UPDATED: Happiness Is....

Sitting on the couch on a Saturday night, listening to your husband and your son play Sweet Home Alabama on their guitars together.

Seriously...this is my happy place.

I'd videotape it for y'all, but I know they'd stop playing once I got the camera out. And I could listen to this forever, so you'll just have to trust me on this. It's about as awesome as life gets.


UPDATE: Holy shit, this day just keeps getting better and better. They are doing a Laser Cats skit on SNL. Lock and load, bitches!

Our Roommates Have Crabs

I found out what the coconut husks are for.

It's for the roommates' crabs.

In addition to the beta fish they now have two hermit crabs. Apparently the coconut husks get mixed in with their sand or some such shit. You know those giant plastic storage tubs that you put Christmas decorations in? Yeah, they are using one of those as the terrarium. For two teeny tiny hermit crabs. I'm not even kidding.

Oh...and the sister's cat has moved in with her today. My beautiful spare bedrooms have turned into college petting zoos.

Gotta run...Captain Carl is channeling Mr. Roper and I'm going to help him fix the roommates' door. Okay, I'm not really going to help. I'm going to stand there and make annoying suggestions until he yells at me. It's what we do.

I wonder how Stanley would have dealt with hermit crabs?

My Ears Are Bleeding

The Kiddo, his best friend Emo, Eco Nazi and Kool Aid are right this very minute having an extremely serious and loud discussion in my kitchen about the clothing selection at Hot Topic. At the same time, the Kiddo is playing guitar while Emo's trance music (that he composed himself, thankyouverymuch) is playing on my laptop.

It's kind of like living in a sitcom, except with less laugh track and more headache.

The roommates went grocery shopping last night. It's amazing how many Totino's pizzas those two can eat in a week. Does anyone know what you use coconut husks for? Because the roommates have some and they were soaking it in one my saucepans. I'm scared.

Can I Just Say?

WTF Brad Pitt?

Seriously Brad? Seriously with the moustache?

I remember you when you looked like this....

Now THAT is a moustache.

That is a Legends-of-the-Fall-I-wanna-hump-you-Tristan moustache right there.

You're this close to being the next Goulet. Except less cool.

Maybe you're just trying to emulate your buddy?

Yeah, that's not so good either.

If you've got to copy him, maybe this look instead?

Oooh yeah, that's a million times better...

Or how about this?




Mama like.


Ahem...anyway....


You know Brad, I am a photographer. How's about you shave off that little guy, put on your swim trunks and meet me at the lake for a photoshoot?





George sure enjoyed it, I'm sure you would too.

Stem Cells And Parking Garages

Captain Carl and I were discussing this last night. We were just hanging out, talking about how awesome it is that FINALLY stem cell research will happen in our own country. The Captain, in his quest for all knowledge in the universe, has read a lot about stem cell research and was telling me some stuff about it. Stuff I can't remember now, because my quest for knowledge? Pretty much limited to gossip, snacks and ghost hunting. Kidding! Kind of.

So Eco Nazi drifts through the room right at that point and I just KNEW he'd have something brilliant to say about our topic of discussion. And of course, I was right.

Eco Nazi: You guys talking about stem cell research?

The Captain: Sure are...

Eco Nazi: I wrote a paper about it one time. If you guys have any questions, just let me know.

The Captain: We'll be sure to do that.

Eco Nazi: I sent it to the President. He probably didn't read it, though.

Me: Yeah, probably not. Presidents are weird that way.

The last few days, the roommates have been entertaining themselves by riding the Dart Rail into downtown Dallas. They came back from their first trip and told us they snuck into the King Tut exhibit at the DMA. But they got caught after the first room and got kicked out. They thought this was hilarious and awesome. Then they wandered around some residential high rises, pretended to visit someone so they could ride the elevator to the top of the building and then got lost in a parking garage "for like 45 minutes" and it was "really funny".

Sigh and eye roll. Double eye roll.

At least they are still washing their dishes after every meal. Even though I have to re-wash most of the pans because they wash them with just a splash of cold water. You know, to save the environment from wasteful water usage.

