Quiet moments

Rocking on my back porch, glass of cabernet on the table beside me

Snuggling on the sofa in my Slanket, perhaps with the addition of a stripy purring Rusty

Wrapped securely in Joe's arms, his steady breathing lulling me to sleep

Laying on the beach, the sun warm on my body (and properly covered in something SPF 5000), the waves gently rolling in while the breeze blows

Cuddled on the bed with Tonya for a rare moment of petting and death rattling purring

Drinking my Sunday morning coffee, catching up on blogs while Joe reads the paper across the table, no words necessary

Curled up in the papasan with a book

Those are some of my favorite quiet moments. What are yours?

Losing my mind... and my spatulas

A mystery is afoot. In order to paint the kitchen, I had to completely clear the counters. Also, I've decided about 90% of that stuff is not going back. Too cluttered.

One thing that definitely won't be going back at this point is my crock of spatulas. Mostly because I can't find it. Anywhere. The knife block that always sits next to the crock is on the dining room table but the crock itself is nowhere. I've checked the dining room, all the kitchen cabinets, the storage cabinet in the garage. Where else could it possibly be? It's not like I would've taken it upstairs or out of the house.

At this point, I'm trying not to think about it. I refuse to go insane over this. Like the time with the chicken nuggets. What's that? I haven't shared about the time a malevolent spirit stole my chicken nuggets?

Once upon a time, there was a scary movie in the theatres. Blair Witch Project. I was fascinated by the effort the creators put into formulating an in-depth backstory to up the "creepy" factor. All of which I shared with Joe but without mentioning it was made up. This served to create a sufficiently scary movie-going experience. I wanted him to be scared (I wanted me to be scared) and he was. Awesome.

On the way home, we hit the drive-thru at Wendys and I ordered my usual. Junior bacon cheeseburger, chicken nuggets, and a small Frosty. Joe ordered whatever it was he ordered. I checked the order, ate a piping hot chicken nugget and we drove home. Unpacking the bag when we got home? No chicken nuggets.

I double-checked the bag. The counter. The kitchen. The car. Joe insisted they must've forgotten to give them to us. Even though my tongue was still burnt from eating one.

Already a bit on edge from the movie, we managed to work ourselves into quite the frenzy over these chicken nuggets. Had some mysterious ghost stolen my nuggets? I gave up my search once I caught myself checking the shower. Because that's just ridiculous.

So I'm going to just forget about the crock of spatulas. It will turn up. And I will not be looking for it in the shower. I may, however, check under the bed to see if I can find my sanity. It's obviously wandered off somewhere again. Maybe it's with the chicken nuggets - we never found those either.

P.S. 05/01/09 - The spatulas have been found. Tonya hid them in the kitchen storage cabinet in the garage. Yes, the one I had already checked. She must've been moving them from place to place.

Assistance please?

The calendar is rapidly dwindling and heading towards family vacation time. And I'm rapidly moving into a place of denial. Best way to avoid anxiety? Pretend the situation doesn't exist. Which is a brilliant strategy until you're forced to pull your head out of that hole in the ground and it hits you all at once.

We're just over a month away - which means it's time to make the final payment on the rental. This also means it's time for the awkwardness of "your sister shouldn't have to pay as much because they're sleeping in a room with a double & twin instead of a room with a queen bed but really she just can't afford it and we'd rather not word it that way because she DID just manage to afford a Wii and that will make you angry". Oh, how I love being in charge of the arrangements...

It also means it's time to go see the doctor and make sure my prescription for crack Lexapro is all set. My current prescription runs out a week before the trip. Can you imagine withdrawal and NOT being on my pills while living with my family for a week? (I also need to order my blogging t-shirt)

Here's the part where I'm going to ask bloggyland for some assistance. Four couples (plus a one year old) living together for one week. We all have wildly different tastes when it comes to food - most of my family would be content to live on bologna sandwiches all week, my brother's an insanely picky eater, and Joe & I are the only mostly-healthy eaters plus I refuse to eat spam. (Seriously, nothing my dad loves more than a spam sandwich.) Add to that the whole "Tina's too broke to even afford her share of the rental" and I'm wondering how we're going to handle the food situation that week.

It doesn't make sense to me that we would all buy our own groceries and prepare four separate meals three times a day. At the same time, I'm not sure it makes sense to go on one massive shopping trip and just split the bill four ways (plus, again, I'm sure my parents will guilt trip us that Tina can't afford it). So I'm looking for suggestions on how you'd handle the food situation. One idea I had come up with was that each couple would be responsible for dinner one night - whatever they choose. Joe wants to buy everyone lobster and my sister wants to serve everyone cereal, that's fine.

Any ideas? We've never done the family vacation thing before and I just have no idea how to approach it so it's semi-fair and not a total pain in the neck.

I also realize it's entirely possible that I'm over-thinking things, as I tend to do. If that's the case, please tell me! I'll try to resist the urge to punch you in the face.

Dream big (or tall)

This one goes out to all my vertically-challenged pals. Stand up and be counted! C'mon, stand up! Oh, wait, you already ARE standing up? Yeah, me too. :(

Lately, I'm feeling exceptionally short. And the truth is, I'm not that short. 5'4" maybe? That's not as lengthy as average but I'm well aware there are women plagued with much less distance between forehead and feet. My mother's so puny (length, not width) I tend to lose her on purpose when we go shopping together because you can't see her over the racks.

