Jul 31, 2007
i feel, almost....invincible.
and i get all sort of weird-ass ideas.
so. if i run for President (why not? everyone else is. any day i expect to see my teacher from my high school Bible studies class announcing his candidacy.), here's my list of campaign promises.
and believe me, these will be kept.
CAMPAIGN PROMISE 1
any young up & coming star, upon the release of their first big movie/show/record, will immediately be issued a car and driver. no more of this inability to hold one's liquor and then drive home. or to a friend's house, their drug dealer or even to church. nope, never again.
no more Paris, Nicole, Lindsay or even that really cute guy from Prison Break. it's bad enough when they destroy someones property, but in the case of the Prison Break guy, kids died.
refusal to do so, or to "forget" you had a driver will immediately result in all your cash goin' back to the studio/label.
oh, and mandatory jail time. in a real jail. not this secluded Club Fed crap. for.the.whole.sentence.
*sigh* makes me wish for the good ol' days when the worst thing that happened was someone getting caught with hookers.
CAMPAIGN PROMISE 2
if you're convicted of a crime, you will do the time. no appeals. no "get outta jail free cards."
OJ & Barretta, i'm talkin' to you.
CAMPAIGN PROMISE 3
all desserts hereafter will be holy and void of all calories. consider them freebies, like carrots, celery, etc.
CAMPAIGN PROMISE 4
(lifted from one of my favorite movies, Fried Green Tomatoes) all supermodels under a size 12 will be banned from any and all ads. also, designers will establish their lines for said size 12 & up and will price them reasonably so the rest of us can afford to buy some without having to sell their children/pets/houses.
CAMPAIGN PROMISE 5
all abusers/abandoners of babies, children and animals will be drawn and quartered. i don't want to hear about liberty & justice for all. they forfeited their rights to that when they abused. 'nuff said.
oh, and Alton Brown will be secretary of good eats (a new post i'm creating), Donny Osmond my chief of staff and Clint Eastwood will be head of Homeland Security.
vote for me.
Jul 30, 2007
at Husband's work, the receptionist is *ahem* harrassing him.
and he's loving it.
matter of fact, i keep threatening to get him a t-shirt that says "Wife Tested - Recptionist Approved."
so the other day, the Husband decided to show the receptionist his college i.d., back in the late '80s.
she laughed. generally not something you want to hear about your picture.
"you look like a porn star," she said.
by jiminy, she's right. and, if you use the formula we use (we meaning my friends in high school when we were being silly) for his porn star name, he is now Tuna Elaine.
Dirk Diggler was already taken.
in other news....
i actually have planned dinner menus for this week. and went grocery shopping to boot.
tonight: chow mein
hey. at least it's a place to start.
our little Allison is off to a great adventure in Chi-Town. prayers, iffn you please, that she has a safe, fun trip and that Mom gets some rest and doesn't worry too much.
i blame our parents. i mean, sheesh - marrying for love?! what the $%*!@$ were they thinking?
but i'm not bitter. i'm letting it go.
Mondays never were my favorite day of the week. i don't mind working most days, and some days i actually enjoy what i do. but again, i find that the older i get, the less i like dealing with the people every.dang.day.
not sure what it's all about. is it because i'm older? am i bitter? do i just hate people? because, Gentle Reader, i'm telling you that if my patience gets any thinner, i'm gonna be the cranky neighbor we all had growing up.
remember? the one that bitched at you from their front door to 'get off my lawn, dagnabbit?!'
well, that's gonna be me soon.
actually, it's really not that i don't like people. i do. it's the dumb ones who either a) just don't get it and don't wanna or b) get it but just don't care.
maybe i need to become apathetic. but i just don't care, either.
in other news...
i'm trying to think of places to go here in Mostly Smoggy So. Cal. (or at least pretty dang close) for a weekend...besides San Diego.
i would so dig a weekend there, but the Husband isn't as hot for it..."why would i want to visit someplace i used to live?"
i say he never lived off the Bay or the ocean. and that's reason enough for me.
and yes, it has to be a weekend, because there's no vacation time for him...at least for his first year.
meantime, i'm looking for the Magic Pill that will change my attitude and make me less cranky.
especially at work.
Jul 28, 2007
Jul 26, 2007
not global warming.
not even Lindsay or Paris.
here's what i mean. i don't get how it can be when, on TV or movies or whatever, that right after a love scene (you know what i'm talkin' 'bout), when they cut to the next morning, the she in the he/she equation, wakes up the next morning with still-perfect hair, creamy skin, and looking like she just got out of the makeup chair.
which she did.
hell - these chicas often look better than they did the scene before, when the ravages of lust were taking their toll on their faces. and other places.
while i, in the real world, woke up this a.m. with one side of my hair STANDING STRAIGHT UP. mascara formed a map of the Continental United States under the eye opposite my scared straight hair. AND just to make it more fun was the zit forming, right where Washington DC would be.
not to mention the dried track marks of drool down my chin and neck.
all i can say is it's a damn good thing i got up before Brendan did. it might scare him enough to start wearing his sleep mask again, just to avoid that waking nightmare.
i feel like i'm on a press junket. i have no idea for what movie/book/whatever i should be being interviewed for. but if you'd like to play...
