‘Tis The Season To Be Those Relatives

If you’ve followed my blog for any length of time, you know that Captain Carl and I are pretty strapped for cash these days. I don’t care what the politicians and polls say, the economy in our world is not recovering yet. I have a good job and the Captain is doing okay with his business, but we are just barely making ends meet. So he continues to job search and I continue to kick ass at work in the hopes of getting another pay raise and a promotion. And of course we still have Huey, who basically pays the Kiddo’s allowance with his rent each month.

I’m not going to complain about having less than other people. Mainly because we used to be the “other people” and we completely fucked it up by being arrogant and dumb about jobs and money. We’ve learned our lesson and now we’re just trying to hang on until we can pad the savings account again.

But in the meantime, the Christmas season has arrived. And damn, but it came faster this year than other years for some reason. I wasn’t prepared for it like I was last year. Last year I set aside a fair amount of cash for presents early on. I had most of my shopping done by the end of October. But not this year. This year, I completely put it off and now I’m paying for it. Well, our families are paying for it actually.

See, we just don’t have enough money to buy everyone nice presents. It’s just not possible. We now live credit card free, so we must have the money up front for everything we need. It’s a hard lifestyle when you are on a budget, especially after using credit for everything under the sun like we used to do. Sometimes we have to get creative, but so far we’ve made it work and I’m pretty proud of that.

Except it leaves very little for gifts. So we had to tell our families that gifts will be small. They understood, of course, but we still feel bad. I’ve shopped sales, something I’m really good at anyway, and have managed to find something for everyone. And we are making homemade candy to supplement our paltry offerings.

It’s not about how much you spend. It’s the thought that counts. Remember the real reason for the season.

That’s what I keep telling myself. And I’ve been quite proud of us, actually. Everyone will get something nice and it will be a heartfelt gift.

But then I talk to other people and hear about all the things they’ve bought over the weekend for their relatives. A laptop, a wool coat, a flat screen tv, an iPad 2...

And I start to feel like an asshole.

My stupid little gifts…a scarf, some lotion, a book…are now super lame and sad. They scream “Merry Christmas. We can’t afford to buy you anything awesome.” And now I want to call everyone and beg them to please please please not buy us anything expensive. Not because I don’t think they can afford it, but because it will make me feel bad when I open their gifts. I don’t want anyone to spend $100 on me when I can only spend $10 on them.

But it’s hard to tell your family that. Especially when you know they’ll just say “Oh, don’t worry! It makes me feel good to buy you things!”. And there’s just no Christmas-y way to say “Well it makes me feel like shit when you do.”

We’re tired of being “those relatives”. The ones that everyone knows are broke and can’t go on trips and can’t go out to eat every weekend and can’t buy the things they really want to give their family at Christmas. Not that it really matters. Because what’s most important is that our family is healthy and happy and blah blah blah.

Whatever. Maybe next year we will get rich and buy everyone an iPad3 and a 3D tv and then we can be all “Jesus is the reason for the season, but who cares because I’m totally wearing 3D glasses!”.

Jogging Limply Towards A Destiny Vaguely Involving Something To Do With Smaller Clothing Maybe

So I’m trying to do this running thing with Captain Carl. It’s going so-so. It really depends what day you ask me, actually. Because ask me today, when Captain Carl is running with his brother and therefore not with me, and I will say it’s going awesome. Ask me on Monday night when I go running with him in the dark after work and I will say it sucks donkey teat. Because ouchy, that’s why.

Captain Carl is excelling at the running. He’s running 3 minute stretches straight now and leaving me in the dust. Literally. I am literally running in the dust on the side of the road about a block and a half behind him. And I’m not really running. I’m more jogging slowly than anything. And my jog gives me a vague resemblance to a wounded animal, limping to the curb after being hit by a car. A wounded animal chanting "fuck. this. shit." with each step it takes. But I like to think that I look like I know what I’m doing, on account of how I pump my arms back and forth vigorously. My feet are barely moving, but my arms are like violent tornadoes churning madly across the country. Check it out, everybody! It took me 30 seconds to get from one side of your driveway to the other, but look how fast I appear to be moving from the waist up! Crazy arms crazy arms crazy arms!

Meh.

And then there is the issue with my knees. Apparently I have old lady creaky knees. I had no idea until the running started. Now I wake up a dozen times in the night after I turn onto my stomach and my knees push into the mattress, causing searing pain to shoot through them. They crunch like gravel with every step I take up the stairs. And then Captain Carl is all “You should take a joint supplement.” and I’m all “Your mom takes a joint supplement!” and he’s all “I’m serious.” and I’m all “So am I. She really does take one.” and he’s all “So?” and I’m all “She’s 60.” and he’s all “Well maybe you should borrow her AARP magazine to see if they have any tips for you.” and then I punch him in the face.