I've pretty much decided we're going to use disposable styrofoam plates and cups for every meal in retaliation.

I Was Going To Blog About American Idol, But This Happened Instead

Captain Carl is going away for 3 days next week for a business meet and greet in Oklahoma. He's leaving me alone with the renters. And the 3rd roommate and her cat are moving in during that time. Aack! I'm totally outnumbered!

And I can't even count the Kiddo on my side, even though he'll be there. Because he's closer to their age than mine and therefore he is a dumbass by association. Last night he saw Eco Nazi in the kitchen and said "Hey dude, what's up?" and Eco Nazi said "Not much, how's it hangin?" and then Eco Nazi offered the Kiddo some of his totally bad ass shrimp with spanish fried rice and the Kiddo offered Eco Nazi some of his pizza and then they were all "sweet" and "awesome" and "later" and then I shot myself in the face.

Yep, you read that correctly - spanish fried rice. With shrimp. Hurl.

Next subject!

Last night, the Kiddo failed to come home after band practice. The Captain and I had an appointment we could not miss, so we told the Kiddo to catch a ride home from practice, which ends around 5pm. So we get home at 6:45 and the Kiddo is nowhere to be seen. 25 unanswered calls and 10 text messages to his cell later, he's still not home and we are starting to freak out. Visions of car wrecks dance through my head.

At 7:30, we decide to drive around looking for him. And if any of you have ever tried to find a teenager in a suburban city, you know how impossible that task can be. Luckily, we decided to drive by the school relatively early in our quest. Low and behold, there was a basketball game. And after convincing the beat down mom selling tickets that I just wanted to peek into the gym to find my missing son and really I would be right back and wouldn't need to buy a ticket and please for the love of all that is good and holy let me in that gym or I'm going to lose it right here in front of you lady and when the cops come to drag me off I'll tell them it was all your fault....I found him. Standing with some of his dorky band friends, flirting with the cheerleaders and wearing his 80's jeans.

I was ecstatic he was alive.

I decided I was going to kill him.

So I walk over, tap him on the shoulder and smile when he says, "Hey what's up!". Then I grab him by the arm and say "Hey let's go talk over here for a minute." all unnaturally happy and smiley but shooting daggers from eyes....because I wanted only him to know he was in deep shit. I didn't want the strangers around me to realize I was about to lay the smackdown on my kid in a public place. He immediately picked up on it and got worried. Real worried. Smart kid, that one.

The first thing I told him was "It's a damn good thing I'm in here to look for you instead of your father, or right this very minute you would be the most embarassed kid to ever walk the halls of this high school. 20 years from now, people would be telling the story of the kid who's father screamed at him in front of the whole school and how that kid never ever ever got another date, especially with a cheerleader and all because he didn't bother to call and tell his parents where he was."

Then I smiled again, took a deep breath and proceeded to explain to him why he was in trouble and that we would see him after the game to discuss the matter. Then I put my hand over my heart because the national anthem was starting and I'm nothing if not a patriotic parent. When the choir kids finished their screaching yet heartwarming rendition of the anthem, I shot him one last warning look and stomped out.

Parenting is awesome.

Captain Carl's Corner

Happy Inauguration Day, bitches!! Yea! I'm so happy today, I could just scream "Yes We Can!". Except Eco Nazi is down here right now burning shrimp in a frying pan at 10pm in my kitchen, so maybe I'll yell "Don't you be eating that smelly shit up in my beautiful bedroom!" instead. And oh my goodness, I just caught him using our garlic salt in his food. That is soooo not covered in his rent.

Well...ahem. That wasn't the real post for today. The real post is down below...and it's written by my awesome guest blogger: my husband. I present to you, Captain Carl's Corner....


Holy Shi-ate people...

I better get a job soon or it'll be open season on crystal gripping, patchouly smelling, eco-loving students.

I admit I didn't get much job hunting done today because I was glued to the Inauguration most of the day. I could go on about that, but thought I'd share one of my interactions with Kool-Aid and Eco-Nazi instead.