1. Leave me a comment saying "Interview me."2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.3. You will update your blog with a post containing your answers to the questions.4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. 5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
1. Tell me about high school, love it? hate it? Why? And do you go to reunions? Why or why not?
i liked high school. i hated-hated-HATED junior high. was tormented beyond belief then...and i went to a Christian private school.
i guess they weren't all very Christian, were they?
high school was something else different. it was the first time i had gone to a new school since kindergarten, so it was cool to reinvent myself. not that i could, but at least i could dream.
it was neat to be a new kid for once. my only terror was getting lost on my way to classes, but everyone was great. they showed me around.
i didn't go to any of the reunions for lots o' reasons...mostly because during my senior year - Crazy Auntie Kay (that i lived with) suddenly decided she couldn't afford to send me there any longer. nor did she mention to my mom about any financial difficulties, for if she had, i could've stayed there.
but she didn't. soooooo - rather than letting me take my GED, the family had a pow-wow and decided that i "needed the fun of a senior year."
so i had "fun." i started a high school in January where i knew no one. not a soul. at least when i started high school, i knew people from my junior high.
after the fun, and graduation, i couldn't see going to a reunion at the original high school: "so what happened to you?" what am i supposed to say? go into all the reasons why my auntie was suffering from serious mental problems? not worth it. and going to a high school i went to for two semesters? naaah.
2. If money wasn't in the picture, what is your dream job?
only one dream job? i got a million of them. unfortunately, there's also classes involved for a bunch of them. chef/catering. photography. party planning. and of course, if money were no object, then i would just go down to the baby store and buy me a couple. the Husband would get used to it, believe me.
but - if i really had one dream job, it would be the one i've had most all my life: writing. most specifically, the Great American Novel. not that i would necessarily be the American version of JK Rowling, but still.
then i could go on a real press junket. and y'all could go as my entourage (and you know who you are!)
3. Tell us how you met Brenden.
ah, Brendan. my sweetie.
Brendan & i were introduced through a friend of mine (hi Kristie!) and her mom, another Val. i had worked with Val when i was in college, so she knew me. Kris & i kinda knew each other from work (where i am now), but got to be better friends before and after she got married.
Brendan on the other hand, worked with Val via phone from a mail house down in San Diego. he was kvetching one day to Val about his love life (a friend of his put it this way: Brendan's motto is "Give me your psychos, your wackos and your drama queens. i'll date 'em, if i haven't already."
don't ask me what he's doing with me.
anywhooooooo - one day, Val told him she had a nice girl for him, but she was "kinda loud."
luckily for me, it didn't scare him. he called me one night and we talked for 2 1/2 hours.
that went well. we made plans to meet that weekend at Disneyland; he had free tickets and i had an annual pass.
we had our first kiss that night, by a bonfire in Frontierland. that was in 1994.
he proposed New Year's eve 1996 at midnight. while we were watching Dick Clark.
(not the most romantic, i know, but here's the thing: we have a tradition that we, on New Year's Eve, go out to a teppan restaurant (like Benehana's), and his idea was to propose there. but, as is tradition at those restaurants, unless you have a large group, you sit with strangers.
one of the chicks at our table was loud. really loud. like what could be heard in the next county loud. he was afraid everyone else would hear the proposal before i would.
so he made me stay up late (which, of course made me WAY cranky), saying he wanted to ring in the new year. so Miss CrankyPants played solitaire on his computer, bitching to myself the whole time. i snapped out of my funk long enough to kiss him at midnight when he said, "yes, it's a new year. a new beginning. time to start a new life."
and down he went on one knee and proposed. my response?
"are you serious?"
he laughed...well, let's see - i'm on one knee, i have a ring...you do the math, honey.
sometimes i'm not the quickest car on the track.
4. What's the best memory of your wedding day? only one? hmmmm. well, the bagpiper Kristie hired was cool...making my stepfather laugh when i leaned over during a prayer and told him i just flicked an aphid off my *ahem* bosom and realized that the videographer was taping the.whole.thing. and in our video, you can actually see the bug being sent to his kamakazi death.
but by far, the best memory was Brendan & i making our grand entrance to our reception to James Brown's "I Feel Good."
5. What is your greatest strength?
i'm not sure i have one. i think my sense of humor or optimism has truly carried me through some really dark places...and is still doing it to this day.
hey - it got you through this missive, didn't it?
Jul 25, 2007
August 9th is Blizzard Miracle day. go to Dairy Queen and buy a Blizzard. or two. or more. buy 'em and give 'em away. every single penny of the proceeds goes to the Children's' Miracle Network. here for more info.
more ideas for boxes for Chad, or any other brave solder away from the people they love.
- travel shampoos
- toothpaste, toothbrushes, mouthwash, floss
- foot powder
- lip balm
- razor blades
- playing cards (like UNO)
- crossword puzzle books
- AA batteries
- note pads & pens
- bug spray (w/ over 20% DEET, but not 100%)
- moist towelettes (baby wipes - i say get the ones for sensitive skin, in case some have a sensitivity to the scents
- paperback books
- rice krispy treats
- hard candy
- granola bars
- tuna packs
- beef jerky
- dried fruit
and, if you live in the southern part of Mostly Smoggy So. Cal, Ever After scrapbook stores is also collecting items and will ship for you...you can even donate cash to buy items and help contribute to shipping. email me if you want more info on that.
in other news...
my boss was back today after being out for two days ill. he says he still feels like crap. he did go to the doctor where they took blood, vampires that they are. of course, Dr. Random Thoughts has a diagnosis: TAKE A FREAKING LUNCH BREAK.
no, he never takes a lunch. no, he doesn't even eat at his desk. he will, however, eat a bag of chips and some cookies and call it food.
wrong. wrong. wrong.
now granted, i will admit that with my plus-size ass, i have rarely missed meals. but, after living with Diabetic Mom and Diabetic Boy, i do know this: regular meals = level blood sugar. level blood sugar = happy body. no crankiness (hey! maybe that's my problem!) and no exhaustion - energy to burn. karmas level. the moon in the 7th house, Jupiter aligns with Mars. blah, blah, blah.
so - we'll see what happens. i was accused (lovingly, i'm sure) of being a nagging mom. well if i can't have my own to nag, by george i'll nag someone else's kids. (nooooooo, Linda...i'm not talking about Allie....nooooooo)
for my last PSA - here it is: i have laundry to fold.
please help. give generously.