But I am losing some weight. And apparently it’s starting to show, because the runner lady at my office who I find equal parts inspiring and annoying with all her Go-for-it!'s and Keep-it-up!'s and I-wouldn't-eat-that-if-I-were-you!'s told me yesterday she could see the weight loss in my clothes. Hurrah! I’m awesome! *air punch!*

Also, I've been posting on facebook about my adventures in running and weight loss. Which seemed like a good idea at the time because now I will totally keep up with this new lifestyle on account of all my facebook friends knowing about it. Except that what if I don't? And then when people are all "How's the running going?" on my wall, I'll have to block them so that I don't have to make up excuses for quitting, like maybe I went all Jehovah's Witness and it's taking up all my time with all the ummmm, witnessing?

But hey...right now I'm down 6 lbs, bitches! So I totally put that little fact on my wall.

And then I had Mexican food for dinner last night. And also a donut that morning. And also birthday cake in the afternoon. And also maybe a candy bar.

I didn’t put that part on facebook.

Happy Needlestick To Me...Updated To Include A Smoking Unicorn!

Today is my 36th birthday.

I'm celebrating by having my blood drawn this morning. True story. My life is one big never ending party.

UPDATE: Tristachio made me an awesome birthday card. I would say it's the best birthday card I've ever received except that Captain Carl just gave me one about how much he loves me and blah blah blah and I don't want to hurt his feelings. Anyway, so today she's my absolutely favoritist blogger on the planet. Until Steamy or Vic makes me a better one.

Who am I kidding? No way could I get a better birthday card. A smoking unicorn AND a monkey??? Awesome.

Ummm...is it just me or does that card remind anyone else of the Guantanamo Bay scandal pictures? No?? Just me then?

Yes, I'm Still Alive And Sexy As Ever. Thanks For Asking.

I suck at blogging. And at dieting. Because I haven't been here in almost a week and still can't think of anything awesome to blog about. And because it's been 3 weeks and I haven't lost a single pound.

Failure, thy name is Miss Yvonne.

Also? Suck it Chick fil A. You and your delicious chicken sandwiches can go to hell. And take that "limited time only" peppermint chocolate chip shake with you. You asshole.

Also? I just read on a fashion blog today that those shrug sweaters with ties in the front are ridiculously outdated. Guess what I'm wearing today after finding it at the back of my closet and getting all clappy and jumpy because I forgot I had it and look how cute it still is? Damn it.

Also? In 3 weeks I'm going to NOLA for 4 days and just realized I have to share a suitcase with Captain Carl because we don't want to pay for two checked bags and there is no way I can take 4 pairs of shoes and 5 pairs of pants and 8 shirts if I have to make room for his shit too. Screw you, budget.

Also? I have to find some holiday spirit somewhere. Anyone have some extra they can email me or something? Because I have zero. We're putting the tree up this weekend and all I can do when I think about it is sigh heavily. Deck the halls with boughs of blah blah.

Also? It's December 1. The mortgage is due today.

Also? Marian is moving out in 15 days and we have to find a new renter.

Also? My kid lost his winter coat and needs a haircut and isn't studying for the ACT and is probably right this very minute skipping class to have sex with his girlfriend.

Also? Captain Carl bought me flowers yesterday. Just because.

hmmmm...

Life is pretty good, now that I think about it.

You Know It's Gonna Be An Awesome Day When....

• You walk out of your bedroom in the morning and your cat pukes at your feet. Multiple times.
• It's been raining for five days straight and your hair makes you look like you're an orphan living a hard-knock life. every. single. day.
• You find a pair of adorable red sandals you forgot you had and you just happen to be wearing a white and red outfit and just painted your toenails red, but don't remember why you never wear the sandals. Until you get to work and develop three blisters on the walk from the elevator to your desk.
• You check your kid's grades and find out he has seven zeroes. And it's only been three weeks.
• You are late to work on purpose because you know 6:30am is the only time you have available to write a blog entry. And it ends up being a crappy one about all the things you'd like to bitch about to your husband, who is still sleeping.
• You cram two mini bagels into the toaster at one time because you don't have time to toast them separately, thanks to writing the crappy blog entry, and they get stuck and burn. You eat them anyway.
  

I'm Still Sick So Don't Expect Anything Witty From Me, Okay?

My throat is on fire, y'all. And my left lymph node is all hurty and swollen and I keep pushing on it trying to get it to stop being so sticky outy. And I'm pretty sure I had a fever today because I've been sweating off and on for no reason. I mean, fat girls do that on a normal day...but it was worse than usual. Plus my eyes are still itchy and my eyelids are swollen for some reason so I look like my face is trying to eat my eyes.

The Kiddo had an academic achievement award ceremony tonight (snore) and because I'm the best stepmom on the fucking planet, I got out of my sick pajamas, put on a bra and outside clothes and sat in a gymnasium for 2 hours to watch my kid's five seconds of recognition. I spent the rest of the 2 hours making fun of the other teenagers as they walked across the floor to get their awards. I kept whispering things to Captain Carl like "I've seen at least ten Billy Dee Williams moustaches so far" and "Since when is it okay for 16 year old girls to wear tube tops to school functions?" and "Look at that kid...I've seen better heads on boils!". Yeah, I'm pretty proud of myself.

So I got my own award from miss. chief yesterday. It's not an academic achievement award, it's way better. So thanks miss. chief for recognizing how wonderful I am! It's about time someone did, damn it.


