Roundabout Getaway

Just a few journal-ly thoughts on my second biz trip sans baby . .

• Being a Mummy still means I am phucking incapable of getting to a destination with getting incredibly lost (though, miraculously, I still can make it on time, WTF?!
  
• Roundabouts. Sigh. AARRRGGGHHHH. Another SIGH!


• I was not nearly as nervous on this trip that the baby would freak out that I was away from her, but this is probably because it was only for one night


• I do love D.C., despite the idiots running/ruining it. I really should have gone there my junior year of college liked I had always planned, and interned on Capitol Hill. Sigh. Oh well, love takes you in different directions, I guess!

My hotel stay deserves it's own little set of notations, too . . .

• It was my third time staying in a Kimpton Hotel, and I was blown away for a third time!


• The Hotel Rouge was a challenge to find, but thanks to their sympathetic front desk I did eventually


• The room was even bigger than I had imagined (yee haw, bigger isn't always better, but when it comes to room size it sure sways me when there is plenty o' room to move)


• I felt all shiny and new having an evening (despite being work-dictated) in which my only responsibilities were to take care of myself


• It felt luxurious to be able to roll around in a bed so comfy, with super-plump pillows that seemed made just for me


• Though I didn't get a whole lot of sleep, I felt strangely refreshed and relaxed as I sat in meetings on Day Two of the conference

So, to sum, I battled some Being-Away-From-Baby Guilt, but I still can firmly pronounce the biz trip a success, even if for selfish reasons.

Packing Tips (bumping Cheesy Pilaf from the top spot)

I previously admitted my cooking faux pas that resulted in Cheesy Pilaf (ick). I should share that since then I have successfully cooked Ric.e-A-Ron.i and Scallo.ped Potato.es and both tasted delicious (though I did not cook them at the same time, LOL).

But something even ranked higher on the F'up Scale. And it belongs to Dr. J.

Two weekends ago we went on our annual outing to Ohio with my wild and wonderful second cousins. It was probably not as fun this time around, because it was the first time we made such a trip with Lil Pumpkin (traveling ANYWHERE with a toddler is stressful!), and it meant we couldn't stay up as late, had to get up earlier, and couldn't chance a hangover via excess drinking. Also, the cabins were SUPER-dry and thus myself and Lil Pumpkin were rather congested (and our humidifier went on strike the second night, grrr).

After we came back on Sunday, I went to shower later that evening. I was pleasantly surprised as I searched for my hairbrush that Dr. J had taken it upon himself to put away ALL of our toiletries! THANK YOU! Big help, and I appreciated it! Everything was magically put in it's place, and it was one less thing on my "to do" list, down to my Amb.ien sleeping pills on my nightstand (in a child-proof bottle and out of little arms reach, of course). I popped one sleeping pill and drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, I got up with the baby, got her a bottle, and passed her off to Dr. J as I got ready. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and took my vitamins. This included the Rx of 2 foli.c a.cid tablets I take because of a hereditary disorder I have. As I was sitting at my vanity doing my makeup I thought "WOW, am I ever tired today, must be the whirlwind weekend!" At one point I was so disoriented that I swore I was watching myself from outside my body as I tried to apply my eyeliner straight, LOL. Damn, I need caffiene!

I went about my day, tired, but surprisingly productive. Came home, went through our evening routine, got the baby to bed on time, and a few hours later laid down in our bed. And being the lifetime insomniac that I am, I reached for my trusty Ambi.en on the nightstand. Only this time I looked at the bottle . . . FOLI.C ACI.D?!?!? WHAT THE PHUCK?!?!? My fol.ic a.cid is on the nightstand? Then what is in the bathroom medicine cabinet that I took 2 tablets of this morning?! I raced to the bathroom, and YEP, the Amb.ien was sitting where my f.olic ac.id normally rests. OH MY PHUCKIN GAWD!!! So, this means that last night I took one foli.c a.cid tablet and fell asleep, and this morning I gulped down TWO A.mbien (you should ONLY take one) and somehow managed to not kill myself operating heavy machinery like my car?!

So THAT would explain my morning fog as I tried to apply my makeup! And it would explain why I felt like I was in a coma at work.

I screamed for Dr. J, and explained what I had just figured out! I think he felt bad, and confused himself, as he knows the Amb.ien usually knocks me out.