Jul 24, 2007
"...it's me....some.....day.......worst.......gas ever."
do i really need this? i know i married for better or worse, sickness and health, blah, blah, blah.
but does it really involve me hearing about his gas pains?
apparently my love should know no bounds.
like his gas.
we played phone tag for a few rounds. i bought cheese at the grocery store.
see? the day wasn't a total loss!
i talked to him finally.
me: so, how're ya doing mr. gassy pants?
me: what did you have for lunch?
him:(questioning tone) Chipoltle (a local burrito place. HUGE burritos)...why?
me: have you had it before?
him: yeeessssss. have you?
me: no. and it looks like i probably won't either.
me: well, that's probably what gave you the worst gas ever, right?
he pealed into hysterical laughter. i guess with boys AND men, gas is funny.
him: glasses (gasping for air). i broke my glasses and it was the worst break ever.
that was two hours ago. i think he's still laughing.
Jul 23, 2007
- the Husband tried to put a new horn in his truck. seems he was tired of the wimpy "beep beep" he had. so, on his last trip to a car parts swap meet, he bought a new one. a big-ass, Mack-daddy truck get the *beep* outta my way horn. it didn't fit. gonna look like he's trying to find a new one.
- coming home from Joanne's yesterday (bought some felt so i can make some flowers..yippee!), i see smoke. black smoke. from our place. not our apartment, but apparently the little arsonist trolls were at it again. in our dumpster. and about ten people including myself called 911. turns out our handyman and a another guy got most of it out before the firemen showed up. unfortunately, Brendan was there, otherwise i would've faked a heart attack. they were quite yummy.
- i am on a potato chip & french onion dip kick the last few days. not good for my cholesterol, waist line or bum line, but man. it.tastes.goood.
- yesterday we had breakfast at the Fullerton Municipal Airport. just a little dinky hole, maybe 15 tables, but you had a great view of the runway. especially fun with the families that were there with their small kids, watching their excitement as the planes would come in and take off. and of course, the Husband critiquing - he's had lots of ground school and some time behind the wheel...yoke...stick...whatever you call it. maybe this year will be the year he finally gets his pilots license.
- cannot believe it's almost August. this year, she'sa flyin' by. my parents will be celebrating their 33rd anniversary on the 2nd. and yes, i was in the wedding and yes, i got into trouble for thinking i was playing baseball and making a diving catch for the bouquet. outside. on grass. still in my bridesmaid dress. it's OK, though...it was yellow and i look like CRAP in yellow.
like i said. i live a boring life. it's a yawner. but if i can entertain you through my dull existence, well...my job here is done.
i'll be a better blogger. i promise.
Jul 19, 2007
i think that's what's going on here.
except that it's not that hot.
here's a few examples...
yesterday at the 2nd Happiest Place on Earth (aka work), i tried talking to my boss about a co-worker i was having problems with.
in case i never told you before - i'm very difficult to get along with.
my job, at 2HPOE, involves working reports for each directory we publish, ensuring that Graphics, my department, is clear on every section that is being sent to the printer. when i clear my reports, i notify everyone by email. sometimes my job is superhappyfun.
sometimes i want to cut fingers off. one joint at a time. not mine, of course.
i won't bore you with the mind numbing details of dealing with some of the ad designers. suffice to say that sometimes i no like what i do.
yesterday definitely falls into the latter category.
this guy i work with was in my work group, but, as we like to do a couple of times a year, we do a reorganization, move people around under different supervisors.
so, knowing how my boss loves the "chain of command," i went to him to bitch, er....express my concern over how he does his job, which is, clearing a report of ads that are in waiting, in other words, they are waiting to be received into our department.
his job directly effects mine. once his report clears, they go on to my report. so i need to know when he's clear, so i can call for new reports and not be blindsided when i find ads on a report for a phone book that's going to press.
so, my boss listened to my bitching...er expressions and suggested i go ahead and send my "all clear" email, include this guy on my list, which, he thinks, will jump start him into letting me know i could have new items on my report.
valerie no like. bad medicine.
it only took me a minute, but i actually protested. you see, while i am not a namby-pamby, many times when it comes to work issues, i really try to just go with the flow. not make waves. cooperate. just, not this time.
i told my boss i didn't think i should be responsible for doing this other fella's job, as well as mine. if i mess up on my job, it's my bum that gets kicked.
the same rules should apply.
i have to admit, i was a little surprised that i said it. out loud. to someone who could do something about it. but he agreed and said he would talk to this other fella's supervisor.
we'll see what happens. i really don't hold out much hope that this will change; i've been having the same problems with this fella ever since he's been doing this job.
but a girl can dream.
so. i told you that story to tell you this story.
