Wednesday, December 31, 2008
2008 was a pretty dang awesome year for us. Captain Carl and I both had jobs for the whole year....first time in 3 years that has happened. I started my dream career on the side too, and I'm now a professional photographer. Hopefully within a year or two I'll be able to do that full-time. But until then, I feel very blessed to have succeeded doing it part-time. My photography income paid for Christmas this year, and then some. Not bad.
We watched the Kiddo inch ever closer to manhood in 2008. Every day he gets further away from being a little boy. He has hairy legs, he shaves, he's taller than both of us and he's beginning to think about which college he wants to attend.
We are truly blessed. I know I complain a lot here, that's just my nature. I tend to dwell on the negatives. But when I stop and think about our little life here in Texas, I am astounded how lucky we are.
My resolution for 2009 is to keep things in perspective and be thankful for all the wonderful blessings in my life.
My parents are here this week staying with us. Tonight we'll sing karaoke and eat crab dip and fight over card games. And I will be so very very happy.
Happy New Year to all my bloggy land friends!
Monday, December 29, 2008
This is really good news for both of us. We've been too fat for about 2 years...long past "plump" and "hefty". We are obese, plain and simple. What can I say? We love our hamburgers and ranch dressing. We also love to not exercise. Bad combination.
I'm really proud of Captain Carl for doing this. I'm hoping his motivation will rub off on me. I'm hoping I'll be a raging bitch for about 6 weeks while I get used to my awesome new lifestyle.
His first session with his personal trainer (holy shit, a personal trainer even!) is on Monday. I will be on my treadmill the same day. Tonight we are having french fries with our dinner. Baby steps, people.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Would a gay man let his wife dress like this? I don't think so.
Well hello, Mr. Darcy.
I bet he totally grew that beard in one day. Dude standing behind him is totally jealous.
P.S. My parents and sister just flew in for Christmas last night...sooooo happy!!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Captain Carl's brother, Mailman Mike, also came over with his girlfriend so they could see Aunt S. and get in on her Christmas present. So we all drive to the restaurant, but we had to take two separate cars because there were so many of us. We chose a little Mexican food place, which was okay...nothing spectacular, except that The Kiddo and I loved the salsa so much we wanted to drink it. No one else liked it as much as we did, so clearly they are dumb and have no taste.
A good time was had by all, we leave and I'm riding home in Aunt S.'s car with The Kiddo and Captain Carl. Mailman Mike and Girlfriend J are in the other. Unfortunately, Aunt S.'s car chose that moment to get a flat tire. But fortunately, we had another car and we were only about 3 miles from our house.
Captain Carl takes everyone home with him except Mailman Mike and myself. We volunteered to stay behind with the car and wait until Captain Carl came back with a flashlight and tools. Plus, I saw a cat across the street and I wanted to catch him and take him home, thus completing my trio of cats and hereby becoming a true Crazy Cat Lady.
So first I try sneaking up on the cat. Which is like trying to sneak up on Chuck Norris. Impossible. Then I give up because Mailman Mike notices that there is a guy watching me from his front window as I duck walk across his lawn in the dark. So I stand up and skip back to the car...because I figure if he sees me skipping he knows I'm not a burglar, just a mental patient.
When I get back to the car, I realize that about 20 people have driven by us and only one stopped to ask if we were alright. A few slowed down to stare, but most just kept on driving. We were in a residential neighborhood where the speed limit was 20...it's not like these people were going 60 and didn't have time to register that we needed help. So I got a little pissed off at the state of humanity in our country today. Then I got a good idea and quickly forgot about that.
I asked Mailman Mike if he thought someone would stop if I were alone and hurt on the side of the road. He gave a nervous half-laugh...cause he knows me and probably knew this wasn't going anywhere good.
Then I told him my awesome idea.
Me: Hey Mike, how about I lie down on the road next to the car, and when the next person turns onto the street, you stand over me with the tire iron and then when the headlights hit us, you turn and run in the other direction.
Mailman Mike: Uh, that probably wouldn't be a good idea.
Me: No it wouldn't be a good idea. It would be an AWESOME idea.
Mailman Mike: *blink*
Me: Do you think anyone would stop then?
Mailman Mike: Actually, they would probably follow me and ask if I needed help.
Me: Or! They would follow you and then shoot you. We are in Texas, after all.
Mailman Mike: True. I don't think this game would end well for me in either scenerio.
Me: Oh come on! I'll even twitch and drool to make it look authentic!
So we didn't do it, even though I know Mike would have totally been up for it if he'd had about 5 more margaritas. That's the difference between me and Mike. I will do the crazy shit when I'm totally drunk AND when I'm totally sober.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
To guard the cups.
So the Cup Nazi comes to the break room every morning and puts out our allotted number of cups for the day. She also makes two pots of coffee of the flavors she has deemed "Coffees of the Month". She even bought a dry-erase board that she mounted to the cabinet and writes on it every day "Coffee made fresh at 7:35am". Then she went out and bought all these fancy glass jars to put the sweet'n'low, sugar, creamers, etc. in. And she now has a little rolling cart she uses to bring all the super important coffee supplies to the break room in. So I guess what she is saving the company in cups, she is spending on that crap. Makes sense to me.