So here is my lesson learned/packing tip: unpack your own MEDS!!

Cheesy Pilaf, anyone?!

6 months today

I am shaking my head thinking that 6 months ago today, at precisely 3:45 p.m. (okay, China time, which is actually 12 hours behind us, whatever), I became Mummy to the feisty, spirited, incredibly smart, funny, and breathtakingly beautiful baby who it stretched out on her "Dor.a Couch" a few feet from me, intently receiving her morning dose of "Sesam.e Str.eet."

How did I luck out like this?! I scrutinize other people's kids wherever I go, and NONE come close to being as gorgeous as mine. That's not bias . . . . it's a certifiable fact.

Thank you people of China, thank you birth parents who gave her Life, thank you foster family for loving and nurturing her until she was united with her Forever Family.

And here is what I will probably be doing later with "Suzie Snowflake" . . . . I am so lucky!

Happy Spring Festival to all!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nah Nah Nah Nah! (I Still Fit, Do YOU, Bee-yotch?!)

I love a good tradition, especially when it's mine.

So, let's recap . . .

I did it in 2005. And 2006.

I recorded it on this blog in 2007.

Again in 2008.

And now I give you 2009 . . . !!!

YEP, IT STILL FITS!!!!

Only this year I have the best accessory possible . . .

(I have a very stubborn daughter - she would only agree

to be in the photo if her froggie was included, LOL).

We celebrated over dinner tonight with champagne and our favorite cupcakes. And our Lil Pumpkin, of course.

By the way, I have thee funniest and charming story to tell about one of Dr. J's gifts to me . . . coming soon!!!

Thank YOU, Mr. President

I love Dennis Miller. Have seen him in concert, and just love, love, LOVE him every time I see his mug on t.v.

And he has summed up exactly what I am feeling to a "T," so I will leave it to him . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DdiKiMcpV2U

Thank you, also, Mr. President, for your appointments to the Supreme Court, especially that cutie Chief Justice Roberts! Thank you for your deep commitment to the protection of innocent human life, in this regard.I did not vote for President-Elect Obama, for multiple reasons. But I fervently hope that he does a terrific job as our new President! I remain very concerned about the nominations he will make to the Supreme Court ('cause there will be 1-3 retirements, I am sure).

I am not a single issue voter. I am someone who used to be pro-choice, but in 2003 found myself being changed to a pro-life philosophy when it came to unborn children. It's an issue that a President has unique power over via his nominations to the courts. I know people like to wave the big ol' "oh, but rape and incest and and save the life of the mother" exceptions, but the truth is that every state law on abortion HAS those exemptions already, and they account for less than .01% of all abortions in this country (of which there have been something like 40 million since Ro.e v. Wad.e). I can understand why those exemptions exist.

As an adoptive parent, I think about this alot . . . all of those children, being extinguished. Then I think about the millions of couples in this country, so desperate to cradle a child in their arms, not caring where or whom or how it came about . . . just wanting to love it, wholly, completely, fully, forever.

I have held back many times on my other blog, as well as refrained from commenting on others, about this issue. I have comforted women who have had abortions. I have supported (with my own time and money) women facing unplanned pregnancies who chose to give life to their baby, and raise it. And I have moved heaven and earth (and crossed continents) to bring home a baby from another country whose birth parents could not care for her, but gave her Life, and then gave her up so she could potentially have (as they prayed) a better life.

So Mr. President-Elect, here is my hope for your term . . . while being so busy keeping us safe, and addressing the economic problems many people are facing, among other issues, please take time to always start with the foundation of what is truly important . . . caring for and protecting our most innocent citizens of this earth, and that is our babies. Both the born, and the unborn. Help cultivate a culture of Life. Encourage adoption domestically and abroad. Send the message to judges (even the local ones, through your leadership and pulpit) that as*hole parents who F'up even one time do not deserve to get their children back. Increase the adoption tax credit immediately (it's about $11,000 if anyone's interested - foreign or domestic). Triple the adoption tax credit if the adopted child is over the age of 3 years old, or if the child (at any age) has a medical issue (mental or physical or emotional). Double the yearly deduction allowed for children who were adopted, to demonstrate the ongoing commitment to having all children placed in loving and stable homes. Build Ta.j Maha.l type buildings where pregnant women can live if they need a place to stay, help them find the right adoptive family, and then offer them COLLEGE TUITION MONEY (or some other form of assistance) for giving birth instead of getting an abortion!

