bless you.

sick.
bad cold.
head hurts.
too much snot.
(too much information?)
lotsa NyQuil.
Husband getting it now.
i'm not popular.



(speaking of, he's going back for a second interview as we speak. more info...)

speak up, i can't see you.

y'know, the Rolling Stones really were visionaries when they said 'what a drag it is getting old.'

visionaries, i tells ya..

not that i want any of 'Mother's Little Helper,' although after today...

as you know, i'm not single. i'm not even bi.

however, i am tri.

as in trifocals.

tri-fo-cals.

dude. that soooooooooooooo sucks. in three ways from Sunday.

sorry. it had to be said.

i knew i was buying time, really. it's been harder and harder to read small print on things @ work.

but holy crap, kids. trifocals?! nothing like that to remind me that i ain't a kid.

dammit - my stepfather is 81. he doesn't have bifocals, much less trifocals. my mom is 66 and she doesn't have 'em, either.

must be from dad. thanks, dad. first you left AND you left me with your crappy eyesight.

what the heck. i gotta blame someone.

AND since we were at Costco (where, as you know, you can get EVERYTHING, even a casket), my husband, dear sweet kind Brendan, said perhaps we could look for a walker for me.

niiiice.

heck, even my mother jumped on the dumpbandwagon and said the SPCA would probably have a good place to find a seeing-eye dog.

ah, the love of family.

trifocals. dude. that's SO wrong. and do you think it would be easy finding a pair of glasses i could use for tris? oh heck no. every cute pair i picked up didn't have large enough lenses.
oh. sorry. i guess i'll get these big ass bug eye glasses in orange. especially since i look soooo good in orange.

but thankfully, for my vanity's sake, i did find a pair of cute dark rose metal frames. not as cute as the green & black ones i really wanted, but the lens wasn't big enough (insert sarcastic, smart-ass tone here).

so let's see. i now have trifocals. i have arthritis, AND i started taking meds for acid reflux.

what a drag it is getting old.
hey. maybe i DO want some of Mother's Little Helper. i'd still have the same problems, but crap - i just wouldn't care.

think i can get that @ Costco?

it's so freaking hot.

i know. not nearly as hot at it is in Arizona, but here...it's pretty stinking hot.

the back of our apartment gets ALL the mid-day sun, cooking the place in it's own natural juices.

the cat is threatening to find a family in the Arctic. so am i.

the air conditioning unit in this hellhole sucks. it was moved from it's original place by the door, where it would do some good, to a place near the kitchen.

across from a wall.

where the cool air just sits.

not to mention what it does to our electric bill.

so i have fans blowing hot air around. not to mention the hot air we produce.

and i have a bottle of cold water.

under my chin.

keeping my chest cool.

and my shirt unbuttoned. i'm not a bit excited to see my own boobage, but the Girls need a good airing.

i'm so ready for winter.

the Big D.

so when last we visited, Dan & i were in Deming, NM, with a broken-down truck filled to the rafters with electrical equipment, on our way to a convention in Dallas.

we even had to argue with the rental company to give us a new truck. they just wanted to repair what we had. but, Dan prevailed and after a day and a half delay, we were back on the road.

we drove straight through, barely stopping to eat, snoozing as we went. after all, we were on a timetable. and driving through the Southwest was, shall we say, interesting.

storms there alot y'know.

we got into Dallas late at night - it was raining. it was cold. butt cold. windy. we were tired. i, being the princess, was not reasonable. i was a tired, unreasonable, cold, pissy princess.

that's the worst kind.

and of course, since it was so late, the only place for us to park was in overflow parking for the hotel.
at the bottom of a San Francisco-type hill. y'know, steep.

and we walked up the hill. against the wind and rain and no matter which way i turned my face, the wind and rain were right there, kissing me all over.

just not feeling the love.
i started to cry. i was no longer the plucky heroine with her stalwart boyfriend. i was now reduced to my true self: a whining, childish, 'this isn't FAIR,' feet-stomping, tantrum throwing chick.

think of PMS on steroids. yep. not a good scene.

i sobbed the whole way up the hill, into the hotel lobby, up to the front desk, then into the elevator, up to the room.

Dan just kept rubbing my back.

when we got in the room, the first thing he did was head into the bathroom, not to commit suicide from the psycho girlfriend, but to start a hot bath. then, he pushed me in there and told me not to come out until i was ready to fall asleep and drown.

i'm still crying. heck, i don't even want my mommy at this point.

i wasn't going to get in the tub, i was too pouty. then, i thought of something and sputtered,
'i....c-c-c-can't...take.....a....bath (sob, sniffle, gasp)..i...don't have....clean....clothes.'

he just smiled that freaking killer smile he had that would always turn me to mush. and yes, it worked this time, too.

