Is This Wrong?

I feel kinds skeevy about this . . . I have been addicted to working out to the Chri.s Br.own song "With You" lately. I love bopping along to it, eyes closed, on my treadmill. What makes me feel skeevy is that I downloaded the song after he beat the shit outta Rihan.na. Sigh. Damn you, Chris! BAD, BAD, BAD :o(

But ever since I saw Heidi Klum walk down the runway for the televised Vic.toria's Sec.ret show, blowing and wink at her husband S.eal in the audience, I have adored this song. Something about it reminds me of my own husband. Not the smacking-the-shit-outta-your-woman thing, of course, LOL. But the song is sweet, and there is this element of beating the odds and overcoming a bunch of crap that I find implied within the lyrics.

Maybe it's because Dr. J wouldn't laugh at my secret desire to be a VS runway girl, either, even though my dream job is to be Chief of Staff for a Republican President or Vice-President. He isn't threatened by my career success, my lack of a verbal filter, and can make it mentally mesh with my desire to be feminine and girly all at the same time.

And of course he fully supports my pretending to be a VS model, hee hee, by wearing their fashions.

Especially the bras. And especially lately (and if you know us in real life you know what I mean). Gawd, they are looking goooooood ;o)

Grief and Anger

I wish I still had my first blog, and could link to it, and the post I wrote about how among the thousands of innocent lives that were extinguished on September 11, 2001, was that of the extraordinary Father Mychal Judge.

I remain as angry as I was those first hours. I still weep with as much emotion and grief for those who perished, and those who were left behind, both their families, and the first responders and security personnel who lived this so intimately.

I still want thousands of scum, and that's what they are, SCUM, to be rounded up, tortured to within an inch of their lives, and made to suffer. And then I want God to deliver final justice to them.

Thank you, military service members and their families, thank you police officers, fire fighters, and EMS workers. You are always the first people I thank in my prayers, and I teach my little daughter to have the same respect. God Bless You all, and may God continue to Bless America!

Laying in Repose

Yeah, sorry, I have been sucky about updating this blog. So much has been happening in my life (that I won't/can't comment on here) that I didn't trust myself. I was afraid to spout off, truth be told.

Anyhoo, back to the topic at hand . . . Laying in Repose. Okay, so Teddy Kennedy is laying in repose at his brother's library. Anybody else think it should have been in a bar that serves high-end vodka? Shit, that was terrible of me.

But it got me to thinking, WHERE would I want to "lay in repose" so that yinz could come pay your respects to moi? I have narrowed it down to:

• Winery in Northern California (Cakebread, Duckhorn, or Quivara, perhaps?)
• One of the newer Krispy Kreme stores
• A Japanese hibachi restaurant (love 'em)

Based on my choices, I suppose I want my mourners to have a chance to eat or imbibe as they reflect on my life and times. Unfortunately, it's against state law (at least ours) to have food served in a funeral home, hence the need for me to move it off-site. Eh, in the old days they had the body laying in the family house, and the mourners just came there.

I wonder where those I love would chose for their "laying in repose"? Dr. J would probably chose some high end golf course (Torrey Pines? Augusta?)

That's My Guy!

I have been a fan of Congressman Peter King for a while. It's tough enough to be a Republican, let alone one on Long Island. But King is smart, says what he thinks, and means it. Which includes not getting caught up in the MJ-worship, especially as it clouded over the sympbolism of the Independence Day weekend.

Yes, I feel sorry for MJ's kids. Having watched my own daughter be terrified and consumed by grief, my heart aches for them.

However, I am standing by Congressman King and his remarks.

Let's roll the clip . . .

Billy Mays

We were saddened and shocked to hear the news about Bill Mays. With all of the celeb-deaths lately (Farrah, Ed McMahon, Mi.chael Ja.ckson, Fred Travelina), I care most about Billy. Think about it . . . this guy had more impact and effect on the average person's life (or house or possessions) than any of the so-called bona-fide celebrities. And ya gotta admire someone this scrappy, who schills the ol' fashion way, but taking the salesmanship to a new level. My stepfather grew up in the same neighborhood as Mr. Mays and knew him as a youth (which I didn't know until last night).


Dr. J liked Billy Mays, but in the past 6 or so months he has been lured to the dark side, becoming a Vince Shlomi groupie. Vince, you probably know better as the "Sham-WOW" guy on the infomercials. As soon as we learned of Mr. Mays' death, I turned to Dr. J and said "I hope your Vince has an airtight alibi!"