Oh, and just to head off any other comments on this, please be aware that Dr. J and I most certainly DID try to adopt locally through an agency, and were willing to bring home a baby that was born addicted to drugs, too (we were in the running for a 4 month old boy born with opiates in his system, but he was ultimately placed with another couple - so don't EVEN tell me that nobody wants babies born addicted to drugs. NOT TRUE!). In fact, AFTER we were matched with our Lil Pumpkin we were actually matched with two other children locally . . a 15 month old boy, and a 2 year old boy . . . but because we had already committed to Lil Pumpkin (and the caseworkers for these additional little boys were not yet aware of that), we were legally not allowed to bring either home (most agencies will only place one child per year in your home). But we HAPPILY brought home Lil Pumpkin, who was considered a "Child of Promise" (meaning she has a medical issue in need of some fixin'). And of course, Lil Pumpkin is an answered prayer. [Someone remind me of this today at 6 p.m. when she is workin' my last nerve].

Are my ideas going to magically make abortions disappear? Hell no. Might it be a start? Yes. Will it encourage adoption? I think so. Will I get flamed for expressing these views on my other blog? Probably. Do I care? Yes - I hope I don't, and that people will speak out in favor of my ideas and views. I have "walked the walk" via being an adoptive parent, and have the street creds, IMHO.

Good luck, President-Elect Obama. And listen to your Joint Chiefs.

Cheesy Pilaf

I am a gawddamn idiot. Really.

When Dr. J and I moved in together back in Summer of 1996, I took it upon myself to teach him how to cook. I wasn't gourmet, but I could make several chicken dishes, and breaded pork chops. And anything that had instructions on a box.

I was thrilled when Dr. J wound up enjoying cooking, finding it relaxing. He began to take on more and more of it. At this point, I'd say he does 98% of it, truth be told. I confine my contributions to side dishes, namely those with instructions on a box. I can't even remember how to cook much of anything at this point.

So today, while Dr. J was outside tending to our snowy sidewalks and entertaining our daughter in the process (she loves ice and snow), I decided to "help" by cooking rice pilaf and scalloped potatoes. I have cooked both (closely following the directions each time) at least a thousand times since I was 15 years old.

And yet, as I was stirring both I couldn't figure out what was going wrong?! The rice pilaf was clumping funny, and the scalloped potatoes didn't have their usual cheesy color to them. Hmmm.

Then it occurred to me . . . I had mixed up the seasoning packets for both, putting the pilaf one into the potatoes, and vice versa.

I flung open the window, called out to Dr. J, and . . . confessed. He told me to "step away from the stove."

The rice pilaf tastes like a cheesy risotto. Or at least I think it does (I have never eaten risotto as far as I know). The potatoes are a total wash. Eh, the pilaf probably is, too.

I am a gawddamn idiot. I am thinking that I should further confine my culinary contributions to pouring the wine.

Wants & Needs

For the past decade I have used the logic of separating "Wants" from "Needs" in order to make decisions, prioritize, communicate, and so on. I find it to be quite useful, on a lot of fronts. Now that 2009 is here, and many of the blogs I frequent are stating their New Years Resolutions, I thought a "Wants & Needs" list might help me expeditiously move (or muddle) through the following year, and maybe make it a bright and shiny one in the process.


Here goes:

• I want to work out 5x's a week, including lifting weights 3x's per week.
• I need to spend a combined 5 full hours a week exercising, on a conveniently located treadmill (i.e. at home).

• I want to go away on a spa vacation.
• I need to have two pedicures a year, and quarterly nights away from home all to myself.

• I want to put more hours into my fabulous job.
• I need to work as efficiently as possible with the time I have, and embrace my existing ability to multi-task as a gift.



• I want to have a great time at my company's big Gala, and look fabulous while doing so.
• I need to sober up befor driving home, and look fabulous at the big Gala.

• I want to have a big spa-like bathtub in my house to escape to whenever I need respite.
• I need to bathe every other day, without feeling guilty for taking time away from _______ (fill in the blank with: Lil Pumpkin, chores, workstuff, sleep, Dr. J, emails, photo editing).