I can't help but think life would be nicer at times if I could acquire another three or four inches.

Recent kitchen painting project? Joe can reach into those far corners - because generally with height you also gain proportionately longer arms.

Ability to reach my liquor cabinet over the fridge without a chair? (Yeah, yeah, shut up or I'm going to punch you in the face.) If I could reach just TWO MORE INCHES I could grasp the bourbon without Joe snickering at me. Though, I should definitely get points for determination!

Most recently I was reminded of my lack of tall-skills at the concert we attended this weekend. It was in one of those concert hall venues that don't believe in seats so they can pack more people in. And if there's one thing I just adore, it's having people right in my personal space. Especially tall people. In front of me. Joe did his best to help find a spot where I could see but it was hard. Every time I'd find a window, the person in front of me would start dancing and all hope was lost.

So today, I'm wishing for a bit more elevation. Doesn't hurt that it would help offset a couple of extra pounds. I realize being tall has its drawbacks as well but I'd really like to give it a try just for awhile so I can make a truly informed decision.

Day of Rest

Writing this Saturday around 1:30pm for Sunday posting. Forgive my tense-shiftiness. And my brilliance for accidentally publishing it instead of scheduling it.

Know how long it took me to finish the first coat of paint in the kitchen? TOO long. And the coverage, not so great. Oh well, I fully planned on at least two coats.

But before the second coat, I'm rewarding all this hard work by going away for the night, catching a concert, sleeping in, and hitting IKEA before we head home. A quick break and some time with Joe. Yay!

All of which means at this point I haven't clicked on a single Six Word Saturday entry. Which is killing me.

So I'm off to shower and pack and be gone. I'll try to catch up in spurts but I'm blogging without obligation this weekend - including reading and commenting.

Hope you're all enjoying the beautiful weekend!

Six Word Saturday

Simple concept: describe your life (or something) in just six words. For more information, try clicking here.

Always waiting for the other shoe

Please share your six words either in the comments or on your blog - be sure to use Mr. Linky below so we can all visit! And here's the code to link back with the shiny button if you like:

<a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" /></a>

Discipline and brain barf

Remember the other day when I talked about that whole blogging with discipline thing? "Regular writing, occasional brilliance" and then I talked about some days the brilliance doesn't happen and I just puke up a post?

Well, I'm about to brain barf all over my blog. Sorry!

I'm in one of those funks where all I can think about are the heavy things weighing on my mind and while I don't want to blog about them, I also can't quite seem to move past them to something lighter.

I am, however, having a fabulous cleavage day. Unfortunately, it may also be an inappropriate-for-work cleavage day. Oops! And yes, they're real.

Last night, I was drunk-dialed by my boss. Who then asked me to babysit my coworkers today because he's out and apparently there was some misbehavior yesterday. Really, thanks for putting me in the middle of it! Boy would I love to say more about that situation but I don't quite dare.

Why is it I seem to think I function best when I have far too much going on? We're hosting a concert at our house on May 6th - and on a whim I decided to rip down the wallpaper in our kitchen. All the cool kids were doing it and it seemed like a good idea at the time so I jumped on that bandwagon. Only, now I need to somehow get two coats of paint up in the next (less than) two weeks and we'll be away this weekend. Brilliant plan!

Well, blogging muse, I did my part. I blogged with discipline. I let my fingers tappity tap tap. You did not choose to reward me (or my unfortunate readers) with brilliance today. Better luck next time.

The Day After Earth Day

Before yesterday's Earth Day Extravaganza, I felt like Joe and I were making a massive effort to be green. But then I read all of your posts and realized there are so many more things we can and should be doing.

At Sassy Britches post, I realized I should give more thought to disposing of medications. Wish I'd thought of that before I cleaned the hall closet. She also mentioned dryer balls, which I was not familiar with.

Hyacinth's post reminded me that we should be trying to run appliances at off-peak energy hours. We always wait until the dishwasher is full but then we tend to run it immediately.

I really appreciate Lora's willingness to speak up. Not only did she check to see that her fastfood container was recyclable but she then followed up by asking the restaurant why they didn't also provide a bin. Excellent point!

It's Frugal Being Green is an entire blog dedicated to greenness. I can't wait to dig around there and am so glad to be aware of the site.

I'm very fortunate to live in an area that offers extensive curbside recycling. We don't have to sort and they take a wide variety of items - plastics, glass, paper, even small chunks of cardboard. And we live within five miles of a major recycling center where you can take large cardboard, phone books, etc. We also have a hazardous waste center not too far away that will take lightbulbs, paints and about a million other things.

I mentioned yesterday that I was going to start working on our household cleaners and some of you provided great information. As I use things up, I'm going to replace them with safer alternatives. Two other things that I've decided after yesterday is that I'm going to ditch my daily can of soda at lunch - it's bad for my reflux and even though I recycle the cans, aluminum is a very unfriendly material. And I also need to work on ditching the paper towels - I use them conservatively (while Joe will use half a roll to mop up a small spill) but we have plenty of rags that can be used instead.

Something else that I think is worth mentioning is that while it's awesome to recycle, that's only part of the solution. We should also be cutting down on what we're taking in. Joe almost always puts two full recycling bins at the curb each week and I feel good about that - until I wonder if maybe we shouldn't be consuming that much stuff to begin with (this is what started me thinking about my aluminum cans). Also, we should make an effort to buy products made from recycled materials. When we bought file folders a month or so ago, it was a little more expensive to buy the ones made of recycled paper. But if there's more demand for these products the price will come down. And if there's no demand for these products, they won't be produced which will dry up the market for purchasing the recycled materials from the places that collect them. Nasty cycle.

