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)

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?)

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."

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?!)

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!!!!!!!!!!)

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!

Hospital Scatter Thoughts

I can't believe it's been this long since I blogged HER. Guess I have been too busy with the other blog?! Oh, I have been just a teency-weency busy with other shit, LOL.


Okay, since we spent 2 days at the hospital with Lil Pumpkin, a series of observations I have made, recorded here:

• Thank God for kick-ass cardiac ICU nurses, who stand up to 4th year residents and advocate (demand?!) that your toddler be given more pain medicine, rather than "wait 30 minutes and see how she is doing."
• Um, WHEN did the nurses get so YOUNG?! Dr. J noted that as Lil Pumpkin was sleeping, her saw her nighttime cardiac ICU nurse (hot Jackie) updating her facebook page, LMAO!
• Why is the word "twitter" so sexually charged?!
• After weeks/months of doing everything possible to make sure Lil Pumpkin didn't contract a surgery-delaying cold/virus prior to her scheduled surgery . . . my famed germ/ick/dirt-OCD sorta melted away in the hospital! I guess I just "let go and let God". Maybe. Probably more like I figured it was out of my hands at this point.
• Speaking of hands, GAWD, the constant hand-scrubbing and hand-santizing measures in place while our daughter was in hospital turned my hands RAW!!!!!!!!! How nurses keep their hands from chapping to the point of being bloody, I have NO friggin' idea!
• It's still VERY humbling to be at a Children's Hospital, and know that 95% of the other parents you see would WISH for your child's health problem . . . sure, it was major surgery, but it was "fixable," with her surgical outcome being that of normal life expectancy, no long-term restrictions on activities or diets, and no longterm medications. Amazing.
• I was so glad my Dr. Father-In-Law was there for LP's surgery - his watchful eye and reassurance kept all of us (including my own parents) more calm and in control.
• And finally . . . I think it's only fair that if your toddler pukes M&.M's on you, M.&M's that her father gave her less than 36 hours after having open heart surgery . . . well, I think it's only fair that MUMMY get to sleep in the reclining sleeper chair in her hospital room all night, while Daddy is forced to sleep in the upright chair. Cheers!

Tiny. Smug. Mine.

Dr. J and I had out first EVENING date sans-baby since becoming parents on July 28th of last year. REALLY. We (or is it me) had some separation anxiety since Lil Pumpkin has not ever had a bedtime without Mummy or Daddy (and 95% of time it's both of us) since we became her Forever Family. But she was with her Nan and her beloved Pap ("Paaaaaap!") and all went smoothly. It's usually a slam dunk when your kid falls asleep in the Dor.a ball pit at her grandparents house, hee hee.

It felt really good to be able to go out, all gussied up, for an evening with my husband. To make smart ass remarks about everything going on around us, and in that blessed "spousal shorthand" that nobody else gets or understands. To like the same things that others would scoff at (hullo, "crumbles"!), and be able to say to Dr. J the phrase "I can't be in that parking lot and you know why" and for him to immediately understand WHY, and not want to be there too. That's something we have learned over the past month -- that the serious grief we have endured has also binded/bonded us, albeit in a very odd way. The shared grief that tears us apart also makes us (still) reach out for the only other person who could possibly understand.

We remembered what it was like pre-baby, but agreed that the mundane chores of life are now the best things in the world, like going to Sam's with Lil Pumpkin . . . suddenly it's an event! And it's as much fun as a night out on the town, but with deeper smiles and far better giggles (though they belong to her).

So what was my favorite moment on Saturday Night? Probably when the hostess (great gal, BTW!) offered me a piece of chocolate cake and I politely declined. I did this because I don't really like chocolate cake, being a vanilla/yellow kind of girl. She assumed otherwise, and said "You are already so tiny anyways!" TINY?! Me?! Oh girl, I am SO lovin' you now for calling me tiny!!! And loving An.n Tayl.or Loft for the dress I purchased there that very afternoon. And even my inlaws for the gift card that allowed me to purchase said dress. And my husband for chasing after The Chinese Ball of Frenetic Energy on the indoor mall playground while Mummy shopped for said dress that made her look (and feel) tiny.

Best part of Sunday? All around another terrific day spent with Lil Pumpkin. But favorite moment came when my 22-month old CONNED me into allowing her a second lollipop while we waited in a long line at the deli counter. I finally gave in because she was being adorably persistent (normally she is stricyly limited to ONE mini-dumdum per day), and the SMUG little look she gave me when I gave in was priceless. Oh, she is SO gonna set the world on fire, no matter what she does in life!