That is the actual cabinet...I'm not even kidding.
Oh, and she changed the brand of hot chocolate we have too. And the new brand sucks monkey balls. And one day there wasn't any at all. So because I am a passive aggressive smart ass, I wrote a little note on her stupid dry-erase board that said "Hey we need more hot chocolate!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!". I swear I used that many exclamation points. And then I skipped back to my cubicle to wait. Low and behold, the next morning there were 5 (Five!) hot chocolate packets and my note had been scrubbed from the board. So I went ahead and wrote another note that said "I'm sorry your job sucks so hard that you have resorted to ruling over the break room with an iron fist, but please change the brand of hot chocolate back to Nestle' as this brand is awful and also I like products that end with an e'....." Strangely enough, that note also got scrubbed from the board, but still no Nestle'.
Monday, December 15, 2008
What? Oh come on, he's the son of God.....He parted the sea, people. He turned water into wine. He turned a staff into a serpent. Moving Christmas day back a little is no big whoop.
This just in...I'm totally going to hell. Thank goodness my Mom doesn't read this. But maybe I should tell her to, so she can pray for my soul. But then she'd also be reading all the awkward sex and swearing things here....so yeah, I think I'd rather risk my soul than get a lecture from my Mommy about potty mouths and bad thoughts.
Yo dudes, Captain Carl and I had a fantastic Christmas party last Saturday night. I spent two weeks getting ready for it....cleaning, looking at recipes, generally freaking out, etc. 23 people showed up, which was good for us. They showed up, drank a shit load of liquor and then everyone was gone by 10:30pm. WTF????? That's just when parties start to get good! So we are officially lame and old now.
Here's the cake I made for the party....it's chocolate peppermint and is pretty much delicious and I might share the recipe with you if you ask nicely and tell me a joke. Preferably a dirty one.
2) Multiply by 3 then
3) Add 3, then again Multiply by 3
4) Add the digits together
Now with that number see who your ROLE MODEL is from the list below :
1. Hillary Clinton
2. Nelson Mandela
5. Bill Gates
7. Brad Pitt
9. Miss Yvonne
10. Barack Obama
I bet you are really glad your role model is me instead of Hitler, right??
Also, I'm super honored that you chose me over Jesus. I mean, wow.... Sure I make a killer grilled cheese and most of the time I'll motion you to go first when we're at a 4-way stop sign (unless I've got the menstrual cramps...in that case, screw you buddy). But whoa, I'm up against the Big J and I'm the role model. Crizazy.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
All right stop.
Collaborate and listen
Miss Yvonne's back with a brand new edition.
Something's grabbed a hold of me tightly
Stressing me out both daily and nightly.
Will it ever stop?
Yo, I don't know.
Turn off the lights and I'll blow (that's what she said.)
To the extreme I rock the holidays like a vandal
Light up the tree and watch me jump off the handle.
Dance, Captain Carl's Santa costume
It's killing my brain like a poisonous mushroom.
Deadly, when I wrap a dope present for Melanie*
Anything less than the best is a felony.
Love it or leave it, you better not say
You better be thankful, cause Miss Yvonne don't play.
If there's a Christmas problem, yo I'll solve it.
Check out my stress acne, while I put zit cream on it.
Stress stress baby. dundundundun du dundun
Stress stress baby. dundundundun du dundun
Yo Rudolf..let's get outta here.
Word to your mutha.
*I don't know anyone named Melanie....I was having a hard time rhyming with felony, okay??
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Apparently her boyfriend is some totally humorless schmo who doesn't get it when I send him a picture of me dressed as a Crazy Cat Lady and tell him that if he steals my sister's pumpkin pie recipe and pass it off as his own again, I will send said Crazy Cat Lady to his house to leave a trail of litter and urine stink. And also he apparently doesn't get it when I send him this picture and tell him that I think I saw him on Harry Hines Blvd last week and took a picture of him because I thought his sign was really creative.
Clearly that is hilarious. And not strange in any way.
Wow, I digress hardcore. So the kiddo is all nervous and bouncy last night. Captain Carl and I give him the standard "all you can do is your best and we will be proud of you no matter what" speech. Yeah, pretty much not buying it. So I'm trying to think of something that will help him relax and stop being so anal. That's what she said.
I've come up with the most awesomest plan ever. I'm going to get drunk tomorrow night while we put up the Christmas tree, and then I'm going to sing karaoke. Miss Yvonne's Drunk Karaoke night is super cool fun. Just ask my kiddo...he says he hates being in the house on drunk karaoke night, but I know he secretly loves it. Just like he secretly loves it when I pick him up after band practice wearing my pajamas and no bra.
Once drunk karaoke starts, the kiddo will totally forget about his upcoming performance. Yeah, I'm pretty much the most awesome stepmom ever. Either that, or I'm scarring him for life.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
So I've been sitting here and this little patch of sunlight is coming through the window and hitting the floor right by my feet. Anyone who has cats knows that there is some kind of law in cat world that wherever a sunbeam is located, a cat must lay in it. So Boo decided to mosy on over and join me in this particular sunbeam. Perfect opportunity for me to do some pet photography, right? How hard can it really be??