Hope this post didn't come across as preachy though I suppose if there's one thing I'm willing to be a little "nutty" over, this isn't a bad topic. I really enjoyed all of your posts yesterday and thank you for participating.

And so now, finally, it's time to announce the winner. Here's our random.org results:

Congratulations to Tori! I love that she won because her post really makes an important point. Earth Day should be every day. And every little bit we can do counts. That's really what it's all about.

P.S. Tori - I can't email you through your profile so drop me an email at showmyface@gmail.com when you're ready to claim your prize.

Earth Day Posting Extravaganza

Today is Earth Day. That special day set aside for planting trees, picking up litter, and generally thinking about the well-being of this here planet we currently call home. Also, a little link-up and giveaway hosted by yours truly.

Being Earth-friendly is something that wasn't a priority in my home until just over a year ago. That's when Joe suddenly became environmentally aware from several sources all at once. And now he's all about being green - from driving a hybrid to switching our lightbulbs to carrying reusable bags, we've made a lot of changes in the past year or so.

One area that we haven't explored much in our home is environmentally-friendly cleaners. This has been on my mind lately as I've been tackling some projects around the house. A quick search turned up instructions for how to make a non-toxic cleaning kit as well as many companies that manufacture green cleaning supplies. I'm pretty lazy but I think I can handle mixing up my own cleaners considering the benefits.

I think I'll make this my next foray into the world of green - unless one of you has a better idea!

Participation in the posting extravaganza is simple (and updated from my original announcement). I felt bad about limiting this to "the Continental US" because, well, it's Earth Day. Not Continental US Day. Limiting to just those in the lower 48 negates the entire purpose of Earth Day considering we all live on the same planet (except maybe those of you in Russia - there's something weird going on over there).

Here are the new guidelines:

1. Write a post on your blog about a way that you support a clean environment.
2. Include a link back to this site in that post.
3. Add a link to your site in Mr. Linky below.

That's it. To be eligible for the prize, your link must be entered into Mr. Linky by 11pm (EDT) tonight. I will verify links throughout the day to make sure the simple rules are followed and reserve the right to remove links if necessary. Tomorrow, I'll let random.org draw a winner from the Mr. Linky participants. 

Oh, the new prize? It's not much but I felt I should offer something. So if random.org shows you some love, I'm offering to create a button for your blog (or a header image or a signature, one of whatever you like). In addition, I'll include linkage to your blog in my sidebar for two weeks. Yeah, this place isn't super high traffic but it's something. Best of all, it doesn't create any waste and has a non-existent carbon footprint!

Including the button isn't required but it's there if you'd like to use it.

<a href="http://www.showmyface.com/"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/posts/earthdayButton.jpg" /></a>

Not usually a fan of discipline

About ten days ago, after a dry spell, I had so many ideas for posts that I could barely contain myself. I wrote, I scheduled, I tweaked, I edited and I was in blog-topic heaven.

And then there's this week. Tomorrow is Earth Day so that's already planned (with some revised participation info that is less exclusive). But I had nothing for yesterday, nothing for today, nothing beyond tomorrow.

Sometimes that's nice. Yesterday morning, Joe inadvertently provided me with a post. It's so lovely when life cooperates that way! Unfortunately, my mind doesn't always see such clear connections between situations and blog fodder.

Earlier this month, I had a day when I just didn't feel like posting. That's rare for me - usually I want to post, I just struggle with topics. You shared some great ideas about Blogging Without Obligation (BWO). Which is lovely and I agree in principle. This blog is meant to be an outlet, not an obligation. Yet it doesn't quite fit with my own writing philosophy.

I have a compulsive need to post every day. And of course I want to post something decent. If I give myself a day off under the idea of BWO, it's not going to be long before that turns into two days, a week, then bye-bye blog. I've known me long enough to know how I work.

This weekend, C. Beth posted about her approach to blogging and writing. She calls it Blogging With Discipline. Every day, she sits and writes, leaving herself available and open to inspiration. I don't know why this was such an "aha" to me - every article about writing that I've ever read encourages you to write regularly, even if it's unfocused, just to stay in the habit.

I love her tagline - regular writing, occasional brilliance. Sometimes I think I do stumble upon good stuff. And sometimes, there is no brilliance - I like to refer to this as "puking up a post". It might not be pretty but there it is!

Please read her post - she does a much better job of explaining it than I do. Then after you read it, picture a P.S. from your pal Cate that says "Yeah, what she said!!!". This also happens to be in good keeping with her other blog - The One Minute Writer.

So, while I appreciate the idea of blogging without obligation, I'm going to throw into C. Beth's blogging with discipline club. It's more in harmony with how I need to work. Plus, I heard there might be cool jackets.

Buddy can't be trusted

After a long, busy weekend, we crawled into bed sometime shortly after midnight. Monday morning always comes too soon but especially when Sunday night is so late and Joe has to wake up at 5am to catch a flight.

All of which resulted in the following text message exchange:

Joe: @ the gate, u up?
me: am up, fly safe
Joe: k stay safe from buddy <3

Yes, stay safe from Buddy. Wait, who is Buddy? Whose buddy? Should I know who Buddy is? Why do I need to stay safe from him?

