do the clam!

i, and others of my generation, have it good.

when we were growing up, we had some interesting role models. old traditions of what women are and should do were being shattered. women re-entered the workforce en mass. they worked (and still do) on destroying the glass ceiling. they burned their bras.

well, two outta three ain't bad.

but my point is, to quote a certain old cigarette commercial, we've come a long way, baby.

except for me.

Gentle Reader, i am a baby. bay-bee. however, i can rescue spiders (i hardly ever kill 'em, i try to set 'em free) - i don't freak out at bugs, snakes or sales. (don't get me started on the missing "chick genes," that the Husband says are gone...that's another post)

but when it comes to my food - it needs to be different. how different?

like not look like it's original packaging.

here's an example: not long after we got married, we went out to dinner with friends to a seafood restaurant called the Crab Pot. they had a special called, you guessed it: the Pot. it was a traditional New England seafood boil: potatoes, corn, shrimp, and whatever else - dumped on the paper-covered table in front of you.

it's most neanderthal in nature. grunt, grab and grub. i have no problem with that...except...

the shrimp had eyes. because their heads were still on!!

ew-ew-ew-ew-ew-ew-ew-ew.

couldn't do it. just couldn't do it. i really like my food to, well...not look like it's original packaging.

my pork can't look like Porky. my steaks not like Bossy and my fish should not, under any circumstances, look like Nemo.

fast forward to last night.

dinner started with the most faboo clam chowder ever. EVER. then came a bowl of clams & mussels. never having either in the shell, well... it was an experience, but they were good.

then came the centerpiece of the dinner: a whole Maine lobster. do let me repeat that: whole.Maine.lobster. with antenna. with eyes.

holy freaking crap.

neither of us have had any experience with a whole lobster. or crab, either. when we've gone to Mexico for lobster, it's been cleaned up. the nasties taken off. NO FREAKING EYES!!!!

so, being adults in age only, we attempt to get cracking.

sorry. i had to say it.

we eventually called on the maiter'd for some pointers, then went back to the task at hand.

wait a minute. what the hell is that green slimy crap?!
the Husband leans across the table and says "avoid it."
but what is it??
not sure, he says, but avoid it.

avoid it?! damn! it's everywhere!! how can i avoid it? ew.ew.ew.ew.ew.ew.ew.ewwww!

meanwhile, Larry the Lobster is still fixing a steely eye on me. i was trying to keep my Big Girl Panties on, but kids, it was getting harder and harder.
even though it was completely all in my head, i could feel my tum-tum getting a little squirrley.

it really was good. it was just something i wasn't used to..or the Husband, either.
on the drive home, he was convinced that all our problems could be solved by the interenet.

"i'm gonna go to ask.com, and look up How to Eat a Whole Lobster. then we'll have instructions and can do this better next time."

there can be a next time. really, there can.
but there just better not be a head. or eyes. or green crap inside.

more this and less of that.

• my mom's surgery turned out well...she's feeling pretty perky...mostly because of the Demerol. that'll make anyone feel perky.
• the clambake was...different. but that's another post. suffice to say, again, that i am a big baby and really do prefer my food to not be in it's original form.and the lobster was.
• my bestest friend leaves tomorrow for New York City with her kids...do keep her in your prayers that they have a wonderful, safe trip. especially for Kristie...she's as good a flier as i am.
• looking for Hints from Heloise: anyone got any ideas why my feet & ankles are swollen? i'm certainly not preggers...so is there any other reason?

more on the clambake tomorrow. just a preview: it had eyes. it looked at me. ewwwwwww.

baby.

who needs caffeine?

today started so ordinary. just another boring workday that, thankfully, was a Friday.
which of course means the weekend is here.

Husband left for work before i did, and as i sat to catch a few minutes of the news, our phone rang.

phones ringing that early can not be a good thing.
but no one was there. that was weird, i thought. not nearly as weird as what's going on in London, but...

POUND!POUND!POUND!POUND!!!

what th'?

"Orange County Sheriff - OPEN THE DOOR NOW!"

WHAT TH'????!!!!!

"THIS IS THE ORANGE COUNTY SHERIFF!! YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO OPEN THE DOOR BEFORE I KICK IT IN!"

i was ready to dive under the bed with the cat. that's when the phone rang again - the Husband. calling to tell me that the cops were here.

duh. i've figured that out.

he had gotten down to his car and saw this big-ass white van double-parked, and began muttering under his breath about the schmucks double parking, etc. that's when the doors on the van opened and at least ten sheriffs piled out. big sheriffs.

at least five of them were upstairs. two at the back of our complex, two at the bottom of our stairs.

oh, did i mention the stairs we share with our upstairs neighbors? the ones the sheriffs were entering??

holy stinking crap.

they were looking for a man who apparently used to live there (which is funny, we've been here ten years and have only seen the two guys that live across from us) who missed a court appearance for narcotics trafficking.

(ooops. my bad. i just forgot i was supposed to go to court.
oh and i forgot that drug trafficking is bad.
drugs=jail. sorry, man.)

apparently the guy they were looking for is in Ethiopia. not deported, just there. they don't know any more than that.

meanwhile the entire time, i'm on the phone with Husband, with my eye firmly stuck to our peephole, deciding if it was safe to leave. Husband wanted me to wait till they left, but as we all know, the wheels of justice turn slow.
it seemed safe. no guns were drawn, so i'm leaving, opening the door carefully and making sure the officers knew i was there.

these guys have always been quiet...but isn't it the quiet ones you gotta watch?

"yeah, we never saw much of them, but they wuz good peoples. i didn' kno' that they kilt everyone in da house."

and i had planned on getting coffee on my way to work. don't need it now.

who says the OC is dull?

this n' that...

stupid things you think of when you wake up at 3:45. unintentionally.

• my downstairs neighbor is convinced we are rebuilding a motorcycle in here. seriously. please. if you knew how these apartments are laid out, you'd know there was no room for such an undertaking.
• if you knew my Husband, you would know that such an undertaking would be accompanied by many foul words.
• prayers, please - my mom is having carpal tunnel surgery today.
• Husband's dinner last night was OK; but of course our Queen of the Complainers bitches immediately after dinner that her chicken was gristly. if there is something wrong with the food, it'll be her food. always. (Husband always asks how it can be that she has a boyfriend with as much whining as she does. i say because she doesn't do it around him. yet.)
• how can it be i go to sleep obsessed about babies (Queen of the Complainers is the auntie of the girl who just had the baby, who's shower i ditched.), but dream about hot sauce. Tabasco, specifically.

back to the baby...because i am completely obsessed...she has a sling on both her legs for the next three weeks. apparently she either was born or in vitro with her legs above her head, so this is to correct any issues she could have. eating like a piggley-wiggley, too. so, to allow her mom to eat (i got my dinner cooked first)and also to keep Queen C from, well, complain how she didn't get to finish her dinner while hot so she could take care of the baby. and yes, she would, too. i took the baby to feed her.

just when i think i've got the whole baby thing under control, i pick this kiddo up and it's all over with. again.