went over to my parents yesterday after work. and my darling step-pop was cran-keeeee. and i'm not sure why, since it wasn't nearly as hot yesterday as it has been. but oy.
he was snippy. he was bitchy. kids, the man needed several Midol.
now granted, at 81, he has license to be cranky. but when he gets cranky, he gets mean. not physically, but he will say things that, in the past, would make me cry...sensitive kid that i am.
yesterday, i just wanted to take my mom for a mini vacation.
when i left, i had a headache. i can't even imagine what her head felt like.
and in other cranky news...the sunburn i got on my back from Saturday is starting to itch. which means a peel can't be far away.
maybe i'll employ our secretary to skin me. she does live for that crap.
and to end this lengthy prose (if you can call it that), today is my Jourdan's 15th birthday. they're coming down from the High Desert to meet with her grandma for dinner.
the girl wanted a polka dotted cake.
i therefore have made it my mission to get polka dotted balloons AND make a polka dotted card (photos later).
and if i could find a polka dotted shirt to give her, i so would. preferably something from the 80s that was loud & obnoxious.
but i'll settle for a PacSun gift card. i'm sure she will, too.
here's hoping today is less cranky, less peely and more happy happy joy joy.
Jul 17, 2007
there are a-holes out there.
yep. i know. how long have i been around? and i'm just figuring that out?
well, i'll qualify: some are aholes, some are just schmucks.
what's the difference?
an ahole is just mean. a schmuck just doesn't know any better.
case in point.
yesterday, while talking to my boss, our department assistant came up with some papers for him to look at. then she saw my arm. my leprosy ridden arm. the one i got a sunburn on and is now peeling.
you'da thought she won the lotto. practically jumping up & down she was, excited that my arm is peeling.
"can i peel it?!" she said, clapping her hands. seriously. she was clapping her hands.
the look on her face was like a child's when you tell them they cannot have the toy they want more than anything else in the world.
"please?" she beseeched. "i love peeling them, i won't hurt you and i really like it when it comes off in a big piece."
no. go get your own burn, i said.
she was truly disgruntled. so sorry, but you ain't a-peeling me. i am not your personal banana.
and lest you think i'm being unreasonable...know this: before she came down yesterday, she told my friend her stomach was upset. why? she had eaten some shrimp that had been in her car. all day.
that, Gentle Reader, is the definition of a schmuck.
now in case you need one for an a-hole, consider this:
someone tried to set a fire near the Husband's motorcycle in our carport.
i came home today to a note stuck in my door from our handyman...one super cool guy who really cares about what he does - a rarity these day, no?
he was fixing the parking gate over on the other end of our complex, when he happened to notice something and assumed it was trash he needed to pick up.
it was only when he got over there, he could see it was some charcoal briquettes and some slightly burned paper. most likely some pyro teenage boys thinking they were funny.
there's been a few other incidents...a fire started in a dumpster. someone trying to start a fire with old athletic shoes.
it's good to know, isn't it, that some people out there are soooo dumb, they don't even know how to set a good fire.
obviously they never were in Scouting.
there is a good laugh in all this...while our handyman was talking to the police (yes, he called them too, and submitted a report on our behalf), another tenant came by and chatted him up about what was going on, etc. then, this tenant said that we probably set the fire ourselves so we could get the insurance money.
riiiiiight. we're gonna set fire to our own crappy stuff, possibly lose the entire carport and people's goods AND risk jail time so we can get a few hundred dollars.
wait! i think it's another schmuck on the list!!
hopefully they know how to build a good fire.
happy birthday, farmgirl!! yes, the nickname still makes me giggle...mostly because it's so much better than a nickname i had in junior high...fishface (because my last name was Fisher).
happy, happy. when you make a wish and blow the candle out, i'll be rooting that you do get your wish...sooner rather than later.
(and before you send me emails, it's only because i don't know your birthday. let me know, because i am ALL about birthdays. in case you didn't know...)
Jul 15, 2007
we watched the beach fill up.
not too shabby, eh?
Jul 13, 2007
tomorrow is our 9th annual after a six year hiatus beach party.
believe me when i tell you that D-Day's invasion was less stressful.
the Husband is completely wigging me out. and i don't wig easy.
he has mentioned more than once, to have kosher dogs for one of his work friends. the man doesn't eat kosher. he just likes the dogs.
the same non-kosher eating man apparently has a rapier wit. the Husband has said time and again this past week to "be prepared."
apparently during the 12 years Husband & i have been together, he has learned that i am a shrinking violet. a namby-pamby who isn't sarcastic and is afraid to speak her mind.
now if he would also see i am a voluptuous blonde who wears a size 8 and stilettos, we'd be good.
i know what the real deal is: he wants this to be as perfect as possible. it's like getting in with the cool kids and wanting them to like you. he wants them to like him and i can't blame him for that.
i've had a little experience planning parties. i planned our freaking wedding, for gosh sakes!! i research. i plan. i execute. i, in many cases, over plan and overbuy because it's always better to have too much than not enough.
face it: no one bitches if it's good. only if it's bad.
but i'm telling you if i have to hear one more time about a damn kosher dog...well, it's gonna be cooking someplace no one ever thought of before.
you just won't want to eat it.
Jul 12, 2007
10 Great Memories from Your Childhood
1) going with my uncle to AAA league games growing up in Long Beach. just a great daughter-daddy time that made growing up less uggy.
2) back to my uncle...again. i would walk every.damn.day. a little over a quarter of a mile, crossing a major street to meet him as he took the bus home from work. i was probably about four or five. heck, i wouldn't even let the four year old niece cross the back yard now without watching her.