• I want to hike every weekend this coming spring and summer.
• I need to do something weekly that is very active and sweaty, outdoors, this coming spring and summer.

• I want to have no debts, be setting aside money for my kid's future, and my own (LOL) retirement.
• I need to feel financial secure, or at least on manageable ground.

• I want to be a Trophy Wife.
• I need to be the envy of bona fide trophy wifes. Okay, I want to be the envy of every woman - I freely admit it. I am competitive like that. It's residual chafe from years of NOT being the prettiest, smartest, funnest (I know it's not a word).

• I want to be able to sit through mass each week, listening and breathing and contemplating.
• I need for my daughter to get with MumMa's dream of timing her naps for during mass.

• I want to be a stylish and fashionable person again.
• I need to occasionally have a new dress. And shoes (and neither have to be expensive nor designer).

• I want a deep-tissue massage twice a month.
• I need to have somebody with strong hands rub my neck and back, for 10 minutes, once a week.

• I want to have crazy, fun, slightly buzzed, sex regularly.
• I need to have the urge to want crazy, fun, slightly buzzed, sex regularly.

• I want to tell my husband that I still think he is very attractive. And that when it wears cologne on the weekends (job prevents him from doing so during the week), it really turns me on.
• I need to do a better job of letting my fear prevent me from doing so.

• I want to have two new, reliable, Japanese crossover vehicles that get good gas mileage.
• I need to feel that I am driving a reliable vehicle, and not burst into tears nor rage when one of our vehicles breaks down or has some other mechanical issue beyond our control.

• I want to have a new kitchen for Dr. J to cook in.
• I need to pay for a bunch of other shit in our lives first.

• I want to be able to turn up the heat in our house without worrying about the bill next month.
• I need to feel warm without consequence.
  

• I want to rotate weekly meetups up with Lori, Hamster, Kelli, and Sandi for drinks and gossip and venting.
• I need to have standing dates with all of these people, and not feel so isolated and out of touch. And not feel guilty about being away from the baby when I do so.

Long Island redux

Let me cover the more memorable moments/lines of the trip:

• Visit to aquarium - my kid was not interested. Which was fine with me, since I do NOT like the smell of aquariums. Add in my nose being completely inflammed from sleeping in a super-duper dry guest house and, well, it was NOT a good mix for my poor little nose. Sniff!


• Air Mattresses - fine for one night. But not four nights. Don't get me wrong, I was thankful for the free place to sleep, and an entire guest house/cottage so we could have some private space to escape to each day. But I loathe air mattresses.


• Tie-Dyed Clothing - sigh, my BIL and SIL are still going out in public dressed in this shit. They are NOT giant hippies, either (though my SIL's ass was lookin' mighty giant, thank you very much, Santa!) But they have continued to wear their tie-dyed clothing as long as I have known them (entering the 16th year), and long before that they sported it too, I am told. Thank YOU, Dr. J, for being just-this-side of "Acceptable Metrosexual" when it comes to clothing - and never wearing: tie-dyed, flannel, beer t-shirts, a jean jacket, or ratty leather. Oh, and having stylish glasses (no matter how rarely you wear them).


• My FIL gave me a lecture on the wines indigenious [sp?] to North America. By genus and species. Yes, there were plenty of Latin words. Hullo 20 minutes of My Life that I can not reclaim!


• Our first night back home . . . I had this amazingly phucked up dream in which I am munching cookies while walking through a tunnel, all the while pissed off that Dr. J has joined a rock band that wants him to join them on tour. In London. And he wants me to okay him spending $5,500 on a last-minute plane ticket to meet up with the band. In London. LESSON TO BE LEARNED: Do NOT combine late-night Spanish champagne with "scoob.y snacks," no matter how well they seemingly pair together at the time.

The Year In Review

Normally I wait until the official last day of the year to do this, but since I am travelling it's gonna have to be a day early. Here's hoping that nothing shocking happens tomorrow that alters these lists -- then again, I will be seeing "The Bitch Cow," a.k.a. my S-I-L who needs to drop 20 pounds, and upset & humiliated me the last time I saw her, so who the phuck knows?! That's okay, I am in a much better place this year, one of strength, and I swear I will kick her cream puff ass if she so much as looks at me funny. Cheers!