• BBQ today at work. i got myself involved (or really the Big Boss got me involved) on this committee designed by another manager to *ahem* design ways to have fun at work. not that i'm agin' having fun at work, but my main obsession now is ensuring that i retire from the dang place; not get laid off or any such thing.

back to the BBQ. this committee decided to come up with a BBQ for the publishing department. but the people on this committee are most unorganized. they will come up with an idea, then next week, change their minds on it.

case in point: the committee decided to have a July 4th centerpiece contest for each workgroup in publishing. then, all publishing employees would vote on their favorite. yesterday, we get an email from one committee member that she had asked four managers to be judges on all the centerpieces.

wait...what? did i miss something? and emailed that and what we had decided on. apparently some of the committee members decided that because some workgroups were larger than others, the voting would not be fair. so impartial judges were chosen.

but why not bring it up for the committee to discuss? why wait till the last minute then spring it on the rest of us? oh well. i have to laugh, because the leader of our group spends a lot of time in our meetings keeping the meeting "on track." especially when they start talking during the meetings. but somehow, we can't keep what's going on within the group on track. this is gonna be fun.

hmmm. i'm thinking the Queen of the Complainers may have an heir to the throne.

all hail Princess Whiny!!

whoda thunk it?

i'm excited about dinner tomorrow night. not tonight, but tomorrow.

and with the size my butt is, you'd think i'd be more excited about food every.damn.day.

but i'm not. tomorrow, however, is an exception.

we're going back here. yes, we just went for Husband's birthday. but when there, we saw a table card for an event they're having tomorrow night...a clambake.

holy freaking crustaceans, Batman!

being West Coasters, neither of us have been to a clambake. i'm not sure if it's actually in the restaurant, or in their courtyard outside, but in either case, this is gonna be fun.

unfortunately, it's been a week of really good eating. i made a pork tenderloin that was way super good...and if you're interested, here you go:
preheat oven to 375-400
get 1 pork tenderloin 1-2lbs
large ziplok bag - inside bag add 1tsp garlic powder, 1 tsp seasoned salt, 1 -2 tsps each dried basil and oregano. shake to combine.

put your tenderloin in and shake to coat.

next, take three strips of bacon and wrap around the tenderloin, secure with toothpicks if needed.
coat in olive oil, put in a foil lined 9x13 baking dish. bake at 375 for 45 or 400 for 60 minutes, or until internal temp reaches 155 and bacon is crispy.

remove from oven, wrap in foil and let rest for 10 minutes. eat 'em up. yum.

good food part two

one of our favorite, inexpensive and good places to eat is the Old Spaghetti Factory. regular readers may remember it as the site of Brendan's birthday party. one of our favorite dishes is their Browned Butter with Mizithra cheese. way, WAY yummy.

try this. cut up two sticks of butter and put in a saucepan. melt over low heat really slowly. once it begins to boil, stir constantly to prevent residue from sticking to the bottom of the pan.

As the butter cooks, it will start to foam and rise. Continue stirring, otherwise the butter foam could overflow (about 5 minutes) and catch fire. Once the butter stops foaming and rising, cook until amber in color (about 1 to 2 minutes). It will have a pleasant caramel aroma.

Turn off the heat and remove pan from burner. Let the sediment settle to the bottom of the pan for a few minutes. Pour the brown butter through a strainer into a small bowl. Do not disturb the residue at the bottom of the pan.
The brown butter can be stored in the refrigerator and reheated in a microwave as needed.

Boil the pasta of choice until Al Dente. Drain pasta and divide into four servings. Spread 1/4 cup of Mizithra over each pasta serving. Top with 1/4 cup of hot brown butter. (actually i do it the other way, butter first, then cheese. if you can't find Mizithra, which is a hard Greek cheese, you can use a Romano blend...it'll almost be the same)

tonight: Husband's birthday finishes at our favorite Japanese restaurant. i must now cut coupons for dinner...local papers run a buy one, get one free up to $20 offer and with ten people coming, they do come in handy.

bon appetite!

this morning's conversation

the conversation started like this:

v: don't forget to get home early tonight. we have your birthday dinner with our dinner group tonight.

b: OK. *sigh*

v: what's wrong?

b: well, i just wish you had gotten me up earlier.

v: me gotten you up early? don't you have an alarm clock? that works??

b: heh-heh-heh-heh.

dang. 47 years old and i gotta get him up for work.

a love story, of sorts.

this is a tale of my first real love.

before Brendan. before Kent. before David Hunter and Donny Osmond or even Shaun Cassidy.

there was baseball.

baseball. America's pastime. the brainchild of Abner Doubleday. the evil stepchild of cricket.

and my first real love.

back in the day, after the sperm donor had passed me by, there was my Uncle Jimmy. the man i still consider to be my dad. a tall fellah, with a friar's fringe and glasses, he was the coolest man alive...before Alzheimer's stole him from me before his body had passed.

and a baseball fanatic.

growing up in Long Beach, we lived not too far from Blair Field. it was across the street from my future high school, and where not only Cal State Long Beach would play, but also a AAA team.

we would go every Saturday.

there never were a lot of people there. on a good day, maybe a hundred in a stadium that seated at least 500. but we were there, soaking the game in. and when i was bored (which could happen when you're five), i could run up and down the bleacher stairs as much as i wanted.

by myself.

freedom.

one of the best parts of the day was getting dinner. or lunch. always a hot dog. Cracker Jack (c'mon. it is baseball, y'know). beer for him, Fresca for me.

Fresca? when you're five? it goes like this: i never liked Coke as a kid. my drinks were root beer or 7Up. Fresca was the next best thing. even though i positively HATED the taste, it was still something to drink.

and, like i said, Uncle Jimmy would usually have a beer, much to my chagrin. i was an extremist child. i was convinced that if you drank beer, you were an alcoholic.

not the most giving. i saw things in black and white. no gray for me.

regardless, it was one of the best parts of my week.

so why bring it up?

at the grocery store today, they had a little box next to the change dispenser. in it was a pocket calendar schedule for the Long Beach Armada...the new name of the AAA team in Long Beach that i still think is managed by my favorite retired Dodger, Steve Yeager. (no relation to Chuck. i think.)

suddenly i was five years old again, and totally excited about spending a Saturday afternoon with my daddy.

he inspired me. not only for baseball, but to chase dreams. and even though i lost that wonder as a part of my every-day life, it still shows up now and then...to reclaim me as its own.

true love, my friends, never dies.

be not offended.

but get ready for a good giggle or two. these came courtesy of the Darling Husband's email.

it's called: Buttons You Can't Wear at Work.

• If We Are What We Eat, Then I'm Fast, Cheap & Easy
• Rest Assured, No One Gives a Crap What You Think.
• Ask Me About My Ability to Completely Annoy Strangers!
• I See You're Playing Stupid Again...And Winning.
• Don't Make Me Go Psycho On Your Ass!
• Not The Brightest Crayon In The Box Now Are We?
• Damn Right I'm Good In Bed - I Can Sleep For Days.
• I'm Still Hot, It Just Comes In Flashes Now.
• Well - Aren't We Just the Little Freak of Nature?
• I'm Smiling. That Alone Should Scare You.
• A Few Clowns Short of a Circus Now Are We?
• Being a Crabby Bitch is Part of My Charm (my personal mantra)

and my very, very favorite...

• Back to your bridge, Evil Troll! You have no power here!!

just something to think of.

changing the subject!

kindly shared by our Sue, a meme about books...one of my favorite subjects!
i've been reading since i was four. some relatives say since i was two, but even i don't think i was that precocious.

not for reading, anyway.

Hardback or paperback? depends - i love hardbacks for first issues. but budget wise, the paperback is a better deal. most of the time.

Buy on line or in a store?
i can so spend hours in a bookstore, looking at different books, thumbing through them, but never, ever reading them. if i'm going to read them, i'm doing it after i purchased. same with magazines.