This sets me off on a muddled line of thinking as I try to wake up. Oh no, Joe's already on his flight, he's totally going to crash and die and I'll never know who Buddy is. But now I'll spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, scared to death of some dude named Buddy who totally wants to do me harm!

Once Joe's flight landed safely, I was able to get some clarification.

me: who's "buddy"?
Joe: ?
me: it was in response to me saying i was awake
"K stay safe from buddy <3"
Joe: bizarre
me: well now i don't feel so bad for not knowing.
Joe: I see it but don't remember typing that
only <3
oh, wait - was supposed to be puddy
auto correct

Mystery solved. Damn auto-correct. He was just making a funny about the evil cats residing in the house and I'm running around afraid of guys named Buddy.

So I'm totally running amok the next couple of days! Party at my place tonight for anyone that can find me has access to unlimited pinot noir wants to help clean my kitchen. Don't everyone rush over at once!

Nothing to say

No new post today. If you're interested, you could check out my post about Friday's dinner over on my other blog, FeastMyFace.

Otherwise, I'll see you lovelies back here tomorrow. Enjoy what's left of your weekend!

Six Word Saturday

Simple concept: describe your life (or something) in just six words. For more information, try clicking here.

So much wrong inside my head

Please share your six words either in the comments or on your blog - be sure to use Mr. Linky below so we can all visit! And here's the code to link back with the shiny button if you like:

<a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" /></a>

Let's talk about sex

Brief disclaimer - no walrussians and I'm too lazy to link (it's in the text at the head of the page) but I'm finally off my antibiotics so I can drink. And my head is better so I can drink. And after 10 days or so with NO drinks, it doesn't take much vodka to make me feel very willing to share.

The summer a year before Joe and I were married (1997), I was damn determined not to go home. My folks weren't the type that were accepting of "boomerang" children. Or even "summer vacation" children. In fact, their exact words when I left for college were "take it with you when you go, don't expect it to be here when you get back". Ok, cue the warm and fuzzy!

So, that first summer, I was offered a position at my student aide office helping out with their summer programs. In return, they offered free room and grocery reimbursement. Plus, a pathetic hourly wage. Yes please! This also would allow Joe to unofficially reside with me in order to continue his off-campus employment. Win win!

I'll spare the details of that summer, though they're quite fun. They include lying bosses, unbelievable BS work requirements, haunted dorm rooms, no grocery reimbursement and a lack of air conditioning. However, they also include a lovely summer visit from my family.

Unfortunately, I kinda forgot to tell the family that Joe was living in my dorm room. This despite the fact that I had basically told them not to bother calling me at MY dorm room the entire previous year because they wouldn't reach me there - call me at Joe's number! See, my parents like to ignore the elephant in the room unless you yell "OMG THERE'S AN ELEPHANT!". And it steps on them. And poos on their carpet.

So that summer, they said they were coming on a specific weekend. Joe and I spent the week leading up to that visit trying to rid my room of any traces of his existence. His clothes, his books, his laptop, everything put away. Keep in mind, they never ASKED where he was living that summer, yet he know he was "up there" (since we went to school north of home).

You might imagine how awkward the situation was when my father took me aside and we had the following conversation:

Dad: So... are you and Joe living together?
Me: Umm, yeah. It didn't make sense for him to pay $500/mo in rent.
Dad: And are the two of you having sex?
Me: No. We're not.
Dad: I'm not an idiot. I don't approve and I'm disappointed in your choice. You know what I think about that.
Me: I said we're not but if you don't want to believe me and that's what you want to think, go for it.

Fast forward to a year later, a week before our wedding day:

Mom: Maybe it's time we had a talk about sex.
Me: Dad accused us a year ago, what's there to talk about?
Mom: Well, if you have any questions or there's anything you'd like me to explain.
Me: No thanks.

Seriously, a year ago, you're accusing us of getting it on. And now a week before the wedding you want to explain it to me? Maybe I should take the time to fill you all in on the fact that Joe and I did get married young. I was 20. The freaks my mother hired to deal with the kitchen at my reception refused to pour me wine cooler kinda stuff for the toast because I was underage and alcohol is from the devil. Also, because my mother was/is such an intolerable human being I lived with my grandmother the summer before the wedding - and had been on birth control for 2 months at that point.

And while Joe and I weren't the innocent young things, we were both technically still virgins on our wedding night. And actually beyond - because we didn't get to our hotel the night of our wedding until 5am the next morning.

Anyways, really, my mother, who had always made it a point to tell me the evils of sex and terrify me about it to the point that I *still* have some issues to this day, really wanted to sit down a week before my wedding to tell me about the birds and the bees. This after my father accused me of being active a year before.

And why, you may ask, did he question me about our co-habitation and nookie? I wasn't sure. In fact, the conversation floored me. Until I returned to my room that evening... And noticed a pair of Joe's underwear peeking out from under the corner of my bed. I'm sure it's the first - and only - thing my father noticed when he entered my room. And it stayed on his mind through lunch, through the afternoon at the aquarium, and until he could corner me alone.

I don't know if I have a point. But Sassy Britches tweeted about having "a" sex talk with her mother (vs "THE" sex talk) last week and it reminded me of my own sex talk. And I felt like sharing. Aren't you glad?