I present to you, A Lesson In Futility.
"Boo, come here big boy! Come here Boo Boo Kitty!"
"Hey Boo, look at mommy! Come here and look at mommy!"
"Boo, get your fat kitty ass over here and look at me. You want a treaty? I'll give you a treaty, just come look at mommy."
"Son of a bitch!!"
That took me 20 minutes. Damn, pet photography is hard!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
My poor body. Oh what abuse it has taken from me in the last 3 days. Someone, please! Tell me to put down the fork! Seriously, I need to stop celebrating holidays because apparently I lack the ability to cease eating while they are occurring. Hell yeah I want some pecan pie! I only ate, like 15 minutes ago, but whatever. Bring it!
My tummy is so pissed off at me right now.
I hope everyone out there in bloggy land had a nice Thanksgiving! I'll be back once I poop out all this holiday cheer.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
I mean come on...before Thanksgiving even? And way to totally outdo me with the giant blow-up snowglobe with the penguin that plays peekaboo from the inside. Like my two strings of flashing lights in the overgrown bushes/weeds in front of my house can compete with that shit.
Maybe I'll try to get in the holiday spirit here on the ole blog. Here's a pic to get you in the mood. This is me and my niece wearing jacked up cowgirl outfits in front of my in-laws house at Christmas in 2006. Notice the awesome Christmas decorations. We were leaving to go ghost hunting. Yep, you heard me.
Here's proof of the ghost hunting. We're standing in front of a crypt in the woods...for reals! It's scary as shit. That's Captain Carl on the far right. That's his "mocking my fear" face. He doesn't believe in ghosts, can you tell?
Hey guess what? I got a haircut today. In case you don't remember, read this post to see how my last one went. Yeah, it's really been that long since I cut my hair. I'm a beauty procrastinator. This time things went much better. Captain Carl said it's the best haircut I've ever had since he's known me. Of course, he didn't know me in high school when I had my kick ass spiral perm and mall bangs. I went with the stacked bob cut. Think Victoria Beckham, only fatter with a double chin.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Of course, the first thing he says to me is "Don't you dare blog about this."
I'm totally offended...as if I would blog about my husband's giant penis ripping apart his pants! How insulting and accurate.
Don't hate ladies....you know you're jealous.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
So here's my thing with tags...I enjoy doing them, but I usually break the rules and never tag more people. So Plo, please don't be disappointed in me...I promise I'll try to come back to this when I'm not cranky and tired and try to tag some peeps.
In the meantime, please to be enjoying my answers below. Feel free to comment at will...and if you want me to tag you, let me know and we can be tag buddies. hee hee...so dirty!
1. Link to the person or persons who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
5. Let each person know they've been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.
1. The phrase "Getting Tagged" makes me think of doggie-style sex. It's just the way my dirty mind works.
2. I'm from Minnesota and have a kick ass accent. I sound like I came straight out of the movie Fargo. Oh yah, you betcha!
3. One of my biggest fears is that someone will break into our house when we are gone, hide and then come out and kill us all while we sleep. It drives Captain Carl crazy. Every night I'm all "What the hell was that?" and he's all "What?" and I'm all "THAT! That noise!" and he's all "yawn" and I'm all "Go see what it is!" and he's all "The hell I will." and I'm all "What if it's a guy with an ax?" and he's all "Tell him to do me first and put me out of my misery" and I'm all "You're an asshole" and he's all "Can I be a sleeping asshole please?" I love that guy.
4. Do you know the way to San Jose? Laa laa la la laa laa la la!
5. I have a hump. For reals. Not like a Hunchback of Notre Dame hump or anything...it's barely noticeable. I have what my mom calls a Dowager's Hump. Ever heard of it? Me either. She probably made it up. I have 3 sisters and 2 of them, myself and my mom have this little curve at the top of our spines just below our necks. It's totally a cute, sexy hump. Ima get get get get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump.
6. My favorite songs of all time are My Sharona, You Dropped a Bomb on Me, and Word Up. You know, the classics.
Monday, November 17, 2008
But the last couple of days some strange website keeps popping up ahead of mine when I google myself. Every day there is another entry above mine, the fuckers. And I won't even visit the website to find out because they totally suck. Boo!
So since I know nothing about google analytics or blogging whatsits and all that jazz, I decided all by myself that the answer to getting shoved up to the top of google search again is to mention my blog name multiple times here.
So. Yo Mama. What? That's right, Yo Mama. I said Yo Mama's Blog. Blah blah blah yo-mama. Oooo snap, I totally snuck that last link to Guy Kawasaki in there. Jenny at The Bloggess would be so proud.
P.S. I totally forgot to blog about how my son had his girlfriend over last night and Captain Carl totally caught them making out. Hee hee!!! (Don't worry, it was just kissing. Anything else and little Miss Thing would have been on her way home pronto.) Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for the kiddo I was not there to see it. If I had, I would have snuck back and thrown a few condoms at their heads and then run away. And maybe I would have made fart noises while I did it. Cause I'm awesome.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
So we decided to see Quantum of Solace...it was pretty good. Lots of chasing and shooting and the hotness that is Daniel Craig or whatever his name is because I really don't care what his name is, he is lickable and that is all the matters.