WHAT WAS GOOD:

1. Falling in love with Lil Pumpkin the moment I saw her referral photos
2. Greasy, delicious, noodles and rice from "The Baby Restaurant."
3. Hearing Jane repeatedly ask "does anybody need any pure, bottled, water?!"
4. Chinese hospitality and housekeeping. And laundry.
5. Adrian's surprise packages.
6. Crazy cross-country chats.
7. Kimbolton!
8. Unlimited texting. Still.
9. Hope found me.
10. Watching my Dad fall in love with his granddaughter.
11. Being granted the privilege to love & parent the most amazing child that ever existed. And I am not biased. Really.

WHAT WAS BAD:

1. First-hand experience of just how much a toddler can grieve. As prepared as we were, it was still 100x's worse than anything you can imagine.
2. The Nanning Airport meltdown (Lil Pumpkin's and our own)
3. The IRS announcing mileage reimbursement is decreasing in 2009. Phuck.
4. Chinese heat & humidity.
5. The visit to the County Health Dept.
6. Extreme financial stress.
7. The repeat visit to the County Health Dept.
8. Losing/misplacing my beloved & semi-pricey RayB.ans. I have waaay sun-sensitive eyes and my el' cheapos ain't cuttin' it.
9. The Bath That Broke The Ceiling.
10. Cracks and crevices that deepen into caves.
11. The mourning of what likely happened to Yuanchun.

WHAT I LEARNED:

1. Attachment techniques work if you stay consistent!
2. How to clean my house in 60 minutes time, top to bottom. Okay, maybe 90 minutes. And okay, maybe just passable enough to fool visitors.
3. Micro-fleece is my friend. Meow. Not sexy, but warm.
4. Dr. J is capable of mowing the grass if it gets high enough.
5. God's power to bring together the right baby to us, under extraordinary circumstances.
6. My husband can dig way deep when he wants to. Evidence: walking, walking, and more walking. And then bonding, bonding, and more bonding.
7. Dr. J and I could NEVER have created a child more stunning than the one we adopted. Every inch of her is stunning.
8. Wedding details are far less stressful when you are a bridesmaid than when you are Thee Bride (love ya, Lori!)
9. I am Sydney Ellen Wade.
10. Things can get better.
11. Faith does make things possible, not easy. Truly. Just like the sign said near my house.
    

WHAT I WANT TO DO IN THE NEW YEAR (my potpourri category winner):

1. Get toned again.
2. Buy a treadmill and not feel guilty about it. (LMAO).
3. Embrace DVR.
4. Not cry when on a business trip.
5. Take more long baths. Uninterrupted.
6. Start/Finish the Life Book.
7. Hike on every sunny day. Or at least use the jogging stroller.
8. Feel sexy again.
9. Stay unapologetically patriotic and in-love with our troops!
10. Hook up with Howard again.
11. Fall in love all over again.
    

Redacted

Found the extra bottle (3/4's full) of eye makeup remover that I just KNEW was in my house somewhere. It was hiding out in my gym bag, all snug and cozy.

I think I am entitled to recess and an extra Butte.rfingers for this, right?! Oh wait, I ate all of the Butterf.ingers that Dr. J stowed in my Christmas stocking.

BTW, thanks for the terrific Christmas gifts, hon! I loved each one, and was mucho impressed with the thought you put into them, por favor ;o)

Bar.t Simpso.n Blackboard Moment

I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.

Oh, and if I were sent to the blackboard tomorrow? The message would be . . . "It's very difficult to get red wine stains out of little girl's pink jeans." Actually, I should make Dr. J write that one, as it was his wine, foolishly sitting on our IKE.A cocktail table, that Lil Pumpkin rode her new Big Whe.el into, which sent his wine glass flying. MumMa is smart enough to always stow her wine glass on the window sill. Or clutch it carefully in her hand ;o)

In Dr. J's semi-defense, I don't do too well with stains. I give it a feeble attempt, and then give up. I would rather just replace the item. There are few things I own that cost enough money to make me want to commit that kind of effort. In the case of Lil Pumpkin's ultra-pale pink jeans, they were bought at Target, by her Lahng Island grandmother. So I am out no money.