3) getting letters from pen-pals when i was about 9 or 10. i had joined the Pioneer Girls @ church, and signed up for their pen-pal program. i got about a gazillion letters. and tried to answer every bloody one. (i thought it would be good practice for when i became a World Famous Author and would have to answer all that fan mail)
4) being Queen of the Circus. i know i've talked about it before, but it really was the first time i ever won anything.
and i met Mel Torme. niiiiice.
5) my first kiss. i was 15. he knew i'd never been kissed and said i just looked kissable. i did have a little bit of a crush, so it was pretty sweet.
6) ditto the only time a guy i really, really, really liked stroked my hair, coming home from a Dodgers game. i thought my life could not get any better.
7) at 17, i was named to the Editorial Staff for the Pot of Gold, the state newspaper for California Rainbow Girls. holy crap. my name got announced in front of a few thousand screaming hormonal teenage girls. the other girls in my assembly jumped on me. i never even heard my name. i just started crying.
8) finally getting a part in a school play. then it turned on me because i got total stage fright. niiiice.
9) bringing my favorite doll (who was as tall as i was) to Sunday School...and getting into arguments with the Sunday school teacher who insisted my doll wasn't a real person.
lesson learned? never tell a child that imagination is wrong.
10) not exactly a childhood memory, but finding toys i loved as a kid on eBay, bidding and winning brings back some killer memories. even though i can't give them to kids of our own, i plan on giving to Miss Erin when she gets older...and play with them and her.
there's mine. where's yours?
Jul 11, 2007
i would be oh so happy to win el lotto just so i could stay at home. heck, i even tried the argument about being a stay-at-home mom for the sake of the cat.
Husband didn't buy it.
even though it's been not necessarily the most relaxing couple of days, it still beats being at work with all the insanity going on there.
see, we make phone books. nothing earth shattering, and definitely nothing that will cure any diseases. and my job in this is to work oodles of reports so that when we send books to press, there are no incomplete spots on the pages that go to press.
some days it's ho-hum. some days i need to clone myself so i can actually get something done.
and, since i've been off, we've been sending a large book to the printer. so when i go back tomorrow, it'll still be in da house.
but despite the fact that there's not been much relaxing and lotsa shopping/running around for the beach party this weekend, i still would rather do that than be at work.
in other news...
speaking of the beach party, one of our guests hit up Brendan to make sure it was OK to bring his kids.
of course it is, we're very kid-friendly in the Mostly Smoggy So. Cal beach party planning committee. but then he wanted to know if there were going to be other younger kids there.
besides the hosts, that is.
could be. i have a couple of friends that have younger kids that i assume will be bringing them.
OK - i just wanted to know if there was going to be something for them to do, he says.
wait...what? something for kids to do?? at the beach?!
holy crap! have we as a society raised a generation of young'uns that are so fixated on video games and what not that they don't know how to have fun at the beach?!
man. i hope that's not it. but between sand, surf, boogie boards, volleyball and badmition, these kids should not be bored.
if they are, then dagnabbit i'm a-gonna duct tape their butts to a beach chair and tell 'em about the days before MTV, Guitar Hero and our hot video game system was the Atari 2600.
Jul 9, 2007
so here's another one.
a quick show-off of a challenge i did from Donna Downey's Creative Playground newsletter...Trash to Treasure. use a merchandise/price tag off some clothing. and i found this one off a new pair of capris i got on sale @ Mervyns.
funny guy. he does a shtick about people being so dumb, that they should wear signs.
here's an example:
i had a guy in my home, giving me an estimate on remodeling. he goes in my den, and on the wall is a mounted deer head. guy says, "didja shoot that?" i said, "nope. dang thing just ran through my wall."
here's your sign.
well - i had my own here's your sign moment today.
while on my search for more party supplies, i decided to run over to Home Depot and see if they had any firewood.
makes sense, right?
so after searching the garden center, and finding nothing, i find Amber. she's cute. she's short. she's probably in her early 20s and was a cheerleader. (no angry emails. i have nothing against cheerleaders. she was just really, really perky.)
i ask her where they would have firewood. she responds it would be at the end of aisle 12, with the charcoal.
but, she says, we probably don't have any, because it's seasonal.
excuse me? i say.
it's seasonal, she says. y'know, a summer thing.
1) it's July
2) it's summer, therefore
3) it's seasonal.
all i could choke out was "well, it's a good thing it's summer then; it's seasonal."
she didn't say anything.
probably thinking dumb broad, doesn't she realize we're preparing for fall? sheesh. and she thinks she's sooooo cool because she got her nose pierced. i hate when old people try to be cool.
me too, honey. but i hate it when people are dumber than they need to be.
by the way - i got my firewood. at the grocery store.
they knew what seasonal means.
holy freaking golden nuggets...how and why in the world did we outgrow/refuse to take 'em?
'cause they rock. really.
OK - i think i can let the glory and wonder of naps go for just a minute.
i took off today, tomorrow & wednesday to just rest. chill. and nap. and even finish up some shopping for the beach party this weekend.
heck, i even cleaned house. which, for me, is saying something.
but what really is dangerous for me, is the feeling i get when i do take time off...the feeling of "i never EVER want to go back there again."
probably not a good thing.
but what are my options but TO work? i'm too young to retire, too chicken to quit and more importantly, i still have to work...the Husband is all about contribution to the household. heck, he even badgers the cat about "pulling his weight."
the cat, obviously, is not interested.
but oh, it's tempting. very, very tempting. just think of all the naps i could get in.