And of course, because we are magnets for idiots, a couple sat down behind us with 3 children under the age 5. TO SEE A JAMES BOND MOVIE. Nice. Not at all inappropriate. Fucking dumbasses.
I know my last post was all about how cool and forward thinking our parenting style is...but come on dudes. Even I wouldn't take a 3 year old to a movie that is guaranteed to have people getting killed in just about every fashion imaginable and naked chicks. Side note...this James Bond edition was disappointingly short on naked chicks. Not even cold weather nipples poking through a shirt. I think maybe there was a side boob in silhouette in the opening credits, and those chicks aren't even real...they are cartoons. Sigh.
Anyway, I spent about 10 minutes fuming to Captain Carl in a stage-whisper about how irresponsible and stupid some people are. And we see this shit every time we go to the movies. Someone actually brought a baby to see Knocked Up. Yeah, it was too little to even be able to watch the movie, and yeah it is kind of funny ironic when you think about a baby in a theater watching a movie about having a baby...but still. Dumb.
Turns out those 3 kids were incredibly well-behaved through the whole two hours of Quantumness. So I couldn't decide if that was because their parents manage to discipline their children or if it was because the kids were silent because they were shoveling scary images into their brains in order to have some dandy nightmares later. Either way, I got to watch my movie in peace. Which is more than I can say for the time I had to take the kiddo on his first date to see "Balls of Fury" and sat amongst about 100 teenagers laughing at butt and sex jokes. Ahhh, good times.
But come on people! Get a babysitter or go see something age appropriate, for nut's sake!
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
So I was reading Happy Meals & Happy Hour today, and I left a comment on this post that got me to thinking...yeah, I know...scary.
I would consider my husband and myself fairly open-minded, forward thinking parents. We have rules for our 16 year old...rules he must always follow or he gets punished. We have a standard level his grades must be at all times, he has chores he must complete before any socializing can happen, etc. Pretty typical stuff, I would say.
But in a lot of ways I think we are different than some parents. What I mean is that we are always extremely open with him about life. We don't shelter him from reality, we try to make him aware of what is going on around him in our world. We tell him our honest opinion about things such as sex, birth control and religion. Hot topics for most parents are things we discuss without any qualms in our home. Our son knows his dad smoked weed sometimes when he was younger. Our son knows that we have become increasingly disillusioned with organized religion. Our son knows his parents have sex...often. Like rabbits. Really sexy rabbits. Ahem... the point is, we talk to our son about real shit.
Example: When the kiddo got his first girlfriend at 15, the Condom Fairy visited him pronto. For reals...the ACTUAL Condom Fairy (i.e. Captain Carl dressed in fairy wings and a blonde wig that I had from past Halloween costumes). CF and I snuck into the kiddo's room early one morning, and CF scattered condoms over his sleepy little head. Got it all on videotape too. We, of course, thought this was HIL-AR-I-OUS. The kiddo, not so much.
It was freaking genius and funny, but we did it because we are realists. By the time I was 15, I was doing the dirty in the backseat of my boyfriend's old Fury using the tried and true pull-out method of birth control. Captain Carl could probably have written a How-To-Score-With-Teenage-Sluts book by that age. Of course, we have preached abstinence and common sense to the kiddo from the moment I washed his first "alone-time towel" (parents of children under the age of 12...pay attention. No, your son will not suddenly develop a bladder infection that requires him to be in the bathroom 8 times a day. It's just puberty...roll with it.). But come on peeps, if you think your hormone-enraged teenager is going to actually listen to you then you, my friend, are delusional.
Yeah yeah yeah...I know there are some truly "good" kids out there. You might get one of those "good" kids, but let's do the math. Most of us were bad in at least one way...what are the odds your kid won't be? So we want him to be prepared in case he makes a decision we hope he doesn't make. Same thing goes with drugs, alcohol, driving drunk, getting married, douche-bag teachers, etc. The list goes on and on.
Anyhoo....most of the time I feel totally comfortable with our parenting style. It doesn't work for everyone...it probably will offend some people actually. But meh...whatever, our kid is awesome and he's going to be a fantastic grown-up someday, so I'm cool with that.
But there are some days when I wonder if we are just completely awful parents. Like the day I let the kiddo watch Team America when he was 12 years old because I had never seen it but knew it had puppets so how bad could it be? Yeah...ummmmmm, did you guys know there is a puppet sex scene in that movie??? Gah! Or the day just recently when I made these awesome cake balls for dessert and my son said, "I've got two balls" and Captain Carl responded with, "That's what she said" and then they laughed for about 5 minutes.
So yeah....leave me a comment and tell me what you think. Worst Parents in the World, or Wicked Awesome?
Thursday, November 6, 2008
So I thought I found some great pumps recently. Open toe, fabulous black and white check fabric, 2 inch heels. Yummy. And bonus, they are wide width! Awesome, my chubby little tootsie will look tasty and will feel comfy too!
Wrong. Two hours into my work day today and I had lost all feeling in my toes, which had squooshed together so hard that they were leaving impressions of themselves in each other. Four hours into my work day and my feet felt like giant sausages stuffed into lipstick tubes. Luckily, I keep a pair of emergency flip flops under my desk in case a situation such as this arises. Arose? Arises? Blech.