Favorite bookstore?
growing up, there was a book store i would walk to called Book Emporium..what i absolutely loved was their biography section - which still happens to be my favorite. i love a good bio.
why? because i'm nosey - haven't you figured that out yet?

Bookmark or dog ear?
bookmark? blaspheme!! never, ever. nor do i ever bend the spine back on a book. i see people do that and it's like my Styrofoam thing. pure torture.

Keep, throw away, or sell?
i've only tossed when i have literally destroyed the book. i've sold some, but a lot go to hospitals.

Short story or novel?
depends. a lot of times, short stories are kind of a tease. i'd rather read more and more and more...

Stop reading when tired or at chapter breaks?
i fall asleep often reading. i love it.

New or used?
usually new. i'm spoiled.

Morning, afternoon or nighttime reading?
nighttime. i'm too involved to be reading before work...or at work.

Stand Alone or Series?
not a lot of series books makes their way into my library...and not a lot of bios are series, either. oh well...

Favorite Series?
love Harry Potter, but i need to get to back into 'em. the Little House series was amazing to me, as was Nancy Drew. even the Princess Diaries series are cool.
hmmm. i see a pattern - lotsa kids books!

Favorite Books Read Last Year?
a bio on the actress who played Lisle in the Sound of Music movies, bios from Chuck Jones (yes, the Looney Tunes director), Wicked - but that was a hard, hard read.

On your “to read” pile right now?
the diaries of Ronald Reagan. what an amazing writer...whether or not you agreed with his stance or politics!

Favorite books of all time?
do i have to list just one? there's so many i go back to over and over...it's like revisiting an old friend. you're comfortable but can still find something new.

your turn. tell me what your favorite is and if you want to try this meme.

3, 2, 1 - blast off...

3 THINGS I DO DAILY…
1. shower & wash hair
2. perfume & deodorant
3. check that the zipper is up

2 THINGS I AM TRYING TO ACHIEVE RIGHT NOW…
1. reconcile to not being a mom
2. nirvana. naaaaah, not really. but balance would be good.

1 THING I AM TRYING TO CHANGE…
1. lately my attitude sucky-suck-sucks.


my attitude.
yeah, that's a good one.

this whole week has been, how should i say it...stressful? angry? pissy?

is there such a thing as post pms? 'cuz if there is, i'm confident i've got it. in bucketloads.

i don't know how it happened. how i got so cranky...so angry.

once i thought it was connected to the whole infertility thing...and it still could be.
a therapist told me i had grief issues dealing with infertility. but all the talking didn't seem to make a difference in how i felt.

i don't like issues.
i don't like being angry.
i don't know how to fix it.
and i know i really can't - it's not up to me.

and that frustrates me even more.

a giggle a day...

still snickering. try it...you'll feel better.

HOW TO START EACH DAY WITH A POSITIVE OUTLOOK
1. Empty the trash on your desktop.
2. Create a new file folder on your desktop.
3. Name it with the name of whomever is irritating you.
4. Send it to the trash.
5. Empty the trash.
6. Your PC will ask you, 'Do you really want to get rid of 'blank'?
7. Firmly Click 'Yes.'
8. Feel better.
9. Repeat as needed.

double-dogged dared.

never one to back down from Truth or Date, i mean Dare, i present a challenge from Elle.
this could go down in the Annuals of Horrid Dates...it did, however, get published in the Long Beach Press Telegram.

imagine this: in the late 80s, early 90s, i couldn't get a date if my life depended on it. living in L.A., where everyone is blonde, skinny with fake boobs, a Rubenesque, real boobed dark haired chickie doesn't have a chance.

but someone did give me an opportunity for a blind date. and a killer story.

i got introduced to this guy from friends of friends. "he's a musician," they said, "and you're a musician." (OK, i was in choir all throughout school. i took piano lessons.) "you have lots in common."

riiiiiiiiiight.

so i called him. he sounded kinda groovy. like, right out of the 60's-Monterey Pop Festival-don't trust anyone over 30 groovy. we decided to go to the movies.

not my first choice for a first date. i'd rather do coffee, dinner or something where you could talk. oh well. he asked if i could pick him up, his car was in the shop.

niiiiice. this way if things go wrong, i have an escape plan.

i drive to his house, a duplex, with his in the back. i walk up the driveway to his place and hear music. guitar. sounds good.

it's my date. he's on the roof of his house. he has no shirt.

he makes some comment like "oh, you must be Valerie..cool...let me put on a shirt and we can go," and gets off the roof.

he came shoulder high on me. he's as skinny as a poster child for famine relief. he has long, long blond hair and John Lennon glasses. he is the 60's.

after he got his shirt on, and we got in my car, he informed me he had chosen "The Long Walk Home" (check it out on imdb.com). i have to admit, i was a little perturbed that i wasn't given any input into the movie, but whatev.

at the theater, we get to the box office, and he orders two tickets. i think the afternoon might just get better. then he turns to me.

"OK - that's $11 for the tickets, so your share is $5.50."

did i know i was sharing? that it was a dutch date? that this was doomed from the beginning?

"i only have a $20," i hear myself say. " i gotta break it before."

thoroughly ticked now, i go to the snack bar and get a diet coke, popcorn and milk duds. handing him $6, he hands me back a dollar...much in the same way the warden hands a commute for a death sentence - like this is the biggest thing you can ever do for a person.

"just keep the dollar for gas," he says.

oh yeah. that's class, ladies and gents.

i thought about leaving, the movie was boring as hell, but said no. momma raised me to do the right thing, and that wouldn't be right.

but it would've been soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much fun.

surprise!!

so it's like this.

not long after the Husband planned & executed (not without stress, provided by me)my birthday party, an evil idea came to me.

why not do one for him?

i threw a party for him once - on his 40th. i asked what he wanted and he said he wanted a pool party.

then a pool party you shall have, my love.

i bought tickets for local water park. i invited his friends. i called my friends from the Bay Area and then snuck them down to surprise him. we had ice cream sammiches, sang "Happy Birthday," and everyone left to do their own thing.

it was completely fun. and i spent most of the day in an innertube, rafting the lazy river.
hence, my idea for an "adult" waterpark. nothing but lazy rivers (a rapid or two, i wanna have some fun) with float-up bars.

after all, if you can have a swim-up poker table in Vegas, why the heck can't i have a swim-up bar?

sorry. this old timer do ramble on. back to the story at hand.

so this year, i snuck names out of his Blackberry. we met at the Old Spaghetti Factory. balloons were ordered. goody bags put together. fun, fun, fun till daddy takes the T-Bird away.

yes, i said goody bags. who says only kids can have 'em?

i decided on an Hawaiian theme. don't ask me why i decided Hawaiian, at an italian restaurant. it just worked in my head.

was he surprised? oh you betcha. the only clue (he says) he got was when we walked by my parents' car and saw balloons in the back of the car.

oh well.

and remember this? when Husband decided to experiment with two scooters at once? down a sloped driveway? with a rock that he hit? and the finger dislocated?

dearest Kristie bought him a scooter of his very own. a Hot Wheels one, no less. with a helmet.

tres cool.

oh and we had cupcakes and ice cream.

all in all, a good night, i thought.

pictures forthcoming. happy birthday again.

four for fore.

it has nothing to do with golf, i just wanted another 'FOR' word. i'm weird that way.

4 THINGS THAT SCARE ME…
1. Michael Bolton. (me, too Cyn!)
2. politicians
3. dying alone
4. did i mention the vampire under my bed? oh, wait..that's my childhood terror.

only four things...way too short a list.

all shall be revealed....

tomorrow.