Oh, and it was yet another weekend in which Dr. J and surveyed the other children we saw, and continually whispered to one another "gawd, why are everybody else's kids so UGLY?! Damn, OUR kid is gorgeous!!!"

And smart. And brilliant. And persistent. And funny. And stubborn. And dramatic.

And . . . MINE.

Jesse-time!

I haven't posted a Jesse-story in a while. Today's "Topic du Jour" among us (Dr. J and I) and the CA Crew (Adrian, Noah, Kirsten, Jesse) was bizarre work stories. As always, Jesse wins. So I am honoring by posting his story . . . .

***************************************

I have an employer story too. Not as good as Kirsten's naked-key story...

This was not my lawyer job. I was in Vegas with three guys we worked for the same company at a seminar/trade show type deal.

The boss, (my friend-"Joe") and a crew head "John" were in one room at the tropicana. I basically did sales and paperwork, had a room with another crew chief.

Joe, John, and I played blackjack all night across the street at New York, New York. Joe was talking to one nice girl at the table. We left Joe there with girl late..like 3 am before our 8 am seminar as scheduled. Next morning early (7:30 am) crew chief John calls me. says meet me in lobby...now..

I meet him, he says stay close. I say wtf? Did Joe score last night? He says yes he did. I said at your guys room? He says "Yes". I say with that girl from the blackjack table? He says "no":.

.."With two black hookers and a pile of coke...and now one of them is pissed he didn't pay wwhat he was supposed to pay or whatever and they both blew him and I am fukcin married and I do not need this shite and you are goin in there to help his ass out..."

Fukc

So we go in. Joe is in there unconscious. there are rolled up dollar bills and condoms allover the bed and table... we wake joe. Joe calls his sister (for whatever reason not his girlfriend) in Califonia to get her ass to the supermarket and wire him TWELVE HUNDRED BUCKS I find out there is no Wetern union at our hotel (how dumb for a casino) so we have to walk to NY NY to get it. Joes sister wants to talk to me. Fcuk.

She says what happened? I say we got out of line at a Blackjack table and they put Joe in jail. She goes to wire the money. Me and John and two ghetto ass black hookers walk in scalding heat across a bridge to NY NY . On the walk, the one better looking one is selling still to us "I don't just do this I like to fukc" you guys like to fukc?

i am the only single one and I am not touching it but they kept trying..gott give it to them for persistence...

20 minutes of garbage talk later, the money came. We paid them (too much I'm sure) and we skipped the rest of the seminar and drank.

What happens in Vegas...bullshite..

****************************************

Gawd, I love Jesse. I am gonna have to nag him for my scamming-on-unsuspecting-young-chicks stories. I especially miss the segments on Young Darcy ;o)

Bar Babe

So we don't get out much anymore (okay, we didn't get out all that much before, either, or at least since we moved back from Kal-ee-forn-yah). Thus, it's quite possible that I have forgotten a lot of things about going out in general.

Add Lil Pumpkin into the mix and I guess I have forgotten A LOT of my pre-baby life.

Case in point . . . a few days ago Dr. J mentions that a patient of his has invited us to a party she is having for her boyfriend on an upcoming Saturday night. I immediately grill him for details, yadda yadda. We agree to go. Have never been to this place before, which kinda stresses me out (I like the familiar, what can I say), but okay, we will go.

A few days later, I am organizing the clothes in Lil Pumpkin's closet as Dr. J is getting our frenetic ball of Chinese energy ready for her evening bath. I pull two dresses out of her closest and the conversation goes something like this . . .

• MS. J: "Which one do you think I should put on her for that party?"
• DR. J: "What party?"
• MS. J: (rolling my eyes), "Hullo?! The party your patient is having for her boyfriend on the 28th?!"
• DR. J: "Um, I didn't think we would be taking the baby with us."
• MS. J: "Why wouldn't we? We are not ready to leave her with anyone other than my Mom yet during evening hours, and I think my Mom does enough childcare already, she doesn't need her on a Saturday night on top of it! So why not take the baby with us?!?!?!"
• DR. J: "Uh, because the party is at a BAR?!"
• MS. J: "Oh. [long pause]. Kee-rist, I guess I missed that fact. Damn, I need to get out more. I was going to take the baby to a bar with us!!! WHAT is wrong with me?!?!?! LOL!"