P.S. Reading this back now, I'm not exactly sure what I was thinking when I wrote it last night. I fixed a couple of obvious mistakes but I might as well leave it as is. You'll all still love me, right?

Booty shots

Before we get to today's post, I wanted to thank everyone who traveled around on the blog swap yesterday. Sorry I didn't reply like I usually would - read on to find out why.

Today's post brought to you by the letters W-A-H and sponsored by walrussians. (Blognut and I had a long discussion about the plural of "walrus" and we're pretty sure "walrussians" is it.)

Sometimes the masses (ok, all 12 of you) are entertained by my migraine mumbles both here on the blog and on Twitter. It's true - I mess up words and I get silly. Even more so once I start on the pain meds. But in the end, there is pain. Pain I'd rather not experience. Pain I'd rather try to make light of because if I focus on it, I become insanely frustrated which just makes it worse.

This post is about the other side of my migraines. The pain. I spent several hours on Wednesday at the doctor's office. This particular migraine started Monday morning and it waxed and waned for several days. My new rule is that after two days, it's not going to vanish through any means I have available. When I woke up in worse pain than when I went to bed last night, I knew it was time to call for help.

Lucky for me, Joe was able to rearrange his schedule to work from home and drive me to the doctor. Long story short, the nurse evaluated me (my regular doc wasn't in) and ordered me a shot of Toradol (anti-inflammatory and anti-pain) followed by a shot of Imitrex (a migraine-specific med). They're both "fun" drugs in that they burn like crazy when injected. The Toradol went in the booty and she gave me the Imitrex in the upper arm near the shoulder. The first shot brought some relief, the second brought almost instant relief.

On the positive side, these took care of the migraine. I've had times when I've also had to receive anti-nausea injections and even morphine. Yeah, wimpy in the scheme of things.

Three hours later, I was back home to rest. She also gave me prescriptions for my allergies because those are certainly aggravating my migraine. Too much sinus action is keeping the pressure in my head in a bad way.

So not a warm fuzzy post today. But I sort of felt it was necessary to address the "other side" of my migraines. Otherwise, they might look like fun. Trust me, they're not. Not at all.

The Lobster Incident

Today, our second installment of Blog-Swap-O-Rama. Mo "Mad Dog" Stoneskin is in the hizzouse, blognut is at his place, and I'm terrorizing entertaining the troops over at blognut's. At least, I think that's right. Please make the rounds as we each tell you our recollection of The Lobster Incident.

I arrived at the restaurant early. I expected Blognut and Cate to be late and wanted to make sure our table was booked. Some half-wit had double-booked our table. "I can't believe you have let this happen," I scolded the manager, "we're famous writers, not farmhands!" I fumed, stuffing my hands into my dungaree pockets and chewing furiously on a piece of straw.

Blognut arrived dragging a crate of Diet Pepsi. "Can't trust anyone these days," she explained, shaking her head ruefully. The manager was not impressed. "You can't bring that in here," he said. "There's nothing saying that in writing," Blognut retorted, "and besides, what kind of restaurant does not provide Diet Pepsi as a soft drink option?"

Cate arrived a few minutes later with her cat riding in her purse. I forget its name, Tabitha, Tootles, Tulip, Tumbleweed, Tonya that's it, Tonya looked a little cramped. "What's that doing in here?" growled the manager. "That is Tonya," grumbled Cate, "and she has every right to be here. In the name of common decency and equality why should humans be allowed in a restaurant but animals banned? And besides, the sign on the door makes no mention of cats, it just says "No dogs except for blind dogs". I pointed out that a blind dog wouldn't be able to read the sign anyway but nobody was amused.

The sound of scratching echoed round the restaurant. Tonya was attacking a microphone on the stage. "Get that cat off the microphone," roared the manager. Apart from a few violent altercations with an elderly gentleman's beard Tonya behaved herself for the remaining ten minutes that we were in the restaurant.

"What shall we get to drink?" I asked the girls. "Whatever is cheap," said Cate. "Anything under five dollars" expounded Blognut. "Treat's on me," I said generously, "pass me the wine list."

We decided to share a seafood platter which featured a huge lobster. The waiter that brought it lost his balance. A one-legged mouse suffering from severe vertigo would have done a better job. We were buried under an avalanche of lobster, oysters, wine and Diet Pepsi. "My Pepsi!" screamed Blognut. "Tonya!" screamed Cate. "Get off my beard!" screamed the elderly gentleman.

Cate and Blognut each ripped off a lobster claw and attacked the waiter in a brutal display of customised-by-lobster-claw kung-fu. I grabbed the rest of the lobster and took decisive action against the manager. The elderly gentleman was rolling about on the floor grappling with Tonya.

We made a swift exit and leaped into a cab. "Where now?" I asked. "Starbucks?" suggested Blognut. "Tonya wants to go home," said Cate.

Announcing Earth Day 2009: Updated

Update: Because I don't feel like rewriting this entire post, I will post the official "rules" as such on April 22nd. But the highlights are that there will still be a giveaway but it will not require a mailing address, therefore opening it to everyone for participation.

In honor of Earth Day on April 22nd, I thought I'd attempt to organize a bit of a blog tour. This will also be my first ever giveaway! Please be patient with me and we'll hope I don't screw it up.