(don't you freaking hate cliff-hangers?)

more suspicious things...

...ordering...
...clandestine phone calls, taken in the closet...
...arguments over money...
...loving me some Mylar...
...mini bottles of Kahlua...
...giggling...


it just gets weirder and weirder. maybe there's a full moon.

sing it with me..."i get theeeeese...suspicions....."

different. but still the same.

you're a boy. i'm a girl.

you're passionate about flying and firearms.

i'm passionate about reading, creating art and music.

you're a methodical, sensitive knuckle-dragger.

i'm an uber-emotional, blunt chick who, according to you, thinks like a guy.

you like Mexican. i like Mexican.

we like beer.

we like our cat.

we like each other...which is a good thing.

one thing will never change...i'll always be younger than you.

oh - and i'll always love you.
(ok, so that's two.)

happy birthday, baby.

suspicious things going on here....

....shadows in the hall....
...whispered conversations that end abruptly...
...covert phone calls...
...not to mention leis...

what is going on here?



more to follow.




(ain't it cool? it's like wondering who's gonna get killed in the last Harry Potter.)

five - no jive...

5 THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE…
1. go to Hawaii
2. " " Ireland
3. " " Europe
4. " " Canada
5. " " Wisconsin

happy? :o)

and of course, you can add a family to the list...or just make it the list...but in either case it's always there...no matter what...

this is ridiculous.

i am freaking 45 years old.
i have a zit.
on my nose.
right above my nose piercing.
and if that isn't bad enough, another one is right on the end of my nose.
can you say Christmas in June? 'cause i look like Rudolph.
i have bags under my eyes that the TSA is looking to check.
and i just pulled the stud partially out of my nose. again.
owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.owie.

and it's only 6 a.m.
can't even imagine what the rest of the day holds. yipppeeeeeeee!

number six for your dancing pleasure...

6 PLACES I HAVE VISITED…
1. Arizona
2. San Diego
3.Texas
4. Nevada
5. Florida
6. Washington DC/Virginia

(not counting Pennsylvania, Kansas, Michigan, Oregon, Mexico and Catalina Island. i guess i've been to more places than i thought. but i still need moooooore. such a travel junkie.)

thanks be they didn't name me Grace.

grace? nope.
coordination? nope.
gliding across the dance floor with anyone from 'dancing with the stars'? nope.
two left feet...on other people's feet? oh, you betcha.

i never was a coordinated kid. in a desperate attempt to make me so (and probably to make me less of a tomboy), i was enrolled in ballet. and tap.
in tap, i spent a lot of time on my bum. mostly because i couldn't do the time step well enough. i'd kick out, way out, and lose my balance and splat! on my bum.

ballet i did well at. mostly because i had the barre to hold on to. i'm sure if i had done pointe, well...you get the idea.

i spent a lot of time as a kid, skidding on my knees, laying the bike down or falling off of something. i'm sure my mom prayed every night for the Lord to allow me to survive my own childhood. i still have scars on my knees from a particularly bad tumble in the 6th grade.

in high school, i horribly sprained my ankle one day by landing in a gopher hole.
count on me to find the only hole in an acre radius.

as an adult, i was chaperoning some teenagers for a Rainbow girl function. we came in to a seminar late, so i had them sit down quick. the minute everyone started applauding for the speaker, i herded them quickly to our assigned seats and followed behind.

i stepped off a six foot scaffolding. to a cement floor below.

you know that moment when you do something really stupid? the moment when you've passed the point of no return and you have to surrender to the inevitable? oh yeah. i had that moment. as i heard the entire arena gasp as i fell.

niiiiice.

the good thing, is that i didn't break anything. i did sacrifice a pair of pantyhose and had to wear an air cast on my ankle to support it.

am i done? oh hell no.

a few years ago, going out for a walk, i stepped off the curb. and you guessed it...twisted the same ankle i always seem to injure. then, i fell down the stairs at work.

i so should be in a padded room. for my own safety.
but i'd probably catch my foot in the padding, fall, and sprain something else.

so occasionally, i think to myself, that it's a good thing we don't have kids. there's a really good chance they'd be klutzy. like their mother. and spend a lot of time injured, bruised or bleeding.

so what's the point of this story?
none. i like stories. i just wish sometimes i was graceful. along with rich, thin and with perfect makeup and air.

ah fantasy. where would i be without you?

lucky number seven...

7 THINGS THAT ANNOY ME…
1. people who don't appreciate what a gift their children are.
2. ANY story about Paris Hilton.
3. rude people. and here in Mostly Smoggy So. Cal., there's a lot of 'em. especially on the freeway.
4. lipstick on a glass, straw or bottle. my mom is notorious for leaving her color on my straw when she takes a hit off my soda. totally grosses me out.
5. reality TV.
6. work. i SO wish i was independently wealthy.
7. that Bucky Covington song about how our mothers smoke & drank when they were pregnant with us. come ON, Bucky...you're all of, what - 20 something? you had no lead base paint in your nursery, and you most likely DID NOT drink from a garden hose.
(7.5 - people who take a meme and turn it into a soapbox. so yes, i'm now annoyed with myself.)

make sure you have kleenix nearby...

then go hug your kids - no matter how old they are. and then pray for this sweet girl.

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/lilymathis1

oh Steff...

don't hate me.
love - me :o)


oh, who am i kidding!

here's part 3 of the top ten catagories of me.

8 THINGS I WEAR EVERYDAY
1. my wedding rings
2. earrings
3. my nose stud
4. shoes - much to my chagrin
5. mascara. it ain't pretty if i don't.
6. underwear (and all the people said AMEN)
7. a toe ring
8. a tan. oh, who am i kidding? i'm as white as the snow on the hilltop.

the things the internet teaches.

why, it's taught me things i didn't even know i needed to know.

like my dear friend, Hasni Ghazali. he (or she - that wacky Hasni, always like to keep me in suspense!) shot me an email today telling me that "Now it is time for increasing your time ejaculation! "

thanks, Hasni. until today, i didn't even know time could do that.

the countdown continues...

again from Cyn...

9 Ways to Win My Heart...

9. talk on the phone with me for hours
8. bring me a yellow rose when we first meet
7. stop me to tell me how pretty you think my eyes are
6. be funny
5. kiss me like it was your first time
4. tell me i look pretty in the morning
3. buy me a beer in Old Town
2. send me pink roses when you go back East for Christmas when we first start dating
1. propose at midnight on New Year's Eve at your home (when i am super tired and cranky and only want to go to sleep) instead of the restaurant because the really drunk woman at our table would've broadcast it to everyone in San Diego county.

ooops - i forgot. too late. Brendan already did all that.
happy Father's day to each of you daddies out there.

and Doug...get well soon!!

it sucky-suck-sucks...

to be seven years old AND be really super sick on your birthday, which also happens to be the same day you're supposed to be having your birthday pool party.

poor Deano. get well soon!

p.s. - Erin? Daddy? please don't get sick. if you get sick, then Mommy gets sick. and THAT'S as bad as y'all getting sick.

this is why it's called RANDOM thoughts...