I have to add in a Biden-quip, in our never-ending quest to work Biden into all scenarios . . . had Biden been the paramedic who responded to the Mays' 911 call, Billy would be alive today. But Biden can't do everything (he has to save some things for Chuck Norris, right?!).

Makes me wanna go out and stock up on the products Billy pitched, as a final tribute.

WE "HEART" YOU, BILLY!!!!!!!!!!!!

UPDATE: Thanks to Chrissie, for alerting me to the fact that ol' Vince is a thug! Yep, I'd say this makes him the prime suspect, eh?!

Sanford & Sin (how overused it THAT?!)

Okay, while everyone in the media and political circles is a'busy ridin' high on their proverbial horse about oh-how-wrong or oh-how-the-mighty-have-fallen Governor Sanford is, I am gonna take a slightly different tack.

I should first disclose that I do not give TWO SHITS what someone does in their personal, se.xual life. Seriously. So long as it does not involve children or animals, I. DO. NOT. GIVE. TWO. SHITS! I don't believe in those kind of Litmus Tests when it comes to holding elected office. Now, do I want someone who abuses drugs or alcohol, or is unkind to animals or abuses (physically or mentally) their children serving the public via elected office?! A big, fat, "NO!" But if it has to do with matters of their se.x life, I don't care. Things are scary on the economic front, we are facing giant terro.rism issues (domestic and abroad), and I have my own day-to-day crap to contend with. So, Sanford (or insert whomever else is gettin' play on the side) is having a side of fries with their happ.y meal? Yawn. Next!

But here is what I find intriguing about the Sanford situation . . . have you read the emails?! I am actually impressed at how thoughtful they seem. Whether he is or not, they seem rather heartfelt, with that long-distance/circumstances-preventing quality to it. When I heard the media report there were emails, I was expecting "Oooh baby, your t*ts are so fine, I can't wait to phuck you again," yadda yadda. So, what they did exhange was quite a surprise to me.

Still, it was a dumb ass move on his part to try and keep a trip to Argentina on the ol' down low. DUDE, you are the GOVERNOR of state! You can't be pullin' disappearing acts, ya know?! How can a guy be smart enough to get elected governor, yet dumb enough to drive HIS OWN SUV to the airport, and fly under his own name (I realize, you can't fly under a fake name anymore), and venture to a FOREIGN COUNTRY. Cuckoo, anyone?! I don't think he should resign over this. But I do think his judgement should be questioned for making so many dumb ass moves - this guy is in charge of the S.C. Nat'l Guard?! Shouldn't his Cloak & Dagger skills be just a wee bit better, therefore?!

Biden blogging

I realized that we need a place in which to record all of the amazing things Joe Biden does, that he is not getting credit for in the media. Like landing that plane safely on the Hudson (LOL, it wasn't Sully, that's a coverup!) Or rescuing those sailors taken captive by the pirates (please, Navy seals my ass). It was BIDEN, baby! He rescues kittens from trees repeatedly, he sorts recycling in urban neighborhoods, he shovels the snow of the White House driveways, and so much more. And the media IGNORES all of this!

Remember that plane a few days ago, flying across the Atlantic, in which the pilot died and the co-pilot had to take over? First of all, the co-pilot was "Roger Murdoch," (hullo, Kareem Abdul Jabar), and what you didn't hear was that Biden was dispatched from his bunker, and a cable was hooked up from Air Force Two to the plane. Biden then zip-lined it into the plane, served drinks and passed peanuts to the passengers, and THEN landed that plane safely.

WHY DOESN'T BIDEN GET CREDIT FOR THESE DEEDS?! Conservative conspiracy, I tell ya.

Angels (that's my peeps in Cali), please make sure to remind me to record other Biden acts as we become aware of them - if we don't stand up for Biden, who will be left to stand up for us?!

Happy Father's Day (oh bee-have!)

I could take a few minutes to write about how Dr. J is such a wonderful father (he is), and how much Lil Pumpkin loves him (she does). But I don't think either of us will remember his first Father's Day for any of those sentimental reasons.

Instead, Dr. J will remember, for the first time, being thankful for Caill.ou, and how it captures Lil Pumpkin's attention completely.

So that WE could both have a few free minutes be upstairs while she was occupied downstairs. Which prompted us, for the first time ever, to utter the line "Just a minute, sweetheart, Mummy is, uh, helping Daddy with something upstairs. We'll be downstairs in a minute!"