10 seconds into Obama's swearing in speech and after the third time politely turning up the volume so I could hear over the droning noise that was Eco expounding on his view of the world he asked this little gem:

“Do you know who the last president to pay off the national debt was?” I did, but I was not in the mood to interrupt a potentially historic moment for a history lesson from this dip-shit. I resisted the urge to give him the “Spock Pinch” and roll him up in the rug long enough to ask him “Who?”; hoping to move this along...

I'm not sure what in the hell they are teaching these kids, but I almost burst out laughing when he told me it was Grant.....WTF?! Grant? I nodded, laughed to myself, grunted politely and blasted the volume up to 50. He eventually got the hint and wandered off. I can only assume to huff some more nail polish under the guise of key decorating.

Come on! It was JACKSON, not Grant, JACKSON. You're an idiot and it was in 1835 to boot. Grant wasn't president until 1869 after a pesky little thing called the Civil War. Read a book or know what the hell you're talking about before you speak. F-me!

What can I say, it's a real honor to take history notes from a kid that wasn't able to wipe his own ass the year that I graduated from high school. I probably have underwear with traces of DNA older than Eco-Nazi and I would be willing to bet my underwear is smarter. I feel like I'm trapped in a bad Rush Limbaugh episode.. Miss Yvonne and Cap'n Carl under siege: day 5.......

Kool Aid and Eco Nazi

I've named the new roommates Eco Nazi and Kool Aid. Okay, Captain Carl named them...but this is my blog so we'll just say I named them.

Last night, Eco Nazi came downstairs and asked me if I had any spray paint they could use. Ummmmm, what? I immediately had a vision of him and Kool Aid huffing away in their room and then grabbing their fish and jumping out the window in an aerosol-induced mind bender. So even though we do have spray paint, I told him no. Then I asked the logical question. "Are you high or just a moron?" Just kidding, I didn't ask that. I did ask him why he wanted it though and he said that they wanted to paint their house keys so they could tell them apart. Because apparently they are janitors and have one of those big key rings with 25 keys on it.

I suggested nail polish instead. He said that Kool Aid did have some of that. He got half way up the stairs and then said "Do you have any nail polish with color, because hers is clear and that probably won't work." Genius. The kid is a genius.

So I pulled out my container of nail polish for him. He starts looking through it and sees that it is mostly shades of red and pink. He voices his disappointment that I didn't have any that he considered to be "fire engine red". Sigh. So I pull out an orange and a blue and he likes those. He calls Kool Aid down, and they proceed to spend 20 minutes sitting in the kitchen doing something with their keys and nail polish. Seriously, 20 minutes. They tell me they are going to leave them there to dry and head upstairs. So of course, I go see what they were up to and almost fall on the floor trying to hold my laughter in. The brain trust didn't just put a drop of nail polish on the top of the keys, nor did they just paint the whole top. Instead they painted the whole key blue and painted the little part on the top that had the key number on it orange. So it was like some kind of art project.

I'm a little worried for them. What will they do when all that nail polish flakes off after they stick them in the lock a few times? They'll be out there on the front porch, just pacing back and forth and freaking out about which key to try.

Tonight they told us they were going to the mall so Kool Aid could look for a receptionist job.

A receptionist job. At the mall.

True story.

We Have Roommates. I Hate It.

So two of our three renters moved in last night. 21 year-old boy and 18 year-old girlfriend. Honestly, they seem pretty decent so far. But I hate it. I hate that I have to give up my pretty, girly spare bedrooms that my parents and my sisters and Captain Carl's family and the Kiddo's friends used to sleep in. I hate that I had to clear out the personal things that mean so much to me...things that used to belong to my Grandma's, things that were given to me as gifts. I hate that those rooms are not mine to enter anymore. I will have to knock if I want in, and really who are we kidding because I won't want in while they are living here. I don't want to see what my rooms look like now. They've already asked me if they can switch some of the furniture around between the rooms. And even though I hate the thought of my carefully planned out rooms being rearranged, I have to say yes. Because they are paying us to use them.