I'm going to keep things as simple as possible because, well, I find a lot of contests to be very confusing. One entry for tweeting, one for posting, one for following, one for each comment that references your name. I appreciate all that stuff but I fail at math have more important things to do with my time want to make this easy on everyone so here are the rules:

1. On April 22nd, post about a way that you support a clean environment.
2. Include a link back to this site.
3. Link to your post on April 22nd in the Mr. Linky I'll post here.
4. Be willing to provide me with a mailing address if you win.

I'm still ironing out details of the prize (I won't be giving away a hybrid car or solar panels for your house but just a little something) but at this point it appears I'll only be able to mail to the continental US. To be eligible, your link must be entered into Mr. Linky by 11pm (EDT). I will verify links throughout the day to make sure the simple rules are followed and reserve the right to remove links if necessary. On April 23, I'll let random.org draw a winner from the Mr. Linky participants. I also reserve the right to update the rules if I missed something (for those of you who have done this before, please tell me if I'm screwing it up already!).

And because I know how you all love shiny buttons, I created one that you may use for this. Though, it's not required I'd appreciate help spreading the word.


<a href="http://www.showmyface.com/"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/posts/earthdayButton.jpg" /></a>

Teeth, eyeballs and bar soap, oh my!

Sorry I'm late with today's post - I was waiting on photos. Also, you'll probably be disappointed because the post isn't even that exciting. Come back tomorrow - I'm announcing a "thing" which may or may not involve a prize.

This post is the fault of inspired by Pooba. A couple of weeks ago, she posted about her adventures in closet organizing and I had the bright idea that this was JUST what I needed. Dammit, I may not be able to control my health or a myriad of other issues in my life but I sure as hell can control my hall closet!

After three trips to Target (oh, how Joe loves me...) and about a zillion dollars later, we had purchased 24 small bins, 3 medium bins, and 1 slightly larger bin. Plus a bunch of things for outside, some Easter candy, a movie, three notebooks and a new purse. Hey, it's Target! You can't just buy what you went in for!

And now I present to you the before and after of our hall closet (you may click for a slightly larger version if you feel so inclined).



Yes, that's Tonya's tail in the lower left of the "before". She almost ended up in the "after" as well but Rusty ate her face chased her away.

See how much more space? We now have such fabulous containers for Sun & Bug, Rx Meds, First Aid (which Joe wanted to call "Emergency" so he could file the pregnancy tests in there), migraine, and Tummy & Booty.

I also took the opportunity to clean our bathroom and organize under the sinks. More accurately, I organized under my sink. When I reached under Joe's sink, the first thing I pulled out was a bag full of teeth (technically, it was a mold of his teeth from sometime during the process of his braces). That was the end of that - I told him to clean under his own sink and let me know how many bins he needed and what labels to print.

Mine isn't that interesting - bins for hair tools and hair accessories, a bag of "woman products", and a bag of nail polish. The two bins Joe requested? "Travel" and "Nookie". Seriously, the husband wanted a Nookie bin. So of course I obliged!

Next, our master closet. Which is a teensy little claustrophobic casket of suck. There's no way I can work in there so it's going to require trashing the bedroom for a weekend.

My life has felt so chaotic and it amazes me how much better I feel with a clean house. I'm working through one room at a time and our Goodwill pile is growing. But little by little, progress is being made.

Happy Hoppy Easter!

Happy Easter! I know not everyone celebrates Easter or maybe you celebrate different aspects of Easter. All of which is fine by me. Just please tell me you at least celebrate candy. Preferably chocolate candy.

I'm going to focus briefly today on bunnies - I had several pet bunnies growing up. The first was very creatively named "Peter". The other one I remember was named "Floppy". Floppy was a beautiful deep brown/black lop-eared bunny given to us by friends that were moving out of the area. He was the sweetest bunny - he'd even let me hold him!

But one day, I approached his pen to feed him and he wasn't there. Where'd my bunny go? The cage was still latched from the outside and there were no holes enabling his escape. To this day, I still believe that someone stole my rabbit, even though my parents insist he just took a field trip. (I'm aware that in actuality something probably happened to Floppy and my parents were just covering it up - like the time they told me my Tara-cat ran away and I found out later they put her to sleep.)

Anyways, in honor of all the bunnies I've loved before, I've crafted my bloggy friends one of my very special cards. Hope you enjoy!





I also recommend the following cards - Mean Cards. Some of these are great!

Six Word Saturday

Let's hope Mr. Linky can behave himself this week... Otherwise I'll fix him as soon as I wake up.

Simple concept: describe your life (or something) in just six words. For more information, try clicking here.

I finally see the sun again

More of a statement about my state of mind than the weather. I'm still very up and down but I don't feel quite as continuously gloomy as I did a week ago. I haven't even had a walrus-sighting!

Please share your six words either in the comments or on your blog - be sure to use Mr. Linky below so we can all visit! And here's the code to link back with the shiny button if you like:

<a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" /></a>

Tonya, Day 3287

Dear Tonya,

This week, you turned 108 months old. That's nine years or the equivalent of 53 "human years" according to your doctor.

In the past year, you haven't made much progress with some of your more challenging personality traits. There's still a lot of room for improvement in how you treat your adopted brother, Rusty. I know you lived here first and think he's just a scruffy little nerf-herder so I would never go so far as expecting you to share your toys or food but I don't think it's unreasonable to ask you to not hiss at him every time he enters a room.