Jul 8, 2007
we're finishing up our shopping for our 9th Annual After a Seven Year Hiatus Beach Party next weekend. we had breakfast out, went to a movie (Live Free or Die Hard-quite good...i like Bruce Willis!).
at the movie, i kept feeling a pain in my left bumcheek. i didn't think it was my back issues, they usually hit on my right side. but it was near my hip, so i wondered if my arthritis was getting worse...but it's not winter, so it should be better, and...
great. now i'm sounding like my grandmother.
after a quick potty break, i came back to our seats and viola! instant pain again!
i kept shifting around in my chair...positive that the people behind me were thrilled with my capers. i can't even tell you how many times i felt up my bum, just to make sure that there wasn't a spring poking me. nothing.
i was starting to believe i was the Princess with the pea.
on my last grope, i found the cause of my pain for the last 45 minutes.
my Costco card.
yes, kids, i had my card in the side pocket of my skirt and was being impaled with it.
not the sharpest knife in the drawer, huh?
in other news...the Husband woke up yesterday with some funky blisters on his forefinger. first, i thought he burned himself, then i realized we haven't BBQd since the 4th. so, i'm thinking, it's likely a bug bite. or two. or three.
but will he go to the ER? nooooooooo. are they getting bigger? yesssssssssssss.
but no doctor for him. he's gonna "wait and see."
what is it about guys? they can whine about the least little things, but not do what they need to.
a few years ago, he got another bite. no blisters, but his hand started swelling. and swelling. but would he go to the ER? nope. i finally had to hit him with a brick, drag him into the car and off to ER for shots.
he left a few minutes ago to check out something at work...maybe, he said, he'd go to the hospital afterwards.
boys. go fig.
in other news...i now have some welts on the back of my hand. no bites from critters, just a scratch or two from Elvis, after i inadvertently whacked him in the head. oh, and did i mention i also have a sunburn? on my right arm? my lily white arm?? FROM DRIVING IN HIS TRUCK YESTERDAY?!
and yes, both Buggy White Boy & i have purchased SPF 60 for next weekend. otherwise, we will both look like the lobsters we had a few weeks ago.
complete with green goo.
which will be good, in case the zombies attack Buena Park.
Jul 7, 2007
from, let's say, 123postcard.com. "a school-mate sent you a greeting!"
or "a greeting card from a relative!"
well, hell - how did you know they were either a school mate or a relative?
you don't. you sneaky schmuck. don't tease me.
i got caught only once in the last few weeks since they've been flooding my e/box. not because it had a name of someone i knew, but because i thought it was for real. AND it said americangreetings.com. thankfully, nothing happened to our system.
but some i've been getting have attachments...oh boy. THAT'S computer fun for your repair guy!
i asked the Husband if he had gotten any. he didn't know. and he doesn't know because he doesn't check his e/mail, no, it's because he has over a thousand unopened emails in his box.
yep. thousand. 1,000.
if i don't know, i don't open, he says. well, i don't open either, but hey, i at least mark it as spam and delete it!
once, a few months back, i thought i would be the Good Wife and clean up his in box.
good grief. watching a film on the mating habits of the common housefly would've been more stimulation.
i gave up after about 30 minutes. at that point i figured that if, at 47, he doesn't want to clean out his in box, then i don't need to be his "mommy" and do it for him.
'sides, i'm kinda hoping he gets a greeting from a class-mate. or a relative. either way, i'm good.
Jul 6, 2007
sorry. it had to be said.
there are good reasons: the weather (most of the time), really close beaches and mountains, killer mexican food...Disneyland.
then there's the smog, the traffic, Disneyland, and grocery store strikes.
yes, for the second time in recent history, the Big Three are likely going out on strike.
doesn't that sound like fun?
we have Ralphs(owned by Krogers), Vons & Albertsons, Stater Bros. then there's a few independent stores. right now, it looks like Raphos, Vons & Albertsons are going out.
there's been no contract since April. and it looks like it's going to happen soon.
this happened before. the year we did our road trip to northern California, they had been on strike before, during AND after we came home.
doesn't that sound like fun?!
not a big fan of Stater Bros. Trader Joe's is a fun and much better option. it just involves driving, and while we do a lot of that here, driving with groceries ain't fun.
but it could be worse...the bus drivers here could go on strike, too.
Jul 5, 2007
i'm sitting here, dinner is cooked (just needs to be reheated).
and although the work blows BIG time right now, i'm watching a Travel Channel special on DisneyWorld (wishing we were back there) and enjoying a deelish glass or two of Rodney Strong's Sauvignon Blanc.
Rodney, btw, owns a winery up in northern California that Brendan remembered from when he lived up in Santa Rosa. when we went up there a few years ago we came home with a case of wine from all different wineries there.
and speaking of wineries - as well as places to relax...
over at Disney's California Adventure in Disneyland, they have a wine pavilion. you can have dinner, dinners paired with wines, learn about wine and how the grapes grow (complete with real.live.vines). you can even (my favorite) get a snack of fruit, cheese & crackers with a couple of glasses of liquid love, and, sit up on the balcony and watch the Electrical Parade.
that's my idea of dealing with crowds.
and it's good.
p.s. - i would've posted a photo of me enjoying my glass, but the one i took...well...i really looked like a psycho. so never mind.
enjoy this rerun, won't you? i think it'll make everything clear.
the best laid plans...
oft' go to hell in a handbasket.
