks, but having a clean house is awesome.

If I had the money, I would totally pay someone to do it for me. 

It takes a long time to clean the house when you don't do it very often.

It takes even longer when the husband is downstairs "vacuuming" the basement for three hours, which involves a lot of watching the Badger game (and very little cleaning). 

Before you feel too sorry for the guy (his mean old wife making him clean the house instead of watch the Badger game), it was his nagging that finally got us to clean the house AND I wanted to clean the house last Sunday when there was no Packer game on. HE wanted to wait until today. 

Blinded by that light? Yeah, that's my halo. Because I was actually cleaning while the husband pretended to. 

Dark Days

Some days are darker than others.
Today is one of those days.
The monsters I keep carefully locked away in the basement forced their way out.
They know they can't win, but they can make me suffer.
With the kind of week I've had, it was only a matter of time.
I think someone at work might have slipped them the key.
I've been all over the place today.
Sometimes I'm fine, but right now I feel sad and alone.
AND our company Halloween party didn't have any cookies, they brought in doughnuts instead.
WTF?? Doughnuts??
If you are going to go to the trouble of throwing yourself a pity party, there should be chocolate there. (Preferably in bar, cookie, or ice cream form... not necessarily in that order)

Don't worry and good Lord don't call me. I'll get over it soon enough.

ETA: It's possible I was just hungry. I had something to eat and I'm feeling a little better.

Joyful Prelude

I've had a low-grade headache all week that ibuprofen doesn't seem to be able to knock out.

Here's the recipe for our Halloween evening:

Start with the ringing of the bell - [ding-dong]
Add a cacophony of dogs barking
Repeat ad nauseam.

I suppose I could go Grinch on them and shut off the porch light.
We'll see.

Sarah Palin Panties

I bought some new underwear at Victoria's Secret last week.

D and Fern got me a gift certificate a couple of years ago and I was finally using it up.

Below is one of the pairs I picked up.

I've decided to call them my "Sarah Palin Panties"

Notice the stag head, hot cocoa, bunnies, snow flakes and birdies.



So, someday when I come around and tell you that I'm off to shoot a moose, you can think to yourself, "She's got her Sarah Palin Panties on today."

Possibly, I'll just start winking at you and shouting "Maverick" like I have Tourettes Syndrome... and you'll know.

And then someday, I'll decide to go 'rogue' and shout, "Honey, find my 'Sarah Palin Panties', this pitbull's about get herself some lipstick."

Watch out for that.

It means that it's the end of days.

The Hammer

Forget anything negative I have ever said about the Hammer.
I officially love that guy.
It's good to know that although other people may blow, he's got my back.

I've always said loyalty and respect are earned; you don't give them away as party favors.
Well, now the Hammer has both.

Good Cop, Bad Cop

I realized today that we do this a lot at work, use the good cop/bad cop angle. 

I am always the bad cop. 

I'm not sure how I feel about that. 

These Pictures Made My Day

Arrrrgh!!

Quaker Steak and Lube: The Affordable Choice

The husband went golfing last year with the KhakiRepublican, among others, at some tournament. He ended up getting a $100 gift certificate to Quaker Steak and Lube.

Last night, before the Badger hockey game, we went to the QS&L with Sist-A and the KR.

Between the four of us, including an appetizer and entrees we only spent about 1/2 of our gift certificate. 

AND the food was pretty good. Or at least mine was, and it was not unhealthy. 

Hmm... who knew the Quaker Steak and Lube was such an affordable option?

P.S. Thanks to the golfing tournament for a gift certificate that will cover the greater part of two meals for 4

I Hate Pumpkin Carving

A couple of weeks ago I had the great idea to carve some pumpkins for Halloween.
What a terrible idea!
Carving a pumpkin is hard, boring and messy!

Plus, I am terrible at it. 

See my wonky-eyed cat below. 

The vines are all wrong, I stopped following the pattern on them after a while. I tried to carve poor kitty's whiskers, but they were too delicate and I ended knocking them off.  

I guess I can be satisfied that it (kind of) looks like a cat.

The husband said that he could tell it was a cat once he knew it was supposed to be a cat. 

Who could ask for a better endorsement?

Sist-A isn't a much better carver than I am (although the husband might disagree with me on that, as he seemed to love her pumpkin yesterday). She did pretty well on the spider, but ended up breaking the web since she carved from the outside-in. 