In other exciting news, I moved Lil Pumpkin DOWN a size in diapers. Her ass continues to swim in the size 4's, so I gulped and bought the 3's, and prayed the $32.04 investment at Sam's was not going to be one I regretted. They fit much better. She has gained close to 4 pounds over the past 5 months, and is 3 inches taller, too! However, she continues to have the same teeny booty as her Daddy (which, being as she is adopted, something we laugh about - the similarities she has to both of us, physically and in personality). Her little bum is super-pinchable, I have to refrain from doing it endlessly when she gets out of the tub!

I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.
I will remember to buy eye makeup remover.

'Cause if I have to use a baby wipe one more night (they have a tiny bit of aloe in them which is one of the same ingredients as eye makeup remover), I will rub my friggin' skin right off. Grrr.

Christmas Eve

Okay, so it is slightly sucky that I have to put in an appearance at the office today (a half-day). But at least I got to hear the awesome, and poignant lyrics of my fave John May.er song, "Say," on the drive in. This song was featured on the travel blog we did when we went to China to be united with our Lil' Pumpkin.

Every time I hear this song, there is this amazing mental video montage playing in my head . . . feelings and scenes and frustrations and doubts and tears that surrounded the fertility exploration and then the adoption paperchase that culminated in Thee Supreme Privilige of being granted the opportunity to become my daughter's Forever Mommy by the Chinese people. And then there are the rush of feelings that accompany the giant (and I mean GIANT) leap of faith it took to believe that THIS was actually going to happen . . . that she would be ours.

Take all of your wasted honor

Every little past frustration

Take all your so called problems

Better put 'em in quotations

Say what you need to say (x7)

Say what you need to saaaay...

Walking like a one man army

Fighting with the shadows in your head

Living out the same old moment

Knowing you'd be better off instead

If you could only

Say what you need to say (x7)

Say what you need to saaay...

Have no fearFor giving in

Have no fear

For giving over

You better know that in the end

It's better to say too much

Then never to say what you need to say again

Even if your hands are shaking

And your faith is broken

Even as the eyes are closing

Do it with a heart wide open... wide...

Say what you need to say (x7)

Say what you need to

Say what you need to

Say what you need to say...

The past several years worth of holidays have F'in sucked, with a capital F. This year, this child, have changed that . . . have changed me.

Jesus may have been sent to save all of us, but surely God also sent Lil' Pumpkin to save me, too.

Powerless

I have decided to admit the following . . . I AM POWERLESS (meaning nada willpower to resist) WHEN IT COMES TO THE FOLLOWING:

• Butterf.ingers candy - ooooooh, baby, I do love you. I have eaten like 6 of the bite-sized ones over the past few days. I am trying not to stress about this, since I dropped like 4 more pounds last week when I was sick, and so far haven't put it back on (which brings my post-baby weight loss to 12 pounds, yeah for me!)


• Victor.ia's Secret Fashion Show - they showed the rerun on tv the other night . . . and I was mesmerized all over again - imagining myself on the catwalk, grooving along to the awesome music selections, whimpering for the lingerie to be in my personal repertoire, sniff sniff.


• White-chocolate covered pretzels - my personal version of crack coc.aine, thank you!


• A thin V-neck sweater - damn, they look good on me, and are so versatile ;o)


• Free drinks - I admit it. Especially if I can combine it with semi-legit work schmoozing


• Gossip - Live it, love it, embrace it!
  
• Lil Pumpkin's Giggle - And I know just how to make her do it (chase her around the room, toss her into the air so she lands on her bed, or hold her upside down - I tell ya, my baby girl is a fearless daredevil!)

Christmas Lovings and Longings

Okay, so this is the first year in quite a few that I don't dread Christmas. If you don't already know why, please feel free to check in on my other blog (which, I am thrilled to say, has well over 18,000 hits - WOW!)


Still, in spite of several shitty years of wishing I could fast forward from the day after Thanksgiving to sometime in January, there were always a few things I could count on as my Christmas Guilty Pleasures:

• The Vic.toria's Secre.t Fashion Show - it ALWAYS delivers! In my Fantasy Life, I am up there walking with them, blowing kisses, winking at the celebs in the crowd, and tossing my fabulous hair over my shoulder as I model dangerously sexy underwear.