[Cue the adult giggling and mad scramble to put back on our clothes, ("Where are my shorts?!") and return back to the first floor before Lil Pumpkin's inquiries escalated into wails].

Hee hee.

Oh, and here is probably our best verbal exchange of the day:

• Ms. J: "I forgot to get you a card. Hope you don't mind."
• Dr. J: "This is better. It has sound effects."

Get a Grip, SENATOR MA'AM!

What an idiot. Seriously, she is a fruitcake on may issues, but I am aghast that she would feel the need to direct an Army Brigadier General to call her "Senator." And then follow up with "It's just a thing, I worked so hard to get that title, so I'd appreciate it," . . . um, 'cause the Brigadier General didn't work, um, HARDER, to get HIS title?!


Lady, get your thumb out of your ass and wise up. Ever hear of military protocol?! It's not an insult* to be called "ma'am," especially in the military. It's a sign of respect and infinitely good manners.

* For the record, as long as it's being done with respect and/or affection (and especially if said by a man with a southern accent), I enjoy being called "Sweetie," "Honey," or referred to as a "girl".

WWCND?

We have been re-decorating (or trying to, at least) our bedroom. We haven't done squat to it since moving into our house over two years ago (that's sad, huh?!), and well, it's time.

In trying to be resourceful, but creative, I went into a fabric store (cue the scary music) to look for potential fabric for curtains. I ran across this "wall art" appliques and purchased an NYC city skyline for us to potentially put on one wall (looks great with a brightly colored wall behind it). It got me thinking to wall quotes that I have seen on some decorating sites. Now, normally I think these look good, but that people choose dumb ass, hokey, mushy quotes that essentially de-ball any man who portends to live in that abode.

So Dr. J and I got to thinking . . . why not put up an outrageous quote in our bedroom, that makes US laugh, and satisfies US?! Hell, it's OUR BEDROOM, and it's no supposed to be a crowdpleaser, just a WE-pleaser!

Which brought us to Chuck Norris (of course, LOL), and the awesome Chuck Norris Facts site. It's probably been a good year since we were on this web site, and damn, it makes us laugh so hard and loud every time!!! Seriously, it felt like old times as we giggled over them. So, yeah, we're being all low-rent and actually considering putting a Chuck Norris Fact on our bedroom walls. It's OUR room, after all. And if it puts us in a playful mood, and feel connected, then, well, isn't that The Point?!

(Think the Realtor will want us to remove it when it comes time to sell, LMAO?!)

T-6

Well, it's ON. Date Night, or DOUBLE-DATE night, is on!

I am not sure which I am more excited about . . . an actual DATE NIGHT for Dr. J and I, or getting together with our totally awesome cousins, "Dan" and "Nancy" (yes, there is the need to hide their identities, because of their occupations, just like Dr. J and I have to stay semi-anonymous to protect our public identities, too)?!

This will probably be more tame than some of our previous togethers for the simple reason that we are now all parents who, no matter blitzed or blasted we get, no matter how wild the night . . . we are STILL gonna have to be up bright and early the following day with our respective little girls. Sure, both of us couples' could easily get a set of grandparents to take our Little Princesses for the night - but I don't think either couple is yet ready for that (even if our daughters are).

Dr. J and I truly need some grown-up time, away from the bitching and moaning about shit having to do with the house & bills & the other awful responsibilities that come with being an adult. And we both are guaranteed some good laughs and family gossip via Dan, with Nancy there to validate and keep all of us hooligans in check.

Thinking back over the pre-parenthood days with Dan and Nancy inspired me to pull-up and re-post my favorite photo of Dan (which I took, after Dr. J and I duct-taped the dumb ass to his floor when he got smashed at his little sister's wedding reception). I am such a smart ass that the following year I actually framed this photo and made it a Bingo prize at our annual Thankgiving gathering (we play Bingo). How can you not look forward to seeing someone who provides you with this opportunity?! And for the record, Nancy was right there when we duct-taped her husband, shaking her head and saying "it's his own fault for getting this drunk."

Fittingly, we are going to the drive in to see the new movie, "Hangover." LMAO!!!!!!!!!

Back to Political Blogging . . .