You also haven't managed to improve your reputation with the vet. I still hear the disappointment in their voices when they ask "which kitty needs the appointment" and I have to tell them it's you. Yes, your chart still contains the "caution" sticker on the front. And it probably always will.

One area where you have shown some improvement is in your puking. You've only done this three times in the last month. Once was spinach which was quite pleasant to find just before bedtime. Another time, Joe locked you in our room because you hadn't been finishing your dinner rations. That night, you finished it, meowed once to make sure we were paying attention, and then proudly projectile vomited on the carpet.

It hasn't been all bad though. In your advanced years, you are finally mellowing out a bit. Perhaps it's some sort of feline alzheimer's but lately you've been allowing me to sit on the sofa with you. On some evenings, you even let me scratch under your chin. More often than not, this has been positively received and you reciprocate with a nice purr. Or a death rattle - I haven't figured that out yet.

I still remember the day you entered my life. An adorable little ball of fluff. So innocent, so helpless, so manipulative. If I had known then what I know now, I would've left you on the doorstep of the nearest SPCA enjoyed the early years more before Satan possessed your soul adopted your brother as well. But, alas, I didn't and so he was creamed by a van. I'm pretty certain it was a mob hit but either way, your brother is still quite dead. I mean, those are the facts and there's no good sugar-coating them.

I hope this next year brings you some of the things you desire - long naps, regular meals, and an occasional treat. As for the banishment of Rusty and unlimited tuna, my wish is that you learn to understand that you can't always get what you want and you must find a way to make peace with it.

<3,
Long-haired human

Retail therapy

A couple of weeks ago, in the midst of a temper tantrum, I did what any good woman would do.  I counted to ten and focused on my breathing punched someone in the face poured myself a drink bought myself a gift. And I love my gift from me so much that I'm totally going to buy another one. Or twelve.

Shh... Please don't tell Joe. By the time he reads this it will be too late. I cannot be stopped. Bwahahahaha!

Anyways, I saw these amazing bracelets on Signals.com. Simple silver bangles with a line of inspiring words. Three issues - I'm not a big fan of bangles, the price was more than I wanted to spend, and the words weren't quite my words.

I set off in search of other bracelets that I could customize, pinging Twitter for assistance. C Beth reminded me of Lisa Leonard's beautiful jewelry. I especially love the lovebird cuff I linked and I'll own it someday but it still wasn't *quite* what I was after for this project - I wanted more letters and less cost.

Finally I hit the old stand-by for personalized gifts - Things Remembered. I found these bracelets, (hoping and praying that link works - it's been wonky) on sale, and with a coupon. Total for one bracelet, engraved on one side and shipped, was $41. Much more acceptable for a splurge indulgence.

I chose the black bracelet and had it engraved with words from a song. The full phrase is: "So take a minute just to breathe And think of everything you wanted And what you got instead". It's actually a David Cook song from his first solo album, Analog Heart. The song, Straight Ahead, is about focusing on what you really want. Just the six words I chose from that phrase are a fantastic reminder for me to focus: "take a minute just to breathe".

I <3 my new bracelet so much. I can't remember if I ever blogged about the bracelet I received from my sister. It was fake pearls and metal spacers, slightly too big for my wrist, and brought me comfort in times of anxiety like nothing else. I spun and counted those beads much like I imagine a Catholic seeks solace from the familiarity of a rosary. And last May, I lost it. I was devastated, had a new bracelet made in the same pattern, Joe bought me yet another bracelet, and neither were the same. This bracelet is different but it's also awesome. I can slide it around, count the beads, play with the beads that dangle. Plus, reading those words helps me to remember an important lesson.

So I'm buying another one. I've already bought black/wisdom. The other choices are green/luck, purple/dream, and rose/love. Which would you choose? And, more importantly, what would you have engraved on it? It can be a single word or up to 4 lines of 12 characters each. I especially love quotes and lyrics but mostly I just want it to serve as a reminder of some important idea. Be creative, I can't wait to see what you come up with. I'd even splurge to engrave both sides for the right quote.

A couple I'm considering (though I haven't counted for viability):

• Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark.
• focus
• Well-behaved women rarely make history
• Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
• Good habits are as easy to form as bad ones.
• Let me listen to me and not to them.
• Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.
• We each fill the silence with our own insecurities.
• I do whatever my rice crispies tell me to

And, because I know some of you probably fail at math like me, don't get tripped up on the counting. Feel free to share your favorite quotes you feel are worthy of wearing, even if they won't fit on my bracelet.

By the way, if you came here in search of information regarding the use of robot armadillos in combat, sorry to say you've come to the wrong place.

P.S. I'm kidding about the rice crispies quote. I wouldn't really want to wear that.

Celebrate!

Mark this date on your calendar! Ok, actually, mark yesterday's date on your calendar. That's the day I hit 100 followers! Wait, I haven't hit any followers. At least not on purpose. I maybe threaten to punch a few in the face from time to time but I haven't done it yet. (Donnetta, your day is still coming for cheating on Six Word Saturday).

Anyways, I remember chatting with SomeMonkey about reaching just ten followers. What a milestone! And now, C. Beth is my 100th. Somehow that makes me unnaturally happy because she's probably one of the very first blogs I started following.  She declined her prize as 100th follower, by the way. Seems she wasn't interested in all the cat hair she could eat. Tonya is going to feel so shunned.

I planned to have a celebration of some sort when I achieved the magic number but with all the phoning it in and walruses around here lately, I didn't expect to be gaining followers in the last week.