I'm home right now. I should be in Mexico, drinking beer & eating lobster tails
Saturday night. B & i are up in Hesperia, at our friends for a BBQ. We have eaten steak (yum), seen fireworks & are now gathered in the living room for a yak fest.
And here's where it goes to hell in a handbasket.
Someone comes running in, saying something that sounds like "your husband broke his finger."
Broken finger? Brendan? Nahhh.
He comes in the house, his face the color of concrete. My friend's mom, another Valerie, is behind him. He has a towel over his hand, and i see blood.
Blood. Not good.
So, believe it or not, i MAKE him sit down. He was just standing there, looking all loopy. He sits, and i pulled back the towel on his hand and thought, "hey, this doesn't look too bad."
Then he turned his hand over.
(here comes the gross part)
There's a laceration about 1/2 long, and deep. How deep? Deep enough so i can see his bone.
Sing with me, kids! Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Off To The Hospital We Go.
I won't give a blow by blow of all 5 hours there in Emergency. Sufficed it to say he got 5 stitches, and luckily, didn't break it, only dislocated it. One or two good pulls by a cute blonde PA. (and surprisingly, whenever she walked in his treatment room, suddenly his pain level went up 150%), and he was good to go. Literally. A tetanus shot & antibiotics followed.
So needless to say, we decided against Mexico.
But how did this happen, you ask?
My darling, wonderful, usually intelligent husband decided he was going to ride TWO Razor scooters at once.
Hit a rock.
Down you fall.
If there's a lesson to learn (and there is), it's this: don't think you're Evel Knevel at 45.
It ain't gonna happen. All you'll get is a trip to emergency.
And 5 stitches.
Jul 4, 2007
so. direct from the Old Spaghetti Factory in Fullerton, CA, it's Brendan's birthday!!
more than a feeling (with apologizes to Boston).
more than the ability to have a day off in the middle of the week.
more than buying fireworks, BBQs, beach parties and SPF 50.
more than Disneyland.
more than fireworks show.
it's about men like my stepfather who put themselves in harms way and lived to tell the tale.
and for those who didn't.
i thank them all.
it's about young men and women...some still kids...willing to go to places, some where they are not welcomed with open arms. again putting themselves in harms way.
it's about Chad George and thousands like him.
thanks to him. and thanks to Jolene, Mark and the rest of your family for sharing him with us.
Happy July 4th.
Jul 3, 2007
the Husband, ehhhh-not so much.
one year for Christmas, he bought tickets to see The Producers, when it was here in L.A.
he fell asleep.
he said it was because he didn't feel good. then, it was because it was so hot in the theater.
whatever. i dang near peed myself laughing at them.
even as a young minon, i would go with my mom, and friends, and whoever i could get to, to go to Long Beach Civic Light Opera, or other local theaters.
and being partial to musicals, well...that is just the icing on the cake.
and my best girl, Kristie, saw Wicked last night. in NYC.
again, i'm not bitter.
but it just reminded me of different plays i've seen: Mame. the King and I and others. just good entertainment.
and i dug every one of em.
most productions i saw were amatures, but there were some celebrities.
Belinda Carlisle (from the Go-Gos) and Barry Williams (YES. Greg Brady) together. in Grease.
and my favorite one: Cinderella.
Rogers & Hammerstein. not Disney. not that i have anything against the Mouse, but this is just so classic...i remember seeing it on TV in black and white with Leslie Ann Warren - *sigh*
so, in my 20s, when we had the chance to see Cinderella in Long Beach, Mom & i jumped at it.
this production only had one celebrity in it. Greg Louganis.
did you know he could act? apparently neither did he.
i know. that was catty and mean. but i swear, this had to be the very first time he ever stepped out on a stage. without rehearsals. poor guy forgot more than half his lines, and since he couldn't sing, period, he did a Rex Harrison and sang/spoke through his songs.
think William Shatner singing his version of "Rocket Man." you'll get the idea.
but it didn't turn me off. i still love musical theater. still want to see Wicked.
still think Greg shouldn't act. stick to swimming, my friend. you truly rock at that.
1) i want kids
2) i'm a sarcastic snot
3) i usually have something to say about everything.
so color me speechless.
thanks, Jenny! according to her, i rock because i have a nose piercing, i plan parties and i make her hungry with all my food yakking.
does this make me certifiable?
so now i'm to pay it forward. and that's hard because all of y'all rock me in one way or another.
i'll post my findings tomorrow..
i really don't. but it's OK to believe. i can assure you that when you find out i really don't rock, it'll be less traumatic than finding out about Santa, or the Easter Bunny...
but they do exist. 'nuff said.
so, with no further ado, courtesy of both these ladies, i present this week's meme:
1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? allegedly, there was some TV or movie star named Valeria. unfortunately my mom doesn't remember who it was.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? sheesh. when am i not crying? i cry at Hallmark commercials. i cry at this one song (who's name i can't remember), "and i thought i was tough...", i cry at holding babies, at good steaks and at green goo coming out of my lobster.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? depends. when i'm drinking, i have the best writing EVER. then i sober up.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE LUNCH MEAT? roast beef. please, no lectures on red meat and what i'm doing to my arteries.
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? one husband, one cat. i'll let you guess which is the most trouble.
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? likely. but i'd probably bitch to myself on how i think i'm all that.
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? serious?