But because I'm a such an attention whore, I put those torture devices back on my swollen feet after lunch....all because one lady told me this morning she loved my shoes when I walked into the building.
And I could have worn my comfy flip flops out to my car at the end of the day, but I didn't. I wore those fucking nazi shoes all the way out to the parking garage and drove home wearing them. I'm a glutton for punishment.
Now I want to buy THESE. $50???? Seemed outrageous when I first saw them...but tonight I would pay triple that....my poor toes!
Monday, November 3, 2008
I can't do that to all of my many (4) readers!
So...here I am at my office Halloween party last Friday. I came as a Crazy Cat Lady.
I can't believe the first picture I post of myself is this one...complete with double chin and weird claw hand motion.
I totally won a prize for favorite costume. Yep, I'm awesome. And fat.... And crazy for posting this disgusting picture of myself. And clearly my left boob is bigger than my right...What?!! I wore an old bra that day...on purpose, because I was supposed to be CRAZY. Shut up, you don't know me!
Now I need to run off and get a nice picture taken of myself and photoshop out my waddle to make up for this nasty thing.
P.S. Read this one fast...it might disappear once I come to my senses and delete it.
How about we just mix-mash them all up together and create one super President & VP?
I voted...I was excited about my vote. Still am.
But can I just say??? So. Tired. Of. This. Bullshit.
Captain Carl's job is no bueno and we are both dangling oh so precariously close to unemployment...as so many others are right now. We've got a kid to get through college in less than two years. We've got a mortgage and car payments and stupid debts to pay. I just want to feel financially safe again...like we did 3 years ago, when we had plenty of savings and steady work. You know, before our own personal bomb hit and we were unemployed, burning through every penny of our savings and borrowing from my sister to pay the taxes. I'm sure it won't matter to us which candidate gets elected....at least in the short run. We'll still be scrambling to keep afloat for quite awhile. I don't really know who to blame for it....ourselves mainly. But lately I've really enjoyed pointing a finger at our country's leaders....the middle finger, mostly. No one is hiring right now...no one wants to spend any more money. So you lose a job because of downsizing, outsourcing or closing all together, and you have nowhere to go.
Captain Carl took me to lunch today. He confided in me about how worried he is about his job. He's looking for something else, and there just isn't anything out there. I see on his face how awful it is for him to be back where we were not too long ago...how it keeps him up at night, worrying about how to provide for his family if he is laid off.
All those what if's......I hate them.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
I saw two men doing weird things today.
1. I'm at the Wal-Mart on my lunch break, cause that's where I like to hang during my one free hour at work. I'm walking through the ladies intimates section, trying to locate the most awesome thing at the Wal-Mart....$1 packages of knee high pantyhose. 3 pair for $1!!! Captain Carl loves when I wear just my knee highs and granny panties around the bedroom. Awwwww yeahhh, kinda makes you want to break into a sexy Boys II Men song, doesn't it?
Anyhoo, so I'm cursing the idiots who organize this devil store (I hate the Wal-Mart and yet love it at the same time...I'm so complex) and trying to locate the knee highs when I turn the corner and see a dude. Standing in front of a row of bras. All by himself. And he is fondling one of them. For reals, yo!! He's got one of the smaller, padded ones between his thumb and index fingers and he's rubbing away. Oh yeah, he's also on the phone with someone. So do I turn and high tail it in the opposite direction from this weirdo? Are you CRAZY?? Hellll to the no! I mosy on up next to him and pretend I'm looking for a bra in my size. Which does not exist at the Wal-Mart, because I have a Ginormous bra size. I capitalized Ginormous because that IS the letter of my cup size. That's right gentlemen....I'm a G...and I ain't talkin' about no movie rating, m'kay?
So I eventually got bored because I couldn't hear what he was saying on the phone and really, how long can you watch a guy rub a bra in the Wal-Mart? Besides, he was probably just some poor whipped sap running an errand for his wife and was describing the bra to her so she could tell him no idiot don't buy that one, I don't wear a padded bra because I have huge tits. And he was probably all, yeah I know bitch quit reminding me about the two things that got me to marry you in the first place but have now betrayed me by slowly sinking towards your navel, a guy can fantasize about small padded breasts for a minute okay?!!! (Me and my G cups are a little sensitive about the subject of sagging boobs)
2. I'm driving home from work and there's this guy jogging on the sidewalk. He's pushing one of those double strollers that you put toddlers in and take them running with you so that you can teach them how great it is to be healthy and active and blah blah blah you people make me sick, what's wrong with watching tv and eating fried chicken once in a while? Shut up, you don't know me!
Ahem......so the guy's jogging and I'm shooting death rays at him and then I notice something really weird. There are no kids in the stroller. The dude's just pushing this empty stroller all by himself. WTF jogging dude? Did you start out with the kids, stop at the park and forget to put them back in the stroller before you took off on your run in your teeny tiny jogging shorts? What's up with those jogger dudes and those shorts anyway? Why they gots ta be so tiny?
I'm out of ideas for this post so I'm just going to end it abruptly. Peace out.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Relax, fun nazi's...I'm just kidding about the mini-fridge. He keeps his tequila in the couch cushion, just like his father.