• Christmas Crunch - mmmmm, a recipe passed to me by a guy from Nashville about a decade ago, it basically involves melting white chocolate overtop Ric.e Chex, Cheeri.os, peanuts, almonds, min-pretzels, and whatever else you feel like mixing in. Mmmm, white chocolate soooo smacks my lips of Christmastime!


• Shopping - okay, so I haven't had the money to do so, but I still enjoy the by-proxy feeling in the air while wandering the stores. The people-watching alone is worth the hassle to find a parking spot (of which I have terrific Parking Lot Karma!)


• Sending Out Christmas Cards - I do enjoy it, I admit it. I have trimmed my list back every year (I think we will probably only send about 90 this year, as I am pissed at the non-senders and late-senders). And this year I am not quite as much as living-in-fear at receiving photo cards, as you will see from this Other Blog Entry (okay, so maybe just a little bit, which will probably never go away). Please Jesus, nobody send me any glitter cards (embarrassing story), though I have learned my lesson, I swear!!!
• A Real Tree - want to like crazy, but CAN'T DEAL with thought of pine needles on my hardwood floors being possibly ingested by my Lil Pumpkin, nor can I handle the stress of her tipping it over and sappy water going everywhere. Hell, I am already dreading the constant chorus of "No, No, NO!" that will emit from my mouth as I try to keep her from yanking ornaments off of the artificial tree we will put up. I suspect it will look like something Cha.rlie Br.own would be ashamed of, as I can't possibly put up my favorite ornaments lest I chance an ER visit for a toddler who managed to swallow a sequin, glitter in her eyes, or some other bodily injury due to being poked by something too sharp for her inquisitive little hands. I never thought I'd be this stressed out by the thought of a Christma.s tree

Cysta-Bitch

So last Friday I was all hoo-ray about the sweet deal I got on those cysts being removed. I am STILL happy about the price, but let's recap the past week's developments on the issue . . .

Using the cream prescribed by the Physican Assistant (which, again, Praise Gawd, came with thee cheapest co-pay possible), my face has been peeling like I forgot to apply sunscreen while away on a tropical island somewhere. Okay, it's not THAT bad (am I dramatic? NEVER!!!) But the first week or so using the cream had me flaking and peeling. I was warned this would happen, but still it was annoying.

But after the scabbing from the cyst removal was finished I noticed that ONE of the cysts was still there, argh!!! Bitch, bitch, bitch! So I called the doctor's office and then said to come back in this morning for another go-see.

Luckily (for them and me and Dr. J, who had to listen to me whine) most of the peeling is now concluded. But they still needed to ZAP some of that one lingering-not-quite-yet-gone-bitch-cyst.

ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP.

That was 9 times - did you count as you read along?! Yes, NINE ZAPS of the electric needle. Just under my eye.

I deserve . . . I dunno, SOMETHING for being so tough. For not crying. For not hitting or kicking anybody.

Maybe a cupcake. Or ice cream. Or a massage. Or all three.

Bitch, be gone!

Micro Meow (meee-yow!)

I have found somebody new. Somebody who warms my legs and loins like no other ever has.

Here's a picture of my new love.

I purposely keep my house quite cool because (A) gas heat is expensive, and (B) I start to have all sorts of allergy/stuffy nose issues if it's kept too warm. But I must admit that I can't keep it quite as cool as I did last year because I think the social worker would give me a hard time if my Lil' Pumpkin turned into Lil' Popsicle. In past years I had a heated mattress pad on my bed, but I am too paranoid about Lil' Pumpkin reaching for the cord that would have to be connected between it and the wall socket, so I was leery of bringing it out of storage, and certainly you can NOT put a heated mattress pad in a toddler's room, LOL!

Lil' Pumpkin SUCKS at keeping a blanket on her (what toddler does?!), and it has already taken me some coaxing to get her to wear footed pajamas (she was a big fan of having me rub her tummy as she fell asleep, skin on skin. I give an excellent tummy rub, so who can blame her!)

But I still worried that she was too cold at night, so I began investigating the possibility of (gasp!) flannel sheets on her mattress. I was raised by an anti-flannel sheet mother ("the pilling, egads!"), and live with an anti-flannel man (no metrosexual likes flannel, unless it's a sleep shirt resting precariously on the shoulder of a Vict.oria's Secre.t calatog model with a peek of pushup bra underneath).