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? yes, dammit. when i was a kid, i would pray they would go south so i would have to eat ice cream for days. now i'm a grown up. i buy my own damn ice cream.
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? why jump off a perfectly good bridge? or building?
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? LUCKY CHARMS ROCKS!!!!
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? most of my shoes are slip ons. i don't have enough coordination to tie 'em.
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? no. my perfume is light and i wear deodorant. wait...that wasn't what you meant, is it?
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Haagen Daaz vanilla. Ben & Jerry's Strawberry Cheesecake. Coldstone's Birthday Cake Remix.
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? eyes. hands, if it's a guy.
15. RED OR PINK? blue. (ain't i a rebel?!)
16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? my arms and my butt. i got my grandmother's arms, meaty and (i hope) comforting. Cyn, i will yu my butt when i go.
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? my Uncle Jimmy. and lately my grandmother.
18. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? what are pants? oh, i've said too much.
19. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? cheesecake spread and graham crackers. yumo.
20. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? CSI.
21. IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOUR WOULD YOU BE? cobalt blue
22. FAVORITE SMELLS? citrus
23. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? Senor Cranky Pants - AKA the Husband.
24. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? i like both of them!
25. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? badmition.
26. HAIR COLOUR? brown
27. EYE COLOUR? blue
28. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? nope. can't stand to get something in my eye, much less deliberately put something in.
29. FAVORITE FOOD? anything i don't have to cook.
30. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Happy endings especially when there is a massage involved. (oooh! me too, Cyn!)
31. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? hmmmm....
32. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? white. it symbolizes purity (stop laughing!)
33. SUMMER OR WINTER? Winter. The less sweating the better! (amen that Cyn!)
34. HUGS OR KISSES? yes!
35. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Susie
36. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? ???
37. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? still working on the Reagan diaries. not nearly as interesting as i thought it would be.
38. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? nothing...
39. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT? i remember watching Good Eats before i fell asleep...
40. FAVORITE SOUND? ocean waves.
41. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Beatles.
42. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? i was gonna say Mexico, but i still think being in Philadelphia last year was farther. it certainly was longer, which made it seem farther!
43. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? are you kidding? some days i'm lucky i can get dressed.
44. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Long Beach.
45. WHAT SUPERPOWER WOULD YOU LIKE? i'd love to fly. but i'd also want to be able to fly into the future and tell people if they get their fondest dreams.
i tag you, now!
Jul 2, 2007
never having been.
but my best friend Kristie is there with her mom and her kids.
and i got an text on my phone...they saw Wicked tonight.
i'd love to hate her, but i'm too busy being happy for her.
and hoping her vacation is as much fun as she deserves.
have fun, girl. tell the Boy to spit off the Empire State building for Auntie Vowel.
it's something i would do.
Jul 1, 2007
for you boys out there..sorry. just get a beer. it'll be all over with soon enough.
Mid-life is when the growth of hair on our legs slows down.
This gives us plenty of time to care for our newly acquired mustache.
In mid-life women no longer have upper arms, we have wing spans. We are no longer women in sleeveless shirts, we are flying squirrels in drag.
Mid-life is when you can stand naked in front of a mirror and you can see your rear without turning around.
Mid-life is when you go for a mammogram and you realize that this is the only time someone will ask you to appear topless. (ain't that the truth.)
Mid-life is when you want to grab every firm young lovely in a tube top and scream, "Listen honey, even the Roman empire fell and those will too."
In mid-life your memory starts to go. In fact the only thing we can retain is water. Mid-life means that your Body By Jake now includes Legs By Rand McNally -- more red and blue lines than an accurately scaled map of Wisconsin .
Mid-life means that you become more reflective . . . You start pondering the "big" questions.
What is life?
Why am I here?
How much Healthy Choice ice cream can I eat before it's no longer a healthy choice?
But mid-life also brings with it an appreciation for what is important. We realize that breasts sag, hips expand and chins double, but our loved ones make the journey worthwhile. Would any of you trade the knowledge that you have now, for the body you had way back when? Maybe our bodies simply have to expand to hold all the wisdom and love we've acquired.
That's my philosophy and I'm sticking to it!
last night we headed out to a new BBQ place we found on the 'net. it's kind of our life's work to find some absolutely faboo BBQ that makes us fall to our knees.
(i know, April, we need to go to Texas. perhaps some day...)
this was a small place, perhaps 20 tables with two other people there. it does seem bad, i know, but this place is smack-daub in the middle of an industrial park. we figure they do most of their business in catering and in lunch.
'sides, any place that Elmer Dills likes, must be good.
and it was.
ham and brisket for him. brisket and pork for me. and on the TV, video of guys doing stunts on their motorcycles.
kinda odd. but most entertaining.
a chick behind the counter told Husband they even smoke & BBQ turkeys for the holidays.
i could be all over that.
later, it was Dairy Queen for dessert. we sat on the tailgate eating a Peanut Buster parfait (him) and a French Silk pie blizzard (moi), watching teenage boys trying stunts with their scooters.
don't worry. he didn't pull his scooter out of the truck and try to join them.
just another warm summer's evening.
walking by, on her way in, was a skinny Miss Hottie. i didn't pay attention, but of course he did. and muttered under his breath as she passed.
"i told her that someday she was gonna be old like us."
nice. now i'm old.
because i know you live to know every mind-numbing detail of my life, here's my agenda for today:
* he's going to work for a few hours
* i'm getting a pedicure
that's a Pleasant Valley Sunday.