So he's grounded until he gets his grades back up. He's dealt with it okay so far. But that's about to change because Captain Carl just pulled the most evil Dad move ever.
He bought Rock Band.
And he's not going to let the kiddo play. Not until the grades come up.
The man is an evil genius.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Every flinging flanging year my kid comes home with the dreaded school fundraising materials. And because I refuse to let my child pimp himself out by knocking on strangers doors, it's up to me to sell it. Yes, that's right Mom and Dad! Time again to beg your friends and co-workers to buy some overpriced crap out of a catalog in order to "raise funds for my child's band/senior/history class trip". Seriously dudes, could the shit they put in these catalogs be any more lame?
That's a plastic pizza cutter, by the way. And it really is one of the things in my kid's fundraiser catalog this year. Which is totally sweet, because these things? Are. The. Shit. Seriously, this pizza cutter is a Papa Johns prep cook's wet dream.
Watch out...this is where the sarcasm really gets good.
Attention nazi fundraising company that only gives my kid 40% of the funds he raises selling this garbage! Prepare to have your collective minds blown when my kid turns in his order form. You probably don't even have enough of these pizza cutters in stock to cover all his orders.
Oh, and don't forget to send him his totally awesome and absolutely age-appropriate prize for selling over 50 items...I'm pretty sure he's going to pick the oversized American Idol ballpoint pen, so box it up and get ready to ship it. Only 48 more orders and that bitch is ours.
Now doesn't that look like something every 16 year old boy wants? Yeah, it makes pimping out your parents totally worth it.
Monday, October 13, 2008
So ummmm, yeah...I'm totally back like Backstreet. All right! All you people, can't you see can't you see....why I'm blahblah mmmhhh haaa my reality....
Oops, sorry. So check it out...I just read my chicken breast entry to my husband and he asked me why I'm not blogging anymore. So I said all intelligent-like "I don't know." And then he told me to start writing again, and I totally am because I always do what my husband tells me to...otherwise he gives me the pimp hand.
I do love that pimp hand.
So what's up in ya'll world? Leave me a comment yo!
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Also, how do you keep your husband from divorcing you when you refuse to get rid of said cat but instead add a third litter box in the family room where she is pooping in the hopes that she'll start using that instead of the floor and then you can eventually move it into the room where you really want her to poop?
Sunday, April 20, 2008
On another note, I managed to pull myself out of my phlegm stupor long enough yesterday to do a pretty good photo session for a family. I was coughing a lung up the whole time, but I am happy to say I got some really got shots.
It's been so beautiful this weekend, I just hate that I can't really enjoy it. I just don't understand why I can't just get a little cold and be over it in a couple days. Every flingin' flangin' time I get the sniffles, it winds up being a major infection. I was never like this until I moved to Texas. I'm telling you, the air is toxic here in DFW. Blech.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
It's really quite amazing how much snot your sinuses can produce. Especially when you have an upper respiratory infection that just won't quit. Seriously, my mucus could probably take over the world if I didn't blow my nose every 5 minutes.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Anyway, Vegas was fantastic! I did not come home a huge winner, but I did not spend my whole budget...so I guess that makes me a winner in some way. I spent the first day with a dehydrated headache...took me a whole 24 hours to get over that. That sucked. But the rest of the trip was great. I even enjoyed having our flight home cancelled (thanks American Airlines!) because we got an extra night in Vegas and I won $100 on a penny slot machine. Sweet! But I had to take an extra day off from work because of the cancelled flight, so that part sucked.
And now I'm home from work today thanks to a wicked upper respiratory infection. My second in two months, thank you very much. I'm so tired of having to use vacation days for being sick. I get sick way too much since I moved to Texas.
Anyway, good news....I'm a wannabe portrait photographer and just started my business! Woot! I'll link to my website once it's up and running properly.
Monday, March 31, 2008
How the fuck long do you cook chicken breasts anyway? They've been in the oven for 50 damn minutes and they are still only at 140 (where the hell is the degree sign on a keyboard???). The interwebs say they need to be at a minimum of 160. How long does that take...for fuck's sake!
Now me and the kid will be eating dried up chicken breasts, like that turkey in Christmas Vacation.
So obviously Captain Carl is the cook in our house. And he's not here tonight. He left me, all alone to deal with this FUCKING CHICKEN!
I hate cooking.
And while we're on the subject...I totally dance like this ...I even sing the same song.
So far this is my favorite performance this season on American Idol.
If you haven't seen some of Ross the Intern's videos, you are missing out. Hil-ar-ious. This one is my favorite.
Every office needs this guy. Hey Janice!
I heart Andy Sandberg.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Lately I've been itching to cut it off. We're going to Vegas (baby!) in two weeks, and I really wanted to have my cute, kicky short cut back for vacation. I finally went and did it today. I picked a haircut from a magazine, showed it to my hairstylist and off she went.
It's important for me to note that I have never worried about cutting off my long hair. My hair grows fast and so my philosophy has always been "it's only hair, it will grow back". No big whoop.