(mostly because nothing is cohesive @ 5 am)

ah, the human mind. nothing is better for getting us out of a sticky situation (mostly because we didn't use it to not get in a sticky situation) or for playing tricks on us.

especially in the middle of the freaking night.

as you well remember, the recliner in our abode is the prize piece of furniture. i slept in it, quite happily, after my back surgery. the Husband falls asleep in it frequently. like he did last night.
while watching Ghost Rider. (good movie, BTW. might be a little scary for young'uns, but yours truly likes herself some comic book action stuff)

and by the time the movie ended, about 9ish, i was ready for bed myself. kind of early for me, but it was one of those long days that was exhausting.

for starters (see? told you it was random):

• had breakfast at a little Mexican restaurant not far from us. kids, let me just say: beans, carne asada and a chiliquile is just about the finest way to start a day anywhere. add to that a diet Coke with a little lime (because even by my standards, 9am is just a bit too early for beer. sorry.), and it's dang near perfect.
• i talked the husband into driving down to Lake Forest (south in the O.C.) to the Sizzix warehouse. (and for you non-scrapping peeps - Sizzix is a brand of die cuts for home use. you can cut your own shapes, letters, whatever the die is, and use them for scrapbooking, card making, keeping the kids occupied. whatever.) seems they were having a first-ever warehouse sale. AND IT WAS GOOD. prices were un-be-lieve-able. wanna know how unbelievable? try this: the Sizzlet alphabets...you know, the ones that sell for $150 at your local craft store? $25-30. yes, dollars. no i'm not high.

i spent about $80 bucks. Husband spent about $80. we got two of the Big Shot roller machines (one for me, one for Mom). he found a stencil letter set. he now wants to stencil every thing we own. oh joy. embossers that normally go for $12...only a dollar.

i couldn't believe there weren't more people there on a Saturday. well, after talking to one of the employees, seems that the sale started Friday. they, at one point, had a 1 1/2 hour long line to check out.

holy crap. it's like being at Disneyland waiting for Nemo.

then it was off for other errands, including a haircut for Husband. it was then the Husband realized that he didn't buy $80 of stuff at the warehouse sale. seems that, on our cart, we had two Big Shots, 'member? well, they charged Husband for two. they charged me for one. we paid for three and came home with two. not good.

unfortunately he realized this about 4:30. the sale ended @ 5. we made it with ten minutes to spare. and although the policy was no refunds or exchanges, they did give us the option to either take another Big Shot or get $25 more stuff.

for a minute, the thought of getting another Big Shot was heady, i admit. visions of going on to eBay, and selling it for millions of millions of dollars danced before my eyes. (mostly because i wondered how many of the people there were going to do that very thing with their purchases) but, then i realized how much i hate going to the post office, so i opted for the more stuff.

then it was home for dinner, movie and snoozing.

i fell asleep watching Alton on DVD. i woke up to the screen saver on our DVD flashing. i thought it was birds flying across our bedroom window. then, the bedroom light came on. (Husband purchased a remote kit so that all our lights can be turned on/off by remote or be on timer, which is nice when we leave town)

i turned it off.

then the other light went on. i turned that one off. then Husband decided to come to bed.

too many interruptions. i'm up now and multi-tasking. blogging, IMing my sis-in-law (hi, Maureen!), and thinking about what i want to do for invites for a beach party we're planning later (and yes, y'all are invited. bring your own drinks and a side to share).

i told you i go all over the road.

later today, it's off to the Parental Units casa for a BBQ. oh, and Husband gets to put the BBQ together, too. doesn't that sound like fun?!

so my wish is that the lights don't go on in your bedroom in the middle of the night, that you never get overcharged and that you don't get pukey sick on your birthday (hi Deano! feel better buddy!) neither.

and a happy Father's day to all you daddies out there; the ones that read and the ones married to the ones that read. may your steaks be perfect and your gifts of ties be few.

suckin' it up with the big girl panties.

you know what? sometimes it sucks being a grown up.

especially when you're surrounded by children that are only a year or two younger than you.

let's get into it, shall we?!

Thursday night, some of my friends from work all got together for a birthday. you remember this stuff, we meet someplace at the birthday person's choosing and have a nice dinner, split the bill and go on our merry little ways.

last night, we met at a place near work called BJ's pizza and brewhouse.
(wait...they have pizza AND beer? together?? in the same location?! it's a miracle from heaven.)
but when i got there, the auntie of the chickie who just had the baby jumps me like i had just kicked three puppies across the parking lot.

"did you make reservations?"

well, no. i tried the last time we were here and they said they didn't take them except for really large parties.

"well, we don't have reservations and it's a two hour wait."

i should clarify that the two hour wait is because Thursday was graduation night for most of the high schools in the Long Beach Unified School District...a find scholastic district that produced such luminaries as Cameron Diaz...Snoop Doggy Dog...and me.

and just for the record: i haven't smoked pot nor slept with Justin Timberlake.

so immediately it is my fault that we have to wait two hours.

and just for the second part of the record, everyone is out to get this other girl and the world is against her, blah, blah, blah.

meanwhile, the rest of our party arrives, and at one point, my friend Melissa (sorry, the California Melissa, not my Mississippi Melissa) goes to the front counter just to check how much longer it will be.

"well, asking isn't going to make it go any faster," the blond chickie behind the counter says. "if you think the wait is too long, maybe you should just leave."

wait. rewind.

"what did you say?!" my friend says in disbelief. blond chickie's eyes got as big as my ass.
she tries to backpedal..."oh, nothing."

"oh nothing my foot!" Melissa says. "you tell me what you said."

and the chickie is stupid enough to repeat it.
Melissa is stupid enough to call for the manager. who apologizes profusely and in turn gets us a table.

so the 45 minute wait was much better than the 2 hour projected wait.

and not that i would wish others ill-will, but i kinda meanly hope that blond chickie gets fired. or at least some serious lessons in customer service. because you just don't treat people like that.

and especially not our little group.

more tomorrow...on why we think the auntie is taking over the motherhood duties of her niece's baby and why i think our friend's 21 year old daughter has a drinking problem.

dontcha wish your friends were fun like mine? peace out.

let the countdown begin!

this, and the next few posts will be countdowns. no particular reason, just that i liked this one i reprint with persmission from Cynthia.

oh, and i'll have to tell you about last night...snicker...but again, that's another post.
i can't be cute forever. eventually my horns & hoofs come out and the evil takes over...

10 RANDOM THINGS ABOUT ME…
1. i occasionally will eat buttermilk on my Cocoa Puffs (yes. i will allow you to scream in disgust here)
2. i'm such a wuss, that if i drink caffeinated drinks after 5 pm, i won't be able to sleep at night. well, without the use of either drugs or a rubber mallet.
3. I'd rather freeze in the wintertime than sweat in the summer. (me, too, Cyn. and i don't live in Vegas!)
4. i asked Dave Johnson to King Dren (nerd spelled backwards. remember it from Happy Days? it was our school's version of Sadie Hawkins) in 11th grade. turned me down cold.
5. i was the tallest girl in my 6th grade class. couldn't play basketball to save my life.
6. i would eat breakfast for dinner most every day, if the Husband would let me get away with it
7. i don't like clothes shopping. i want to go in, smack the outfit into submission with my club and drag it back to my cave.
8. the older i get, the more of my "live and let live" attitude towards schmucks goes out the window.
9. the only good thing my dad gave me: my sense of humor.
10. if i don't spend every day checking out all my happy blogs out there, i will wither and die like smarley grapes on a vine. if that's even a word.

coming tomorrow: nine ways to win my heart. take notes: there will be test later that counts for 35% of your final grade.

back in five and five

shamelessly stolen from my favorite college girlie.

there's more a-coming..i've got one i've gotten reprint rights from my favorite coconut, so look for that this weekend.