And it is weird, my bloggy friends. Weird with a capital W...having these strange kids here. This young, barely adult girl who is living with her boyfriend. I don't know anything about them, except that they drove to Texas from another state last night. To be here for what, I don't know except that his sister is here and will also be living with us soon. They can't possibly have jobs yet, so will they go to school or look for work? Who knows...and as long as they pay their rent, it's not my business.

I do have to say, they are pretty friendly and I do appreciate that. They seem fairly comfortable already in our kitchen and I hope that means they'll treat our home with respect and not abuse the (in my mind anyway) great deal they are getting here. I'm trying to be positive, because really this is the best solution for us right now. It's either this, or put the house up for sale and risk losing it completely. Captain Carl came up with this awesome idea, and it's so much better to lose two rooms and a bathroom temporarily than losing the whole house. I just have to keep reminding myself that it wasn't long ago I was their age and acted the same way. They aren't terrorists (hopefully), they are young people finding their way in the world. And yes, my carpet will probably get stained and my paint will get scratched and my mattress will...gross, I can't even think about what will happen to my mattress. But all that can be cleaned up. It's nothing dramatic like cancer or car accidents or anything else life-threatening. So keep it in perspective, Miss Yvonne. That's an order!

Attention Captain Carl...this part is for you. Apologies to you, my dear Captain, because I know you read my blog and I know it will bother you that I'm unhappy. And blogging about it. But please know that I'm so proud of you for coming up with a way to keep your family in their home. And I will adjust, as I always do. I only ask that you let me sulk a little and you don't take it personally. You know I'm a whiny bitch, it's just my way. Love you!

Okay, moving on....

So last night, they signed their lease, which was quite comical in itself. I'd forgot how when you are just barely an adult, you think you know everything. I was the same way, I'm sure I was a total self-righteous idiot. These kids read that lease word for word (and it was long...my sister, the attorney, wrote it for us). The brother said he wanted "to be sure he isn't getting screwed." Okay kid, whatever...good for you for being so careful. Then they signed and the only question he had for us was "Has anyone ever died in this house?".

What. The. Fuck. Kid.

And apparently he majored or is majoring in some kind of environmental conservation or something like that. And the girlfriend has Kool-Aid purple hair. So I told the Captain I really hope they aren't vegetarian hippies who will lecture us whenever we eat meat. No offense to all you vegetarian hippies out there...peace and love, baby. Apparently they aren't though, because they came back from shopping today with bags full of standard college food....Totino's 3 meat pizzas, ramen noodles and beef taquitos. They bought so much, we almost couldn't fit it all into our freezers...yes, we have two and there was barely enough room. And the sister hasn't even moved in yet. Soooo, that could be a problem. And while they were unloading all this food, the brother told me he hates that whenever he tells people about his "work", they ask him if he is a hippie and he hates that because he "hates hippies because they talk about changing the world but never do it." Kid, you are cracking me up over here! I guess they might be good for a laugh as well as a check each month.

Okay, this post has gotten way longer than I meant for it to be. If you actually read the whole thing, my apologies. If you just skipped to the bottom, smart move. :-)

American Idol.....Paula and Kara Showdown

Are y'all watching American Idol? We are, mainly because Captain Carl insists on watching every episode. Seriously girlfriend, don't EVEN be trying to turn the channel or God forbid talk to him while his AI is on. American Idol is his soap opera. This man will tease me to no end for watching Young and the Restless (best. soap. ever.) when I'm home sick from work. He finds it endlessly humorous when my Mom calls to give me the update on what Nick and Sharon are up to in Genoa City. This is why I have to make fun of his love for all things American Idol. On my public blog. You'd think typing that last sentence would make me stop and reconsider publishing this post. Wrong.

This is Nick and Sharon, by the way.

I hate Sharon, she's a total bitch disguised as a nice person. Those are the worst kind of bitches.

Now, I have to say that I do enjoy the American Idol very much. My favorite part is when they finally get to the main stage and the real competition begins. I do enjoy the first couple episodes too, where they show all the whack jobs and train wrecks. But that gets old to me and I get bored. Captain Carl can't get enough of that shit. He always hates to see the end of the freak show...