The level listed in our pattern books were from 1 to 4 pumpkins of difficulty. 

We chose 2 pumpkin designs. 

Thank goodness!

I'd probably still be carving if we had chosen any of the harder designs. 

We thought pumpkin carving wouldn't be so bad that we could handle a little more complexity.

We were wrong!

We are not level 2 pumpkin carvers.

Back to the remedial class for us. 

Oh well, I don't actually plan on doing this again. 

I can't believe I've actually done this before and thought this would be fun.

Pumpkin carving does suck, but the whole day wasn't a loss. 

The eating samples at Brennan's and taking home fancy salsa and chips part of the day was fun. (Next time, I'll skip the pumpkin carving and go straight to the chips and salsa part of the day) 

If I ever mention that I'm planning to carve pumpkins in the future, can someone please remind me of this? And if (and only if) I persist, could you possibly slap some sense into me?

Oh Playmate, come out and play with me

I was watching the Addams Family at the gym yesterday when I heard a song that my mom used to sing to us when my sister and I were little. 

It's kind of creepy in the context of that particular movie, but it made me all nostalgic. 

I had forgotten that song even existed. 

It's a bizarre form of delight to discover, somewhere buried in the cobwebs of my mind, memories of things I used to love. 

Here are the lyrics:

Oh playmate, come out and play with me

And bring your dollies three,

Climb up my apple tree.

Slide down my rain barrel,

Climb up my cellar door,

And we'll be jolly friends 

Forever more, more, more.

Oh playmate, I cannot play with you,

My dollie's got the flu,

Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo

Ain't got no rain barrel,

Ain't got no cellar door,

But, we'll be jolly friends,

Forever more, more, more.

Sucks to be you, Canada

I got an email from aerie.com advertising a sweepstakes they have going on. On a whim, a.k.a. thinking who doesn't want a trip to NY?!, I clicked on it and decided to read over the official rules.

Sweepstakes always make me nervous.

A small part of me is always suspicious that they are going to sneak something into the rules.

For example, by entering you have agreed to share any and all personal and financial information with any interested party from now until eternity.

OR by entering, you have agreed to forfeit your soul to aerie.

Stuff like that.

People NEVER read the fine print, so who knows what they could get away with.
Except me, I guess.

Anyway! I was reading the official rules and came across this little tidbit, "If a prospective winner is Canadian he or she will be required to correctly answer without assistance of any kind, a mathematical skill-testing question administered by telephone, email or other delivery method selected at the sole discretion of Sponsor"

What the fuck?!
You can't win sweepstakes in Canada unless you know some math?
That is so fucked up.
(Don't think too hard about the why. It will make your head hurt.)

Let's just hope they don't ask you to prove the Riemann Hypothesis, because that shit has never been solved.

For those of you interested, I declined to enter the sweepstakes. I don't really like aerie enough for $500 worth of goods, plus they called it a "spa and sparkle." That makes the snarky bitch inside of me want to hurt somebody. It's really best for everyone if I back away... slowly.

Boys are Dumb.

I wore a blazer to work today.

It's purple and velvety (not actual velvet, velvet-like cotton).

It's darker than in the picture. Much darker.

It's more like a dark plum, than magenta.

The hammer saw it and told me it was very "Hugh Hefner-esque."

Shut the fuck up, hammer.

A month or so ago, I wore a shirt with flowers on it to work. This is the conversation I had with one of my programmers, StubbornAss, about it.

SA: You look different today.

Me: Thank you.

Me: Um, wait a minute. You meant that in a nice way right.

SA: [laughs]

Shut the fuck up, StubbornAss.

What the hell is wrong with the boys in this office?

Let me explain the office rules to you since you don't seem to be getting it.

(Disclaimer: These rules may not apply to every girl)

Rule #1: Don't comment on my appearance.

We're not friends like that. We work together. I don't want to hear what you think about what I'm wearing or how I look.

Rule #2: If you really feel the need to comment on my appearance, it better damn well be a compliment.

Again, we're not friends like that. We work together. I don't want to hear what you think about what I'm wearing or how I look, but if you insist on telling me, it had better be a fucking compliment. Neither "interesting" nor "Hugh Hefner-esque" falls under this category.

And just for the record, this jacket is not "Hugh Hefner-esque." It fucking rocks. I don't care if you like it, you don't have to wear it.

Besides, if it's anything it's more "Joker-esque" if the Joker wore cute, fitted jackets. So there.