INSTRUCTIONS: Remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so:
Queen of Drama
These Are the Days...
An Inside Look
College
random thoughts

Next, select five people to tag:
april
linda
melissa
steff
catty becky

What were you doing 10 years ago?
planning my wedding. daaaaang. that seems like it was longer ago than that. Husband would probably agree.

What were you doing 1 year ago?
same thing i'm doing now...just doing it a year younger.

Five Snacks You Enjoy:
cream cheese w/ chili sauce poured over it
nachos
onion straws
black bean salsa
homemade carmel corn

Five Songs That You Know All The Lyrics To:
i am SO not answering that. i'll embarass the hell out of myself. oh, allright.
Da Do Ron Ron - Shaun Cassidy
pretty much any Donny Osmond song
My Guy - but i can't remember who sang it...from the 60's?
Daydream Believer - the Monkees
and you know there's more...

Five Things You Would Do If You Were a Millionaire:
buy a beach house
take care of my parents
travel the world
write a book (because if i were a millionaire, i could do it for the love of it. not because i needed the cashola)
adopt me some babies

Five Bad Habits:
being evil
being evil
being evil
being evil
pulling my hangnails

Five Things You Like To Do:
write
read
scrapbook/do crafty things
hang with the Husband
hang with the wonderful people in my life

Five Things You Would Never Wear Again:
never say never. you know how the crap comes around, but here!
gouchos
tube tops
Dittos
Earth Shoes (and i pray they never come back!)
bikinis (like i have worn once since i was four)

Five Favorite Toys:
my camera
my Palm
the laptop
the Internet
dvds

holy crap, he's at it again.

stop me if i've told you this before...

a few years ago, the Big Boss asked me to give a presentation on my job, what i do, and how what the ad designers do (and don't do) effect me every day.

no problem. i can yak up a storm.

after my spiel, i asked if anyone had any questions. and, from the back of the room, a hand popped up, and here was the question:

"yeah, what's your real hair color?"

ha. ha. very funny. so funny i forgot to laugh.

this guy (yes, it's a guy) really has the mannerisms of a clod of dirt. he thinks he's being funny, and seven times out of ten, no - he's not. what he says is not always (or intended to be) hurtful.

he's just an idiot.

well - he's done it again.

checking my work email this a.m., and i see he sent me something after i left work last night. it's entitled "the UNemployable"

and the first line, direct from his own fingers... "this is going to be you in a couple of years!"

not a threat, kids...it's pictures. of people. with lotsa piercings. through the chin, the tongue, the eyebrows...

ha.

the funny thing is, despite my current PMS status, i'm not angry. i'm just hurt.
a little sensitive, i know, but why he thinks things like this is funny, and to make the jokes at others expense, well...

the pictures, in case you were wondering, really were gross. and ew, not something you should be sending through company email.

and not something to send to a chick with a nose piercing, dyed hair and PMS.

still bitchy.

the Husband got home late tonight...later than usual. and, after he got upstairs, he realized he left his cell in the car. so, on his way back to get it, our downstairs neighbor caught him to "chat".

so now i've told you that story to tell you this story.

mostly, when our downstairs neighbor wants to "chat," it usually means he wants to bitch about Sloshy, and the "level of service" we have here at the Casa. then, the discussion turns to our plumbing, and how the plumbers made the same repairs to our neighbor's sink that they did to ours.

but i guess his towels didn't get sopped.

meow!

anywhoooo... here's where the still bitchy part comes in.

our neighbor asked Brendan if we "were building a motorcycle in our living room."

uh, no. why?

"because you sure make a lot of noise and drop a lot of stuff."

whoa-whoa-whoa there, cowboy! this coming from a man who has woken me up with either his TV or stereo on WAY FREAKING LOUD.

grrr.

if you love me, really love me, you'll fill a tranquilizer rifle up with Industrial Strength Midol and shoot it in my ass.

then get me a massage and a margarita.

skipping the P altogether.

that would be the P in PMS. i'm going straight to the MS.

grrr. and sorry all two of my boy readers. you may want to change the channel now.

first you should know, i'm not usually crabby when Auntie Flo comes to call.
i cry. at everything.
Food Network? crying.
cat looking adorably at me? crying.
Hallmark commercial on tv? sobbing like a freak of nature. i produce so much liquid that i could create my own rain forest.

not now.
now i'm as mad as hell, and i have to grin and bear it.

yesterday, when i got home, after checking our messages, i found that the assistant manager for the complex - aka Sloshy, had called.
we call him that because you have to catch him before 11 am, or look for him spending time with Jack and Bud.

as in Daniels and Weiser.

he was letting us know the plumber was coming to fix a leaky pipe under Husband's sink.

oh happy day! this means i can get all the Husband's bathroom crap...er...accessories, out of the living room and back under his sink.

i head on in his bathroom and the first thing i notice is that our bath mat is in his sink.
and it's sopping wet.

interesting. so i checked Husband's bath towel and hand towel. nope. dry.

well, OK. one thing wet ain't too bad. i hang it up and walk out. past my towel. my wet towel.

what th'?!

now remember: i've skipped the P and headed straight into MSland. and woe be unto those that must face my wrath.
in this case, it's our assistant manager.

so what's the deal, i say. they can make a mess of water and use my towels to clean up after themselves? and not even leave a freaking note?! and now i've got to do laundry and they're not even going to leave a note?!

he just stared at me from within Budland.

i know. completely unreasonable. and so not my usual reaction. but with the crap going on at work (i keep telling myself just a few more days, a few more days and THE BOSS COMES BACK!!!) between the usual stuff to deal with and people i need to document every mistake they make (some people are on corrective counseling...a step we use to document everything we and they do so if they are fired, we have a good case to protect ourselves), having a temporary worker released (because she kept coming in late and not making up her time), planning a shower (and trying to get money out of people - don't get me started on some people who won't tell me if they're planning on participating or not) and trying to not get mad/hurt at people in the group who constantly go to other supervisors to ask for days off instead of asking me...

is that the longest paragraph ever? yikes.

unreasonable. that's me lately.

i was telling my mom of my woes at work and she says "well, you better get used to it if you want to be promoted there."
sorry, mom, my latest career goal is to be able to retire from this place. to avoid any and all lay-offs.
i wanna go when i wanna go. not when they want to dump me because i've been there for 20 years and they think i'm at the top of the pay scale.

and if you, oh Company of My Employment, do decide to dump me, you'd just better hope to shout that i'm not entertaining, ahem, company.

i may either beat the crap out of you, or leave big-ass mascara stains on your shoulder.

i LOVE it when she comes a-callin'...

who? why, my patron saint: the Creative Fairy.

she is a fickle biz-natch. sometimes she stays away. for very long periods of time.

but when she comes a-calling, well...let me tell you, kids, she is a welcome sight and can put her feet up on my couch any time she wants.

now if she could just make me take pictures like Tara. or Susie. or Amanda, Melissa's sister.

oh well.

but on to the business at hand. first there was clocks...

then there were cards...

then the calendar... (sorry it's blurry..)

so there you have it. i was busy...well, we were busy.

so when the fairy comes to your house, make her at home. let her put her feet up. get her a margarita.

or get me one. whatever.

happy monday, kids!

justice served!

tee hee..snicker...guffaw...

back she goes to jail.

Paris, that is.

now, while i hafta agree to a point, that she could be caught in a power struggle between the judge and Sheriff Baca, that's where my sympathy ends.