So...since I'm going to see every single episode again this year, I thought I'd do a little AI discussion once a week. Or once a month. Or only this one time. Whatever I feel like, basically.

Let's just get this one out of the way.

Blech. So disappointed that this hoochie could carry a tune. I did enjoy seeing that awkward kiss she gave Ryan. Poor little gay guy, didn't know what to do with her.

Moving on.......to this sad sad sad audition.

Dude.....no. Seriously....noooooo. No to the headband, no to the pleather pants, no to singing Bon Jovi. Just no.

This one will get annoying very quickly.

P.S. Carrie Underwood called. She wants her audition outfit back.

I don't know what scared me most about this guy....

...the two "cheerleaders" who were so weirdly different from each other, the fact that the judges put up with their stupid bullshit, or the awful awful faces the dude made while he was singing.

A word to all you future American Idol contestants....as Captain Carl says, gimmicks don't work. No one who has brought props, extra people or stupid outfits (unless they are bikinis, apparently) makes it through.

And finally....a little tete a tete between Paula and Kara.

Kara: Ha ha ahaa, oh Paula! You're so cute....in the way that kittens about to be thrown in a bag and drowned in the river and have their jobs stolen by kittens without prescription drug addictions are cute.

Paula: Listen girly, you are just a younger, more sober version of me. You could never replace me. I'm a national treasure, dammit. Hey, rabbits in the dryer on the 19th floor zoomly over the rainbow....

Kara: Uh, right... Anyway, during auditions I've been giving Randy a good view of my bongos...if you know what I mean. And now that I know Simon likes bikinis, I'll be wearing one tomorrow. Good luck keeping your job after that.

Paula: You know what? It is what it is. I have more talent in my whole body than you have in your little pinky. Wait, reverse that. My pinky has more talent than my whole body. Bongos are fun.

Kara: Did I mention I'm a songwriter? Cause I am. I am totally a songwriter. A songwriter that has worked with Celine Dion. SONGWRITER.

Paula: Sleeb this is a probem, in dis are told Simon knows in the way and going to Randy for the pitchy part.

Kara: This will be easier than I thought....

Hey Smart People! I Need Your Help.

So last night I opened a can of Nectar From The Gods...aka Diet Coke. I only drank about 1/4 of it and when it was time for bed, I couldn't bring myself to pour it out like I usually do. See, I'm a pretty wasteful person. I admit it freely. Okay, I do recycle. I recycle like a Mo Fo. But I dump a lot of stuff and spend money stupidly. A lot. A LOT.

But last night as I walked to the kitchen sink to dump my nectar down the drain, I stopped myself. I don't know if you noticed, but the Captain and I? Kind of broke at the moment. So I stuck a paper towel in the open can, put it in the fridge and drank it this morning instead of opening a fresh one like I usually do. Diet Coke is my morning coffee and I hate flat soda...but I did it because dumping it out would have been like dumping 50 cents.

We need to majorly change our lifestyle...it got serious the day Captain Carl lost his job. Wicked serious, y'all. So I figure I gotta start somewhere. I guess saving and finishing a can of Diet Coke is my start.

So, my bloggy friends....this is where you come in. I need your help. I need ideas! Suggestions! Advice! Please, help a sista out and give me some tips for smart spending and saving.

Give it up.....

Feeling Slightly Optimistic

Things are sort of looking better for the Captain and his Miss Yvonne. Since we are currently dead broke and have a mortgage and all the stuff that goes with it to pay, Captain Carl came up with a short-term plan and a long-term plan. The long-term plan is pretty simple. Get a job and stop buying stupid shit. So until the job part happens for him, we have implemented a pretty awesome and terrifying short-term plan. We are renting out our two spare bedrooms. We advertised on craigslist (hi murderers, please come live in my house) and several people responded. We showed the rooms to a 19 year old college student and her brother on Saturday...on Sunday they called and said they want the rooms. Captain Carl has completed the background checks and they are clean as a whistle. So starting this weekend, we'll have roomies. Just like back in college....only with less alcohol and sex, hopefully.