So as my hairstylist starts cutting...and cutting...and cutting, I start silently freaking out. I'm screaming in my head, "NOooo!!!". I don't know what the hell happened, but apparently I was not as ready to cut it off as I thought. And just when I'd calmed myself down, she says to me "Well it too late to put back on, hope you happy!" and then she giggles. She's asian and does not speak very good english, so at first I thought I must have heard her wrong. Surely she didn't say that! But she did. Fuck.
Just my luck, I'm sitting in a styling chair right between two young, skinny women with hair hanging to the middle of their backs. One is getting hers straightened and the other is getting hers colored. I caught both of them shooting alarmed looks my way several times. I wanted to bitch slap both of them. Hard.
Every time my sylist would swing me out so I'm facing the rest of the salon, I would frantically search for any young, beautiful women that may be having their hair chopped off too. The only ones I saw were about my mother's age. I swear to God, the lady that sat down behind me told her stylist "just take a tiny bit off, I'm loving how it looks long!" Arrggghh....
So she dries it and styles it all poofy on top to make me look like I'm 50 years old and butch...I am neither of those things. Technically, the cut is exactly what I asked for though, so I figure I'll go home and style it my way and it will be fantastic. I drive home and anticipate what my adoring husband will say to make me feel better, like he usually does when I'm having image issues.
Me: What do you think?
Me: You don't like it?
Him: Do you like it?
Me: I'm not sure, I think I hate it
Him: Well, it's really short.
Me: Is that bad?
Him: I like your hair long.
Me: So you hate it?
Him: I don't hate it, it just isn't my favorite.
Him: Well, it's not THAT bad.
And that's where I burst into tears.
I know I can make it look better tomorrow. I'm sure I will love it! Really! I will!
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Did I mention Boo speaks in an Antonio Banderas voice?
My husband is voting to "set him free in nature where he longs to be with his own kind." Luckily for Boo, this house is run by an autonomous dictatorship...and guess who's the dictator.
So ummm, what's a tag exactly? No kidding, I really didn't know until I went to her blog and kind of figured it out. So basically what I'm getting is someone tags you...you answer the questions...and then you tag others?? Am I right? Please help the tagging virgin...if this is wrong, please tell me so I can edit this post quickly before more people see what a stupid noob I am!
So here's the dealio.
1. Place your link at the end of the list. If you have more than 1 blog, feel free to add them all here!
2. After placing your blog’s address, you must tag 5 or more bloggers that are not yet on the list, this is to keep the ball rolling. (Please remember to let the bloggers know they've been tagged!)
The Strategist Notebook ~ Link Addiction ~ Ardour of the Heart ~ When Life Becomes a Book ~ The Malaysian Life ~ Yogatta.com ~ What goes under the sun ~ Roshidan’s Cyber Station ~ Sasha says ~ Arts of Physics ~ And the legend lives ~ My View, My Life ~ A Simple Life ~ Juliana RW ~ Mom Knows Everything ~ Beth & Cory’s Mom ~ A Mind Forever Voyaging~ enjoying the ride ~ Jennifer’s thoughts ~ Mom of 3 Girls ~ Amanda ~ Don’t Make Me Get The Flying Monkeys ~ ExPat Mom ~ Just Jessie ~ Wilson Six ~Krisitn ~ Nuttier Than You ~ Shonnte ~ Summer’s Nook ~ Laura Williams Musings ~ Sher ~ Shanda ~ Seven QTPies ~ Mel ~ Skittles ~ Lady Banana ~ Momhood Moments ~ Business Mars ~ A Simple life ~ moms….. check nyo ~ Mommy’s Little Corner ~ Pampered ~ HappyHeart ~ Make Every Day Your Lucky Day ~ Thumbelina Creations ~ Ivonnardona's Creations ~ Jewellery Craft ~ A Bead a Day~ Useless Ramblings ~Candid Yammering ~ Green Eyed Mama ~ Yo-Mama's Blog
This is pretty cool for a new blogger like me. I really wanted to find interesting blogs to read, and here is a list for me to start with. Awesome, thanks Green Eyed Mama. Unfortunately, I don't really know who to tag, since I am new...so I'm allowing myself to skip that part. What?? I'll catch up on the next round, m'kay?
And here are my seven weird things about me.
1. I can recite Pee Wee's Big Adventure pretty much from beginning to end. Best. Movie. Ever. I have a thing for Pee Wee (the character...not Paul Reubens...there is a big difference), which explains all the references here. Ask me a question about that movie, I'll have the answer.
2. I have conversations with myself out loud. I have since I was a little girl. I was the youngest of 4 daughters, but I came 10 years after them, so it was pretty much like being an only child. I played a lot by myself, so I pretended there was always someone in the room with me. I never had a specific imaginary friend, I just had conversations with no one. And I never shook that habit, I do it every single day. I get caught all the time. Recently I was in the restroom at work, just chatting away before I realized someone else was in there. Awwwwkward!
3. I believe in ghosts. Big time. I had an experience in the house I grew up in that I swear is true. I bought a digital voice recorder this year and actually tried to get some EVP's (electronic voice phenomenon, duh) at a supposedly haunted B&B recently. I watch ghost hunting shows on tv, I read about people's encounters with ghosts and look at ghost pictures online. I've tried to capture spirits in pictures. I email spooky videos and evp's to my friends. Most of my family and friends are non-believers, so I get made fun of a lot.