It is complete bullshit that O.bama is allowed to get away with this. The double standard, the press corps hypocrisy . . . mind-boggling! Having worked for a quasi-gov't agency that was told by the Governor to use the phucked-up equation of "for every $88,000 in grant money, we count it as one white-collar job, and for every $44,ooo as one blue-collar job," and yet there were no REAL metrics demonstrating this, well, I understand all too well that the spew coming out of the Ob.ama Administration is utter, magical, bullshit.

Cue the unicorns and rainbows!

The Media Fall for Phony 'Jobs' Claims

Surburbia Sunday

My gawd, my husband expanded his yardwork repetoire. Call the media! Hey, I give him loads of credit . . . I was explicit when we bought this house, "I do not do yardwork nor home improvement." And I have stuck to it. Dr. J loathes the yardwork too, having been dispatched to do some of these chores for his mother as a youth (bad memories).

So, I hafta admit, the fact that he DOES do some of these things, well, I find it hot! Sure, I am gonna mock him without mercy, and treat him like the hired help (ooh lah lah), but it is sexy when a man does stuff around the house, especially when it's something outside of their comfort zone.


While Dr. J did the manual labor, I played lifeguard to our Lil Pumpkin, who played in her wading pool on our front lawn. (When she needed additional water added to it, I called for "the poolboy" to come fill it up, hee hee). It was a very white-trash/low-rent moment, as I was laying on our front lawn, sipping Chilean wine from a plastic cup (because I didn't want to risk breaking one of my beautiful Spiegelau bordeaux goblets), wearing my two-piece bathing suit, while monitoring our gorgeous Chinese ball of frenetic energy splash and jump around.

Dr. J managed to capture a relaxed, mellowed smile on my face, while I stiffled a laugh since our Lil Pumpkin had her sunglasses on upside down!

When I reviewed the photos he had taken, I figured out why "the poolboy/landscaper" had been so eager to photograph the Lady of The House . . .

Down boy, down! (But thanks for the flattering photography, nonetheless!)

Frank Discussions Among Family

My first cousin and I are very close, having been raised much like sisters. She has been an amazing source of strength to me, as well as a terrific example as a mother. And that's probably why years ago (15 years?), I took her recommendation when it came to selecting a dentist. Hullo Dr. Hot Brothers!!! One is beefcake hot, the other more preppy hot. When I was younger I was into Dr. Preppy Dentist (Dr. Jay), and she preferred Dr. Beefcake (Dr. Bryan). Now that we are older, we like both equally. Okay, more like COVET both equally.

So I just HAD to torture my cousin with the knowledge that I would see Dr. Beefcake today for a dental appointment.

The texting literally went like this ('cause I saved 'em on my phone):

• Ms. J: " I will have a hot man in my mouth later today - Dr. Bryan!"
• Cousin: "Enjoy sloppy seconds. I had him on Saturday morning for an appointment."
• Ms. J: "You are just a fluffer for him. He will be ready for the real thing at 5 pm today."

Ya gotta love family!!!!!!!!!!

By the way . . . I think I primped more in the bathroom just prior to being seen by him that I do before important business meetings, LOL!

And another by the way (since my beloved cousin reads this occasionally) . . . my mouth is ACHY tonight! Oh, Dr. Bryan worked me over good! (Um, that's because I forgot to go last year and he did lots of magic today with his special TOOL, hee hee). That means there was lots of scraping, people!

I could seriously go for ice cream right now (haven't I earned it?!) I would actively whine to my husband, who would dutifully go buy some for me . . . but he is upstairs painting our bedroom, and I don't wanna take him off task (and yeah, I know it's just a clever excuse to watch the game without me bitching about how the hockey season is too phucking long!!!!!!!!!!)

Two Outta Three Ain't Bad

As we drove to the local car dealerships for our Day of Hell, I told Dr. J I had three goals:

1. Drive home a new vehicle at the conclusion
2. Not feel like I had been ass-phucked at the end of the experience
3. Still be speaking to Dr. J afterwards

Two outta of the three goals were achieved. Wanna guess which was not???????

The first one . . . was not. BUT we made progress. And we even have a new dark horse in the mix, thanks to a chance meeting with the sales manager at the Toyo.ta dealership, who recognized us from church. Yippee!!! He gave us an additional option that we had not previously considered, and is on the lookout for end of the month rebates, financing options, and specials since we can wait a couple of weeks (but barely . . . seriously, the sounds being emitted by our shit-mobile on the way to pick up Lil Pumpkin were frightening).