Yeah, I'm kind of freaked. We replaced all of our doorknobs with key-locking ones, so we can protect our valuables....such as our social security numbers and our most valuable possession, the Kiddo. These kids that are renting are barely older than him, so that does make me feel better. We were hoping for a single mom or something sweet like that, but college-aged siblings is the next best thing. The brother is bringing his girlfriend....not happy about that. But if we had said no, we might not have been able to rent both rooms, and renting both rooms means they are paying our mortgage each month. So we put the young couple (What does this girl's mother think of this???) in the bedroom furthest from the Kiddo....you know, so he has less chance of listening to them hump like rabbits. But that means the single, 19 year old sister will be in the room right next to him. Which is worse? I honestly don't know. But the Kiddo has received numerous forceful lectures about behaving himself and reporting to us if our new rommates do not behave themselves. All we can do now is pray.



Yesterday was my 35th birthday. I'd been dreading it for a couple months actually...my mom was 35 when she had me and it used to seem like an old age. But after Captain Carl got laid off and the housing crisis hit us, turning 35 became very unimportant. Who cares? At least I'm healthy and have my family...and as my mom says, the alternative to getting older really sucks, hardcore. Or something like that. I'm pretty sure she's never said "sucks" in her life, unless she was talking about the flowbee.

Awwww yeah, you rock that 'stache, 80's dude.

I'm Still Here. Kind Of.

Apologies all around to my bloggy buddies. I'll be in and out of bloggy land for the next few days/weeks/forever, but probably won't be posting a whole lot. Turns out dealing with unemployment, debts and an empty bank account takes up a lot of time and energy. Huh, who knew.

Here's the last 48 hours of my life in a nutshell....more like a nutsack, actually.

Husband loses job. Husband and wife have very small freak out and then relax a bit. Husband and wife realize how broke they are and have major freak out. Husband and wife contemplate selling house. Husband and wife have ginormous freak out. Wife has to say goodbye to parents who are flying back home after holidays. Wife sobs hysterically 50 times in 24 hour period. Husband and wife sleep 2 hours total. Wife goes to work in disguise as depressed zombie. Husband stays home to call attorney and real estate agent. Wife only drinks one glass of water on Monday. Wife realizes on Tuesday she has only peed 3 times since Sunday. Wife drinks gallon of water. Wife doesn't eat for 24 hours and believes she is developing a stress ulcer. Wife contemplates side benefit of being too stressed out to eat. Wife loses a pound. Wife eats cinnamon bun and 5 Dove chocolates. Wife gains 2 pounds. Husband and wife start selling their shit.

That's pretty much it. Nutsack indeed.

Pretty Much The Worst Day Ever

Captain Carl got laid off yesterday. It was kind of expected, but we weren't even close to being financially ready for it. So yeah, that sucked. That's all I'm going to say about that for now. Too fresh to discuss.

The Kiddo's girlfriend gave him hickies all over his neck. While she was in our home. With three of his friends in the room. He's in a world of hurt right now, because not only is he being punished by us, but the dumb girl emailed her friends about what she did and her parents read her email and now he's not allowed to be alone with her. Ever. Which is fine with me, because apparently the girl has no discretion and neither does my son. What a couple of dumb asses. He tried to tell us he told her to stop but she was too strong. Uh huh, right. Really, that's the best you got? You aren't strong enough to pull your teeny tiny girlfriend off of you and stop her from sucking on your neck? Sigh.

Oh, and last night he went to the mall with his friends and came home looking like a reject from an 80's boy band. I had to do a double take, because he never dresses like that. His bottom half pretty much looked like this, except his are ripped up and one step away from being acid washed.

Yuck. I know skinny jeans are pretty popular right now for boys, but the Kiddo is really not the type to wear them. One of his friends is though, so I imagine he was influenced by this idiot. It was really hard not to laugh at him. So I did.

The best part was that he was also wearing a black mock turtleneck (to cover the hickies, of course) with a black vest and a puka shell necklace. Nice. This is his outfit to wear tonight to see Trans Siberian Orchestra with his girlfriend and her parents. I will definitely be taking a picture of that. You know, for future embarassment.