'no worries. i'll go down and get our stuff.'
'bbbbbbut....it's raining.' over emotional princess said.
he just smiled again.
'it's OK, honey. get in the tub.'

twenty minutes later, i felt like a new girl. i have no doubt he wasn't gone that long, because if i were him, i'da been in the hotel bar tossing back some stiff ones.

the next day was the convention. we got the supplies back to the convention center, all the guys started setting up, and i was given carte blanche to roam and explore. just come back by 5, when the show closes.

man. i am SO off to Six Flags!!

am i not the biggest dork ever? most chicks would be exploring the malls, finding cutie little shops. nope. not me. i'm off to an amusement park.

that i got lost to.
then i found it was closed during the week.
then i got lost going back to the convention center.

oh Lord, i prayed, tell me what i have done to anger You. i'm sorry for everything and anything, believe me, just please, Lord, let me live through this trip.
i seriously was beginning to think i was never going to make it out of Texas alive.

i made it back to the convention center in plenty of time. however, apparently out there, they have THUNDERSTORMS FOR NO APPARENT REASON. WITH HAIL. BIG HAIL.

and i of course have no umbrella. no hoodie. and i am stuck in the car, in the parking lot, needing to pee sooooooo bad, my skin is turning yellow and my blue eyes are now green. i cannot get out of the car, it's coming down too hard. and it isn't helping my bladder, either.

Gentle Reader, steel yourself. i am about to embarrass myself to you in a way i probably haven't up to this point.

i opened the car door as little as i could, tossed out what was left of my 32oz soda, climbed into the back of the truck, and yep...i let 'er loose.

and i cried again. because i am such a freaking baby at this point that i think my life is over because i've peed in a cup in a truck in a convention center parking lot. what.the.beep!

that was the worst day. the rest of the week was actually pretty fun. i hung out at the center and when i wasn't working the booth, i would go eat free Haagen Daas ice cream bars. play free games and win stuffed animals. (Christmas was a ton of fun that year, i can tell you) they even had free carnival rides you could try, but i was a little too chicken for that.

i have been to Dallas since. but a) for work and b) i flew. we had a hailstorm, but i was inside, and much, much less the whiny pouty princess i was. the Husband wants to take me for fun.

i'm just not sure i'm up to that, yet.

oh boo-freaking--hoo.

as we all know, there are some horrible things going on in this big wonderful world of ours.

this post is not about them.

it's.about.me.
which is why i have a blog. duh.

our story begins last night, when Husband's optometrist called that his glasses were finally fixed.
(backstory on that - about three weeks ago, the Husband asked me to take his glasses back to said optometrist, the temple had broken. again. they originally said a couple of days. and like i said, that was three weeks ago. they didn't call until the Husband called the optometrist directly to let him know the issue...it went along with the fact that a month and half ago he had his eyes examed, ordered new frames and that's the last he heard from them. there have always been issues with the staff, the doctor, however, is wonderful)

so the husband asked me to pick them up for him tonight...which of course i did.

tonight. which is Bunco night.

every played bunco? it's a dice game i play with 12 other girls. it's kinda like Yatzee, only there's money involved, snacks and with any luck, good wine. usually good laughs to boot.

so no cooking for me. hip-hip-hooray!! but i still gotta eat. and nothing is sounding good for me. my stomach has been reacting to lotsa stress lately, so for any of you having tummy issues, you know what i mean.

then, it jumped out at me: slice o pizza. i know, probably not the best, especially the acidic tomato sauce. but it just sounded good. 'sides, i'm a freak. i LOVE cheese pizza the best.

i also do not like hot drinks. go ahead and shake your heads.

so i got my slice. now of course, i need dessert. (well, i don't need dessert, but...)and as luck would have it, one of these is next door to the pizza place.

and i've been jonesin' for a Birthday Cake Remix for over a month now.

they were freaking out of cake batter ice cream!!!!!!!! what the..?!!!

it's not that they don't have other flavors. other mix-ins i could've chosen. but dagnabbit, i wanted birthday cake remix! (insert sound effect of stomping feet and a good ol' fashioned temper tantrum)

so i got a vanilla bean remix. vanilla ice cream with sprinkles, fudge and brownie bits.

it was ok. *sigh* just not a birthday cake remix.

and while i know it's so insignificant, considering what's really going on in this world, it's hopefully good for a laugh.

so if you can laugh at me, maybe the outside world won't seem so sad.

and i still want my birthday cake remix, dammit.