By the way . . . two funny moments happened during the day. The first at the H.onda dealer, who was giving me a hard time bout the numbers n' all that. He asked Dr. J what he did for a living, and he replied "massage therapist" (we knew if he learned what Dr. J did, any leverage Ms. J had gained up to this point would evaporate - I am sure he googl.ed his name the moment we were out the door, though). Second funny moment . . . at the Toy.ota dealer when the sales manager recognized us from church and introduced himself, Dr. J quipped, "hey, does this mean we get the Christian discount?!"

Honey, I love when you are NOT trying to be funny . . . nobody makes me laugh like you do ;o)

P.S. I love you for agreeing to drive the color of that Hon.da F.it we test drove, those I still have doubts about your ability to not get your ass kicked over the color! But it sure was purrrrty!

Just So You Know I am Not a Total Bitch . . .

. . . I just emailed Dr. J (in response to something he sent me), that if he promises that the hockey season is over TONIGHT, I will happily buy Chinese food from our favorite place, sans bitching.

Hee hee. I just loathe the length of the hockey season. It's ridiculous.

Scared But Plugging/Perspective

Two new "hits" (as I call 'em) have once again knocked me back on my ass. One is a change in health insurance at my normally wonderful, big girl job - which could essentially cost me $1,250-$2,500 a year. The other is an out of nowhere (and undeserved) doubling of interest rate on my sole credit card (and I am a good customer, carrying a balance but not too big of one).

I had just started to feel like maybe, just maybe, things were settling down. Like we just might finally treading be adequately treading water. But I don't handle surprises well (okay, I handle them like a trauma victim who has been scared shitless, and I freak out and hyperventilate), and I literally have been on the verge of panic attacks all week. I actually had two in a row yesterday, and the lump that formed in my throat felt like I was being swiftly strangled to death.

Nothing, NOTHING, is more sacred to me than financial stability. Alright, first it's my kid's health and safety (but geez, that's the same for everybody). THEN, it's financial stability. Notice I didn't say financial "security," I have switched to "stability" as my emotional survival plan. I keep thinking I should be comforted by the fact that lots of people are having even harder times right now . . . but gawd, I don't give a shit. I care about MY shit, not their shit!!!

I am tired of the up and down feelings . . . one minute I am minute hopeful, one minute sad. One minute delighted, one minute exasperated. One minute re-charged, one minute rundown. One minute invigorated, one minute resigned. One minute treading, one minute slipping. LOL, if going back on anxiety meds would eliminate the trick I'd do it - but then I'd be bitching about the co-pay and the weight gain (which would in turn cause me to need to buy bigger clothes, and once again I'd have even NEWER shit to be upset about, yippee!!!)

I am trying (trying) to locate my lost balance, and put it back together. I see bits and pieces of it from time to time . . . Lil Pumpkin getting more independent, she is back to her regular self after some regressive weeks post-surgery, and she is much more comfortable with transitions. I am finding that I am doing a better job at working more efficiently within the hours I do have, and even managing (some days) to haul ass outta bed wee early and plunk onto the treadmill. It ain't perfect, but it's better. Dr. J is doing a much better job at keeping up on things around the house, and even semi-power cooking more than half of the time. We are close to resolving 1/2 of our car woes (please, Jesus!), and maybe, just maybe, our meeting with the bank manager will result in some restructuring that will result in: (A) me breathing, (B) Dr. J feeling empowered, and (C) less tension between us. I won't even hope for (D) some excess money to go out to (gasp) dinner on occasion, but if it happens, mazel tov!

The mantra that Deanna (who brought home 11 month old twin girls from China) gave me helps when it comes to Lil Pumpkin -- "think back not to yesterday, but a month ago, and see how things have gotten better, gotten easier, gotten more manageable. "

Now I just need a mantra to help me deal with my financial anxiety. Right now the best I can come up with is "Everybody else feels phucked, too. Please refill my wine glass!"

Speaking of which, we need to restock.

Apparently The Thief Didn't See the Value

I got a phone call from my boss on Mother's Day . . . over the weekend our offices were broken into, and whoever did it kicked open every office door (our individual offices have doors on them), and riffled through stuff, but they didn't take any higher value items (like computers or digital/camera/etc equipment), nor did they steal any credit card receipts/checks. Some loose change on people's desks and in drawers were taken, though.

My boss said he wanted to prepare me because I might have to take some time on Monday to clean up items that were overturned, tossed, messed up, etc. Okay, I am IN my office and, uh, yeah, I can hardly tell a difference. Probably because it was such a mess to begin with, LOL!