4. When I'm really happy or excited, I do the running man. Doesn't matter where I am. Grocery store, the office, in the front yard. I just can't contain myself. As an added bonus, I have really big boobs so imagine that sight.
5. I heart karaoke. It makes me so happy! The more I drink , the better I am at it. I made my husband buy me a stand-up karaoke machine for Christmas last year...and we use it all the time. My signature song is "Baby Got Back". I know every single word of it, and I actually get requests for it...no kidding. Like I'm some kind of fucking lounge singer. It's fantastic!!
6. I swear. All the time. I have no inner monologue and I say all the bad words at the most inappropriate times.
7. I hate the word "moist". Yuck.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
I've struggled that whole time with my weight. I realized sometime last year that I most likely will always be a fat chick to some degree. I would love to get down to a size 14, that's all I really want. So in most people's eyes I will still be fat even if I achieve that goal. That's okay with me, I've now accepted that most people will think I have no will power or self-control. The reality is that is pretty much true. I have almost no will power against fried foods and my self-control is usually hanging on by a string most days.
However, I do have another reason that I just discovered last year for my weight problems. I have a non-functioning thyroid. My doctor discovered it last summer after I gained 10 lbs. in two months. I've been on meds since then and have sometimes felt better, sometimes felt worse. I'm learning that thyroid disease is a constant battle to be fought. It also makes me exhausted and completely worn out most days, even when I'm on the meds. So now I can partially blame my thyroid for being a fat chick. Stupid thyroid. You suck.
I would love to find some other thyroid girlies out there to piss and moan with about our disease. Do any of you sometimes feel like your fingers look like sausages and why have I only lost 5 lbs since I started my meds and yet my levels are good? I mean, I don't need to be thin..I just want to feel good again.
But my husband has come to the rescue once again! I broke his laptap about 5 months ago in a cleaning fit....apparently I broke the screen while closing it in a dusting fury. So we've had no computer downstairs. Seems like not a big deal to normal people. But for lazy and fat people...major issue. Anyway, today we got a package from Dell and I'm all "what the hell?" and he's all "oh yeah, I bought a new laptap" and I'm all "what the hell?" and he's all "I forgot to tell you but it was almost the same price as getting a new screen for the one you broke with your giant thumbs of death". So yea! we now have a laptap downstairs. Which means my fat ass can blog blog blog while watching Ghost Hunters and Medium. Awesome!
Monday, March 3, 2008
My last celebrity encounter was when Captain Carl and I saw Mike Tyson while waiting in line for the buffet at The Bellagio in Vegas on our honeymoon 5 years ago. We were standing there and here comes this guy with bodyguards and big tattoo on his face.
Me: *whispering* That guy looks just like Mike Tyson!
Captain Carl: That's because it is Mike Tyson.
Me: Holy crap! He's not that big in person. I think I could take him.
And I total could have, if I had not been in such a hurry to get to the crab legs. Because Mike Tyson? Total weenie.
Side note...if you have not had the pleasure of sampling the little slice of heaven that is The Bellagio buffet's open-face crab legs...you are missing out, my friend. What's better than crab legs? Already sawed open crab legs...so you don't have to crack them, thus enabling you to eat twice as many and bring on an even earlier heart attack. That's what's better. Duh.
Anyhoo, I read this article today. I've never heard of this before, but how awesomely gross and disturbing is that! Hair and teeth??!! Gah!
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Great start on my blogging career, eh?
Jenny, you kick ass.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
But today is a good day to start telling you about my life, so I guess I'll skip funny for now. My son turns 16 today. Wail, cry! Technically he is my stepson and I've only been in his life since he was 8 years old. But he lives full-time with his dad (Captain Carl) and me...he has since he was 8. And I have no biological children (I hate saying "I have no children of my own"....makes me feel like I've failed in life somehow. More on this later). So he's it for me.
This kiddo is one of the two greatest loves of my life (the other is his daddy), although I doubt he knows that. I mean, he knows I love him but I seriously doubt he understands the depth of that love. It is a throw-myself-in-front-of-a-moving-train-in-order-to-save-his-life kind of love. So yeah, I guess it's the love a regular old mom has for their child. I did not give birth to him and did not meet him early enough in his life to get the privilege of being called "Mom". His birth mother, who barely ever sees him or calls him, who can't be bothered to come see him perform in a band concert or just to visit with him....she gets that. But that's okay most of the time for me. Because I get his hugs and smiles every single day. I get to talk to him about school, his girlfriend, his music every night at dinner. I get to wash his laundry....okay, that's not so fun but still. You get the idea.
I asked him last night for the 100th time what he wants for his birthday. He just shrugged and said he didn't know...maybe just some money so he can buy another guitar. I looked at this child with his Billy Dee Williams moustache and a realization slammed into my gut. He is more of a man than a boy now. He treats birthdays exactly like my husband does...with a "whatever" kind of attitude...he's too busy with life to worry about one day, we can celebrate it on the weekend or whenever we get around to it. Right now he's more concerned with texting his girlfriend and playing guitar. Sniff.