But then I discovered micro-fleece sheets! I bought some for Lil' Pumpkin's bed, and the first night I laid her down to sleep on them . . . ooooooooh, baby! I DIDN'T WANT TO GET OUT OF HER BED, THEY FELT SO COZY AND WARM!!! The next day I ordered Dr. J to pick up a set for our big bed. Ahhhhhh, what a divine night that was!

And now, my by-chance discovery of these micro-fleece lounge pants?! HOLY PHUCK I AM IN NIRVANA, PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!

Micro-fleece pants, micro-fleece sheets, and my big, fluffy white robe?! Oh girl, I am toasty!!!

I Should Play the Lottery

I just returned from having a medical/cosmetic procedure done on my face that I was extremely nervous about. Basically, it was to have a couple of teeny cysts removed that, while benign, have been bugging me and making me inscure about my non-makeup face. Part of my reluctance to have this taken care of was due to it being benign, which means "not covered by insurance."

The dermatologist told me it would probably run anywhere from $350 - $500 for the removal, and referred me to a cosmetic dermatologist.

I won't lie . . . it was, um, painful. Repeatedly. But the pain was lessened by the cost: $25. Yes, just $25. Three different office staff (including the one doing the removal) said "$25." I paid cash, have a receipt that says paid in full, and went on my still-hurting-but-otherwise-merry-way. They also gave me an Rx to help even out my complexion which I was CERTAIN would not be covered by insurance, but I figured, what the heck, I should just get it filled.

The pharmacy called me 10 minutes ago with the cost . . . COVERED BY MY INSURANCE (due to the diagnosis code the Physican's Asst put on the Rx), and thus IT'S ONLY A $10 CO-PAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am so friggin' happy!!!

And my face is reasonably presentable, too! (I had envisioned a week of Nico.le R.itchie behavior, wearing giant sunglasses to avoid being viewed as hideous by the public, LOL).

Off to get my hair cut now - yes, a full day of beauty (if you count yesterday's manicure, too).

Office Spouse

While watching "Fox & Friends" this morning the gang was discussing the "office spouse" concept, and stating who at the station was who else's office spouse, and so on.

This made me a bit wistful for my old job. Oh, I do NOT miss my a-hole boss, nor much of the B.S. we had to endure as employees, but I sometimes miss it when I watch the tv show "The Of.fice," because we had some of those same bizarre idiots and management behaviors at my prior employer.

All of which made having an Office Spouse a necessity, LOL. You needed somebody to hang with, gossip with, confide in, conspire with. Not to sound like a bigamist [sp?], but I think I actually had 2 office spouses at one point, until the one left for another job. Then the other one did, too, but we at least still get together occasionally to have lunch or catch up.

My current job is waaaaaaay better, in so many ways, but sometimes I miss the wackiness of a large office. But I mainly I miss the friendships, the commraderie, and of course my Office Spouse, Larry.

Soup

I have been fighting the flu (or what I suspect may be the flu) for the past 24 hours. Achy, sore throat, energy non-existent, and so on. Thankfully, this coincided with Ve.terans Day (thanks Vets, I "heart" each and every one of you!), so my mom and stepfather were off work, and thus able to take my Lil Pumpkin off my hands so I could cut down her exposure to her germy Mommy, and give me a wee bit of peace.

Around lunchtime, as I was propped up on the couch in my fluffy robe, banging away at some emails while 902.10 reruns blared on the tv, Dr. J surprised me with my favorite soup from a local restaurant. I was stunned. And touched. And it was delicious.

It was so simple, but it meant so much. It had been so long since I last had it that I had forgotten I even liked it.

Me Time

I got to do something last night and this morning I haven't had the opportunity to experience in a long time.

It's called "Me Time."

I got to take a bath, alone, and in peace. And truly enjoy the experience. Breathing deeply, sighing as the hot water enveloped my achy and neglected body. It was heavenly. No distractions, no unwanted or outside noises. Just me, hot water, and my own swirly thoughts.

And then this morning I treated myself to a hot shower. Alone, and again in peace.

It felt like Christmas.