There were a few file drawers opened, but I am too cheap to leave loose change laying around that I am sure I disappointed the thief(s). The one thing that has me sorta cracking up (but sorta sad) is what is still in my desk drawer that has been there for, oh, well over a year now and I have never remembered to throw out (or donate to another woman) . . . a set of digital OV kits. LMAO!!!!!!!! I had to keep 'em at work once upon a time cause of the time of day I was testing. I actually remember the day the last time I used them, and had gotten that "Smiley Face" on it, and how that sometime within the next 24 hours we conceived our lost angel, Gabrielle. It has always felt a little wrong to throw out that kit (yes the pee strip was pitched, LOL), since it was something that connected me to "that time, that place."

Let me be clear . . . I never, NEVER, never want to go through that again. I never want to try again. What I have NOW, is sooooo much better than any child I could ever imagine. And infinitely more beautiful.

Mother's Day was yesterday, and it's the first time ever I was able to be a Mummy to what those in my world call a RLB (real live baby). And it was wonderful. SHE is wonderful. Right down to the part in church yesterday when the priest started to go a bit long on his homily and she stood up, spread her arms wide, and exclaimed "ALL DONE", making several rows of parishoners laugh.

Work Woes

I am now firm in my conclusion . . . I could spend the next couple weeks (months?) doing nothing but filing and re-organizing my 3 gazillion friggin' work emails and STILL not be done with it. I hate having to save every gawddamn email I get - but in the era of C.Y.A., and especially when you (1) work for an organization with several dozen folks on the Board of Directors; (2) oversee multiple committees; and (3) don't trust [and with good reason] backstabbing so-called "colleagues" at partner organizations, well, hence the email inbox that rivals the complaint line for the DMV.

In other news, anybody else taken part in a Webi.nar? The one I was on today was a bit unique in that we used our computers to pick up the live-video feed of the presenters, and listened to the audio through our phones. At my office I have audio on the computer, so I couldn't figure out why we needed to call in via a phone to get the audio separately?! Oh well. I assumed that, therefore, it was like other large calls in that you were only listening in, and it wasn't a two-way audio thing. Which is why when the presenter praised the name of a person I can't stand [see #3 in prior parapgraph] I said under my breath, "Oh phuck her!" Then about 15 minutes later I heard questions being asked of the presenter, and that was my first inkling that um, no, this wasn't a one-way audio feed. 5 minutes after that, my cell phone started ringing (with a music ringtone, a generic one though that comes with the phone), and people on the call giggled. OH PHUCK!!!!!!!!!

Luckily (gulp, I hope), nobody on the call knew it was my voice, and I will maintain complete deniability if ever asked about it. My reaction will be "What? No, I didn't hear that during the call! Who do you think said it?! Wow, maybe somebody was talking in the background in their office and had the phone on speaker?! WOW!"

It's been nearly two hours since this happened, and I haven't heard anything. In fact, I exchanged emails with one of the presenters, so I am thinking (praying) I am safe.

Changing ALL ringtones on phones, though, just to be safe.

Wha.t Not to Wea.r

Is it possible to watch this show (esp. several episodes in a row) and not feel like your own wardrobe SUCKS?!

Listen, I do NOT have excess money to spend on updating my wardrobe right now. I try my best to have a couple of work suits that flatter my body and look professional, a couple of flirty but professional dresses that can be worn for (work-related) cocktail parties as well as an evening out (LMAO) with my husband and/or friends. And a couple of tops that I can wear when running weekend errands with Lil Pumpkin that I am not too embarrassed to be seen in if (gawd forbid) I run into a high school ex-boyfriend or nemesis.

But watch this show and DAMN, I feel like fashion caca. I think I need to take $100 from our tax return and get thee ass to H&M and pick up a couple of mod tops to put under my work suits to jazz 'em up a bit, and a few blingy necklaces and earrings (now, GASP, if I could only remember to wear the blingy pieces when I fly out of the house to the office?!) I also am in DESPERATE need of a new pair of navy mules for my navy suit.

I think I need to just pick a date, tell Dr. J he is on Daddy Duty that afternoon, and drag either Lori or my own Mummy with me to force me to spend money on ME. Sigh.

I so depserately am trying to avoid that "Mommy Look" that happens to women. I want to be/stay a "Yummy Mummy." SIGH!