"it's not fair!" she yelled as they dragged her away, calling for her mom. i'd be calling for my mom too, i guess, if i was heading off to jail for, let's say, putting a lion head on my cat.

but guess what, princess: life ain't fair.
everything has a price.
if you play, you pay.

and it's about time a lot of these spoiled brats, males and females, learned they have the same rules we peons do.




in other news...
i realize this isn't earth-shattering news...but i had to get a new blow drier today.
this whole week, it's been sputtering off and on.

today it sputtered off. i hadn't really started drying my hair yet. and of course, being the mature, crisis-handling adult i am, i spent the next 15 minutes yelling at the drier to "come on!! work, dammit!! come on!!!"

thankfully, it cooperated enough for me to finish, because i had this vision of me going to work with cute, wavy, greasy as all gitout hair.

that's the look i'm always going for, you know: a fat crack whore.

then i got booted out of the office this fine day by the big boss. she noticed i had been working unsanctioned overtime this week, while my boss is on paternity leave, so she gave me the afternoon off.

i've worked with her for years. she really is one of the fairest people i know.

so. with time to spare, i ran to Costco, and ordered our cake for a shower next week, bought crab legs for the Husband's dinner tonight (THAT oughta make him love me, right?!) and steaks for Father's Day next weekend. i returned something to Kohl's. went to the credit union. then, i traversed over a little further to a tattoo/piercing parlor.

you can breathe. i didn't get any ink.

you see, last night before bed, i was washing my face when a thread caught the edge of my nose sparkle. and pulled the wire about a 1/4 inch out of my nose.

owieowieowieowieowieowie.

i freaked a little. called Brendan. he recoiled in horror. he wouldn't touch it.

wuss. but so was i.

i began pushing it back...or i thought i was. instead i only pushed it to the side. went to the mirror and pushed it back in.

but somewhere along the way, i managed to lose the sparkly stone. now all i have is a golf tee.

now, i had no intention to drive back to the beach to get this fixed...not in the summer. that would be suicide. so i went to another place in Fullerton, near my credit union, only about 20 minutes away. and i would've gone here first, but the place in Newport came recommended as very clean and easy to work with.

the place in Fullerton was just as clean. the guy was nice, great, and replaced my lil' tee with a sparklie blue stone.

but cutting out some of the wire to replace with the new stud...kids...IT HURT. BAD. I CRIED. REAL BABY GIRL PARIS HILTON TEARS!!!

'course, it didn't help that i irritated the heck out of it last night, that it's only a two week old hole (which sounds weird to say) and that he was poking around there.

but now i have a pretty blue sparklie in my nose (why blue? because the green they had wasn't dark enough for me, miss Kristie. i know you're gonna ask.) instead of a golf tee.

it's been a good day.

we abuse cats in our house.

and you can, too.

Step One: go shopping at Target.

Step Two: head over to the pet section and look where they have dog sweaters and what-not.

(or it could be with the kitty stuff. search around)

Step Three: purchase lion head (or elephant head or giraffe head) and tie for kitty.

Step Four: have Husband hold cat, while you dress said cat and take pictures.

Step Five: post on blog for entire internet to see. (see below)

Step Six: feed kitty lots & lots of kitty treats to ensure cat does not kill you while you sleep.

Step Seven: laugh your butt off.

opposites attract, right?

i have always been in touch with my inner hippie. much to my mother's chagrin.

now my mother is no shrinking violet. (obviously, if she raised me. but that's another post.) one day, she and her best friend, who, back in the 60's had the day before, joined the L.A.P.D., decided to drive up to Watts.

while the riots were going on.

hey. i said she wasn't a shrinking violet. i didn't say she was always smart.

but my mom, love her to death, has never really known what to do, or make, of me.

neither have i.

not enough of a rebel to be one, but not conservative enough to be one, either.

in other words, mediocre.

and that's OK.

now, where was i? oh yeah.

i guess i'm still enough of a rebel to have stopped caring what a lot of people think of me. like getting my nose pierced.

but over the weekend, it was the Husband's turn to do something different.

nope. no piercings. no ink.

he joined the NRA.

yep. the NRA.

they even gave him a hat.

but since opposites attract, i thought about what we could do for our Christmas cards this year.

me dressed as a hippie, with a flower wreath even. him with his rifle and NRA hat.
and maybe even a "Dick Chaney Shooting Club" shirt.

kidding.

or am i?

do you think animals have bad dreams?

Elvis just woke up from a..well..cat nap. with a loud squawk.
he then walked over to where Brendan is snoozing on the couch , put his paws on the couch and squawked at Brendan. over and over.

i tried to get him to come up to me. he just looked at me, turned back to Brendan as if to say, "piss off, lady. i want my daddy."

great. now i'm being dissed by the freaking cat.

and now for something completely different...

borrowed with intention of giving back from smileymamat..and thanks for stopping by!


1. Elaborate on your avatar. would if i could, but i still cannot figure out how to add one. guess i need brains. and patience.

2.What's your current relationship status? oh so married. and oh so loving it.

3. Ever have a near-death experience? oh yeah. my mom & i were broadsided by a drunk when i was 20. not a good scene.

4. What is the name of the song that's stuck in your head right now? the theme for Good Eats. only because the show just came on. hey - it's better than "it's a small world".

5. Name a celebrity you would marry? the only one i think i could live with, without killing because of his seemingly lack of ego: George Clooney. he just seems like a real grown up. and the fact that he's adorable, even with gray hair, doesn't hurt much either.

6. Who will cut and paste this meme first? hmmmm...Linda? Allison?

7. Has anyone ever said you look like a celebrity? Benji? no. seriously, the only time is when the mail guy @ work said i looked like the girl from Gilmore Girls. i was totally flattered...until i realized he meant the chubby one. not that she's not cute, but, well...you know.

8. Do you wear a watch? What kind? i go back and forth. right now, no. but next week, who knows?!

9. Do you have anything pierced? oh yeah. two holes in each ear (but the top two i have let close up and the baby nose. you shoulda seen what i made the stud in my nose do today.

10. Do you have any tattoos? as much as i would like to, because it would totally go with my hippy persona, i gotta say no. i'm a big chicken. and if i change my mind, i'm stuck.

11. Do you like pain? oh no. and even if i did, you think i'd admit it here? sheesh. but no.not a chance.

12. Do you like to shop? oh yeah...groceries, scrapbook supplies, books, records...

13. The last thing you paid for with cash? my lunch.

14. The last thing you paid for with credit card? my last trip to Reno. i'm due for a fix. for Reno, that is, not a credit card binge.

15. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? the Husband - he was on his way home and looking for some meatballs in his spaghetti. grrr..

16. What is on your desktop background? an ocean scene...sigh. albino girl would love to be at the beach right about now...with SPF 5000.