I got kinda panicky at thought of leaving Lil Pumpkin on a Saturday evening when it's so close to her bedtime . . . but taking a leap and going to try and go out at night, with husband, sans baby.

Inhale. Exhale.

ThreePeat and F'in Frosting

For three blissful nights in a row . . . I have been able to squeeze in working out on the treadmill while Dr. J gave Lil Pumpkin her bath. It has been heavenly. I am so amazingly thrilled that he assembled the treadmill I agonized over whether to buy . . . and not only does it work perfectly, it suits my needs to a "T".

I never suspected that working out from the privacy of my basement could be so satisfying! But there I was, 3 nights in a row, sweating my ass off in my grubbiest t-shirts that I should have stopped pitched in the trash about 30 pounds ago (heavier), but still keep around cause they are so big and roomy and perfect for sleeping in (and they hold lots of memories). On my new treadmill I am singing while I work out, gesturing wildly, and bopping around like only a white girl can (that means I look like a freak who should be institutionalized -- think Elaine from "Se.infeld" doing her patented dance move, LOL). But I am SO LOVING IT!!! (Thank you, Cookie, for building it!!!)

Which brings me to frosting . . . because we have leftover frosting from V-Day baking, the past three nights prior to bed I have taken to secretly swiping a spoonful and greedily licking it off. And for three nights now, I have had completely phucked up dreams, ranging from the enlightened . . . I selected my seat in church via the intenret much like you pre-select your plane seat . . . to the twisted . . . I am wearing a bikini top in which the bra cups are made out of the toy cymbals from my daughter's "band in a box." I am blaming ALL of this on THE VANILLA FROSTING! [Surely it has nothing to do with my own inner-weirdness, eh?!]

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?!

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.

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.

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 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

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.

My Friends Are Insane

How do I even explain THIS?! Okay, here goes . . .

The aforementioned "Man Hands" (Adrian from CA) has two hobbies which I consider bizarre. One is bird-watching, the other is collecting the state quarters the U.S. Mint has put out over the past few years.

Well, last year about this time I joked something like "hey, I have the new Montana one!" and ManHands immediately replied that she did NOT have it, wanted it, and if I sent it to her in CA she would give me a dollar in return. I did send it, and really didn't expect anything in return. After all, this woman has let us camp out at her lovely beachfront home for free TWICE.

Fast forward to Monday of this week, when instigator "2.0" pipes up with an inquiry as to whether ManHands ever sent me that dollar for the quarter? I say no, 2.0 chides her for not mailing it since I am "with child" and thus need money. I then teased ManHands that she should send it via F.edEx since I was flying away to China this Friday.

I guess ManHans decided to be a smart ass (gawd, I love smart asses!), 'cause look at what I received at work this morning . . .



A freakin' $1.oo bill, and one individually-wrapped Twi.zzler, courtesy of ManHands and her company's Fe.dEx account (gotta love those internet companies that don't watch their bottom line that carefully, LMAO!)

I am so anxious right now, that this insane delivery made me whoop it up pretty damn loud! I think I frightened my company's receptionist, hee hee.

It's the little things that put a smile on my face, and this most certainly did.

I wuv you ManHands!!!! (Can we all now change into our jammies, braid each others hair, and bake brownies?!)

Is That a Can of Pringles or are You Just Happy to See Me?

This morning I woke up from a dead state of sleep just shy of 5 a.m. The reason? I had a bad dream in which I had been arrested. For shoplifting a can of Prin.gles. Yes, a can of Pri.ngles.

WTF is wrong with me?! (I know, do I want that list alphabetically?!)

In the dream I manage to get out of what had to be the dirtiest grocery store I have seen in a long time, am 3/4's of the way to my car, when security steers me back to the store. I hadn't much concealed the can -- it was kind of in the crook of my arm, along with my purse.

Now WHAT is this all about?! Much as I love the salty, crisp yumminess that are Pr.ingles, I am thinking it that this bizarre scenario has something to do with denying myself something I want or desire. (I do love chips, gawd do I ever, but rarely buy them, since I am determined to keep my weight under control and I know that letting chippies into my home are like a "gateway drug" that could spiral into me falling of the wagon).

Nah, dreams are rarely literal like that. Objects and people always represent something or someone else. What am I denying? What am I wanting? What am I reaching for? Is it as yummy as a can of P.ringles?!?!?!