I'm passing this award on to Tracey at Green-Eyed Momster because she is just plain wonderful and she deserves it, yo. So "jugs" to you, Tracey!

Peace out nerds....

Do You Wanna Be On Top?

Here's my weekend alone in a nutshell. hee hee, I said nut.

Friday night:

• Eat frozen pizza while watching basketball game.
• Eat chocolate while watching basketball game.
• Start a load of laundry.
• Eat Twizzlers while watching basketball game.
• Forget about laundry.

Saturday:

• Sleep in.
• Go shopping for cheap clothes.
• Go to sister's house and help her strip wallpaper in her bathroom.
• Forget to drink any water during the five hours spent stripping (that's what she said).
• Get dizzy from lack of water intake and wallpaper remover fumes.
• Rock out to 80's music on the drive home.

Sunday:

• Sleep in.
• Touch up gray roots.
• Shave legs in preparation for husband's return tonight. Bow chica wow wow.
• Eat leftover pizza.
• Drink five Diet Cokes.
• Watch a zillion hours of America's Next Top Model on the Oxygen channel.
• Go for a walk.
• Eat ice cream and totally negate weight loss achieved on walk.
• Watch a trajillion more hours of ANTM.
• Sing ANTM theme song over and over (Do you wanna be on top? Hells yeah I do, Tyra).

That's about it. What? Oh right, like whatever you did was any better.

Thanks For Nothing Alarm Clock, You Big Jerk

I've always wanted one of those nature sound alarm clocks. You know, the kind that plays peaceful sounds like waves crashing and birds singing and babbling brooks and kittens licking puppies and shit like that. I just knew that once I had one I would go to bed earlier every night and set my kick ass nature sound alarm clock timer to play a rain storm for 30 minutes and I would fall asleep easily and dream of peaceful nature-y things.

I've wanted this thing for at least 5 years. And no, Mr. or Mrs. Smarty Pants, I don't know why I didn't just buy myself one, okay? Leave me alone and let me tell my story, dammit!

ahem

Finally last Christmas someone in Captain Carl's family actually bought me something off my "Top 10 Best Christmas Gifts for Miss Yvonne" list that I pass out annually. I never get anything off that list and no Captain Carl, it's not because no one has ever actually asked me for a list and no Mom, it's not because everyone thinks I'm a rude missy-miss with no manners for sending it out every year. It's because most everything I put on there is so magical and wonderful, they can't believe they actually exist and so they don't even bother trying to find them. But listen jerks, unicorn bed pillows made out of spun sugar and moon beams DO exist and have you ever heard of Amazon? Because that place is crammed full of everything you could ever want and if you'd only take the time to look you'd know I'm not, as you say, "bat-shit crazy" and "ridonkulous" and FYI ridonkulous isn't even that funny of a word so stop being all laughy and proud of yourself for saying it.

Anyway....Captain Carl's cousin got me the nature sounds alarm clock last Christmas and I was happy. The thing has five nature sounds (five!) and this thing that projects the time onto the ceiling (projects!) and you can have your alarm sound be the standard beep, the radio or one of the five nature sounds (fuck yeah!). Oh let me tell you, I was ecstatic.

The very next day I crawled into bed, turned on the thunderstorm sound and snuggled under the covers. And then Captain Carl walked in and was all "Why are you in bed? It's 1:30 in the afternoon" and I was all "Shut it, I'm listening to a thunderstorm on my alarm clock" and he was all "Are you sure the sound isn't coming from outside?" and I was all "I know, right! It's so realistic!" and he was all "No, I'm pretty sure it's coming from outside because it's totally storming and your alarm clock isn't even plugged in" and then I was all "Thanks a lot, dream crusher".

So I was happy for about a nanosecond with my nature sounds alarm clock. There it sat on my bedside table, promising to be all nature-y and soundy and it hardly ever was either of those things. I never took the time to go to bed early just to listen to crickets chirping on it. And the time projector thing? Yeah, it was just a blob of light on my ceiling and you couldn't read it. The backlight was so bright, we could use it to make animal shapes with our hands on the wall. And the ocean wave sound really just sounded like someone going "FWOOSHHHH" too close to a microphone. And then the thing betrayed me in the worst possible way. The alarm stopped going off in the mornings. Three times last week I was significantly late for work because of that bitch.

And so on Sunday, I had to drag out my old boring no-nature sounds alarm clock and plug it in. And I woke up about 10 times that night freaking out, because I was sure it's feelings were way hurt that I had replaced it and it would refuse to alarm me at 5:30am just out of spite. But it did work and now I know the nature sound alarm clock was a bad idea but it also taught me a valuable lesson and that lesson is this: By tattling on your friends, you're really just tattling on yourself and by tattling on your friends, you're just telling them that you're a tattle tale and is that the tale you really want to tell?

Wait, I don't think that's right. I think that was a Mike Brady-ism.

Meh, whatever.

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.

My Milkshake Thinks I'm Special

I'm Fixin' To Blow Up, Y'all

Holy shit.

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.

Already with the Holiday Crap? Plus A Haircut Happened.

My neighbor has his Christmas lights up already. Suck it, neighbor dude.

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.