17. What was the last movie you watched? Dreamgirls. i swear, i've worn a hole in the middle of the DVD.

18. What was the last book you read? Paula Deen's autobiography. right now i'm working on "Son of a Witch," by the same man who wrote "Wicked." but it's a dark, hard read. i gotta augment it with "Ball of Fire," a bio of Lucy Ball.

and i pick you!

jump back. you are in the presence of greatness.

ok, not really. but it sounds good.

i got home from another hellacious day at work. (note: the Boss is away on paternity leave for three weeks. i'm in charge. i've already had trouble with some in my group. this is not fun)
surprisingly, i didn't crack open the margarita mix OR the Ben & Jerry's.

aren't you proud? you should be.

the fun thing going on, is that they are slurrying the parking area here at Casa de O'Mahony. they think it'll take all week, so we're parking on the street, along with the complex next door AND the houses around our place.

doesn't this sound like fun?!

so today, i decided to cook up some spaghetti sauce and cook some snausages in our Ronco Showtime Rotisserie Grill.
(yes. we have one. the husband found one slightly used @ a car parts swap meet he loves to frequent. he and i are such suckers for the stuff on infomercials. we don't buy. we're just suckers for the informercials. and yes, it works pretty well)

the snausages are now basking in the warm loving glow of spaghetti sauce.

here's my issue: when Husband and i were courting, i, being a firm believer that the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach, blah, blah, blah. so, again, using the Nancy Drew Cookbook (as i have for a gazillion years), i would make him spaghetti & meatballs or snausages, with home-made/from scratch sauce.

what.was.i.thinking. i have created a monster. he will no longer eat any other sauce than mine. don't get me wrong, i'm not complaining. really. it's just a pain sometimes when i feel pressed for time and he sounds sooo pathetic when i say i may get a jar from the store.

and i am such a pushover.

but - back to the presence of greatness.
i'm just feeling pretty dang efficient, so that when himself comes home, all i have to do is put the pasta on. and that only takes about 12 minutes.

(edited: the Husband just called. i had called him earlier and asked which he would prefer with his spaghetti: snausage or meatballs. i assumed he'd pick snausage. he just called to say he wants meatballs. too bad, i say {so sympathetic}. you're getting snausages. "yeah, but if you cook meatballs, then i can have both." he says. and like a fool, i'm cooking both. i guess since he threw me a party i can make the meatballs. but now we're even.)

que bueno.

you may kiss my ring.

in other news....

Linda has stole...er, borrowed, 8 random things. so i'm gonna think of 8 more here.

1. while i LOVE George Clooney and think he's one of the coolest beings on the planet, i have not seen any of the "Ocean's" movies. and they look totally cool and fun.
2. in elementary school, one of my friends, who was a guy, and i looked like we were brother & sister. we told people our parents had been married, divorced and remarried, with our mom taking me, and our dad taking him.
3. i love peanut butter & banana sammiches
4. i was in Who's Who of American High School Students two years in a row
5. i love Disneyland, but never did like Disney cartoon shorts.
6. once won blue ribbons at some piano recitals. but that was a long time ago.
7. never learned to roller skate. and unless they come up with a big ass skate for my big ass, it ain't a gonna happen, neither.
8. i always wanted to be a monster @ Knott's Berry Farm Halloween Haunt. closest i ever came to it was being an archaeologist in a mummy maze for the kids' haunt. we gave away Snoopy watches and my niece & nephews all got a LOT of watches for Christmas.

ta. happy Monday.

this is SO not on Weight Watchers...

but it's sooooooooo good. and been so long since i found 'em.

go here.

and enjoy the goodness.

wait...what?

today started like any other weekend day here at Casa O'Mahony. slept in a little. Husband spent the night on the recliner...not because anything happened, he just fell asleep there last night and i could not wake him up. so, after a while, i just decided he could sleep there and if he woke up later, could come to bed.

never did. yay for me!

this a.m., he decides he's going to go in to work. oh joy. so much for us spending some time together. or breakfast. or whatever.

and Yours Truly, coming off the pity party and emotional upheavals of the last few days didn't feel good to boot. nothing horrible, just a little sinus action/headache.
and after watching "The Starter Wife," off he trotted to work.''

after showering, dressing and eating, i started surfing...when the sinus pill i took kicked my butt and off to the Land of Nod i went.

without a passport.

about noonish, the phone woke me up. Husband wanted me to meet him for lunch. i declined, after all, i felt like crap, and still was kinda drugged from the Advil. back to sleep for me.
a little bit later, my cell phone ringing woke me, but still being stoned..er, drugged, i couldn't see my way clear to get up from the couch.

a minute later, the house phone rang. my friend, Kristie, was calling from her truck where she was stranded. the girl lives up in the High Desert/Apple Valley area about a 1.5-2hr. drive from Mostly Smoggy Southern California. and she was stuck down here.
the truck had broke down, she said, and while she had called the Auto Club, they were swamped and wouldn't be out for about two hours.

she's diabetic. her blood sugar was dropping. c-r-a-p.

bright one that i am, i realized that where Brendan is at work, he's not too far from where Kristie is. mind you, Kristie is not sure where she is, only that she's near a park.

so, i grab my cell and call Brendan, and while conference calling, relay where Kristie thinks she is. Brendan, i figure, can grab some OJ, head over, and save the day.

five minutes later, he calls. again. he has to go back to work and can't go save Kristie. so it's up to me. drugged to the gills.

i am mad. i am angry. i am so disappointed in my husband. i don't ask for much, really. and feeling betrayed, i drive down to Santa Ana..about 30 minutes from our place.
you see, when we were at the restaurants with the baby and my friends, watching him sing to the baby was too much for me, so i ended up in the ladies room doing a little sobbing.

like most guys, he's sometimes clueless. had no idea what was going on.

and now i'm picking up the pieces for something i asked him to do.
on the way down, i find a 7-11 (a convenience store here) and grab the largest orange juice i can find.

now i'm panicking. what if i can't find her? what if i get lost? will the paramedics find her if called, since she doesn't even know where she is?

by the grace of God, i end up on the street she says she thinks she's on. luckily for me, it's at the Santa Ana Zoo, where B & i were a few months ago. and with ease, i find her, sitting on her tailgate. i pull up and hand her the oj, as well as some donuts i grabbed from home before i left.
knowing she said the kids were hungry, i asked if i could go to Taco Bell for food.

no need, she says, they just found out that the zoo had a food court they were going to hit. well, drink your oj, i nag, and i am gonna get you some glucose tabs, so you can have them the next time this happens. keep them in the car, and you should always have some crackers in here, too, blah blah blah.

gad, i'm annoying.

after parking, i walk with her to find her kiddos. i'm really worried now, because she's staggering badly. i'm glad i have my wallet, at least then i can shove some food down her gullet.
we walk in the gate and look around the playground..no kids to be seen. over to the food court, again, no young un's.

maybe they're over here, she says, and we go around the corner of the restroom. and there they are. thank hea....

what the hell is my husband doing here? saying happy birthday??

oh.my.buddah.

my parents are here. one of my old friends from work is here with her husband.

holy freaking party, Batman. it's a surprise party. for me.

i do not believe this. the Husband actually pulled this off. and daaaang was he mad at me, when i said i didn't want to go to lunch.

well?! i didn't feel good! hel-lo?! 'sides, i had no clue.

not a one.

it takes a lot to render me speechless, kids. a lot.
i had nothing to say. i stood there with my hand over my mouth. "are you still mad, auntie vowel?" the kids ask.
i have nothing to say.

we have El Pollo Loco for lunch. we go on a scavenger hunt. we ride the little train around the park. we eat cake.

and my husband, the king of unplanning (he hates planning things like this) pulled this off. even though, for about an hour, we were both totally pissed at the other.
i'm over it, by the way.

so, while yesterday and Thursday night sucky-sucked-sucked, this really was the capper of my birthday. i've never had one last dang near a week.

and i'm still shaking my head that he pulled this off and that i didn't figure a dang thing out.

about last night...

dinner was good last night.

but if you remember this, well...she brought the baby last night - which i knew would happen.

she's absolutely beautiful.

Husband even held her. the baby started fussing a little and he just started singing so softly to her.

i lost it. crying at your own party is a real buzz kill.

ended up in the bathroom for about ten minutes, trying to pull it together.

i can't stand it. just when i think i can move on, i end up right back at the bottom of the pit of emotion.

happier posts later, i promise.