But yet, here you are. And here I am. Also, I'm writing this the night before, like I usually do. And since I'm not sure where this post is going, I thought I'd just finish it tomorrow. But Twitter will not be ignored and so I finish it now, despite a large number of drinks. (I guess I'm drinking my week's allotment all at once on a work night because the dr gave me new meds to start tomorrow that mean no drinking for 7 days).

Lora posed a question on Twitter that I don't have a good answer to (oh, man, I ended that sentence on a preposition - I seriously try not to do that). Anyways, she asked "Would you follow yourself on twitter? Would you read your own blog? I mean, if you didn't know you? Do you read your archives?". Yeah, I don't know. I think I'd read me but some days I'd ignore me because I'm obnoxious or whiny. But other times I'd laugh at me because I'm obnoxious. My actual response said something like "some day I expect my archives will scare the hell out of me".

Which all reminds me of one of the nicest blog-related compliments I've ever received. It was early on and came from one of the very few readers of this blog that I knew before I started writing here.  SisterFriend once said to me "even if i didnt know you i'd read your blog. me likey". That makes me warm and fuzzy inside.

In some ways, I feel like the 100th follower is bigger than the number of posts I've written. I could write 50 posts each day and if nobody gives a stamp of approval by following, it's kind of worthless. During a time when I'm struggling with a lot of internal issues, in turn fighting with my self-worth, I just want to say thank you to the hundred of you that follow. And those of you subscribe in other ways that don't follow. And those of you that visit occasionally all on your own.

This blog has become something I didn't expect, in both good ways and bad.  I have taken to putting most of my deep dark moments elsewhere even though that was my original intent for here.  While this is somewhat written for an audience most of the time, I still have my very personal quiet outlets.  And the relationships I've forged and enjoyment I've received from writing, reading, and commenting (as well as tweeting) has far surpassed my initial dreams.

Yeah, you can thank the Twitter-voters who decided I should BUI (Blog Under the Influence) for the extra sap and mush. But you can thank all of you for deserving it. Here's to 100 more!  Or, if all 100 of you leave me tomorrow, I'll probably still keep blogging, posting to the voices in my head.  And expecting answers.

Green thumbs

Friday afternoon, after arriving back at my undisclosed location in town, Joe and I went to Home Depot for some plants.

A little background - every year, we bury plants plant a garden in the backyard. We always do this too late in the season and then forget to water things so we'll just say it's not usually a successful undertaking. Last year, after planting zucchini, jalapeno peppers, squash, tomatoes, parsley and basil, we had one watermelon the size of a softball and 3 cherry tomatoes (except, I could've sworn we planted "big boys", not teensy cherry tomatoes). Everything else died. Except the basil because we smart enough to keep that in a pot on the porch.

This year, I was determined to plant a larger garden and actually take care of it. We've had some work done in the backyard and I'm all inspired and outdoorsy. Except... I really hate working in the yard. To be fair, the yard started it. Or, technically I could blame this on my mother, just like everything else. You see, I'm allergic to the outdoors. Several kinds of grass, trees, molds, pollens, dusts are all on my no-no list. I also hate any and all species of bugs, whether they be flying, crawling, or slithering.

So, back to Friday. We went to Home Depot and bought many plants. Two kinds of bulbs (I felt so grown-up, planting "I don't know if they're annuals or perennials, I just want the ones that come back next year!"), zucchini, squash, green bell peppers, strawberries, ten (yes TEN!) tomato plants, a blueberry bush, and two citronella plants to ward off mosquitoes. Also, I planted my most favorite flower in the entire world, a lilac tree.

I grew up in a climate where lilacs were plentiful. In fact, I was mad we couldn't plan our wedding for May so I could carry lilacs and roses for my bouquet. But since moving way south of "home", I've been told our climate is too warm for lilacs. Then, I dug around online and found out it *is* possible to grow them here at my undisclosed location!

We searched several stores over the past few weeks, looking for lilacs. I looked again on Friday but was unsuccessful. Until Joe points out three lilacs all in a row. "Are these not what you're looking for?"

Well, excUuuUUuUUuse ME! It's not like they were in bloom or looked like lilacs. It was more like a twig in the dirt with a minimal amount of green leaves on the end. What, I'm supposed to read the little tags? Pffft, this gardening is hard stuff! (By the way, also, I kept seeing "early divided broccoli" and just figured the little plantling was weaned really early from its mama-plant. But I just read a post by Reggie Girl and it turns out it's early divideNd broccoli. Like, early yield. Ooooh!)

Then on Sunday, it was time for the actual yardwork. I chugged my cocktail of benadryl and valium, put on my big girl panties, and covered myself from head to toe in some sort of cancer-causing bug repellent so I could get to work.

This is getting ridiculously long so I'll spare you the details except to say that it was a bug-infested, killer-bee-dodging, sweat-inducing, icky yucky dirty five-plus hours to complete our tasks. Which didn't include spreading mulch (he did that at night) and planting my three potted flowers, two basil and one rosemary plant on for the deck.

After all of that, guess what? A surprise late-Spring freeze tonight. So now the question is - do I let them die now or do I prolong the inevitable and cover them up?

Blame it on the rain

I'm feeling introspective today and trying to figure out what I'm doing.

You know how when you're overly tired and no matter how many times you blink or rub your eyes, you just can't quite see clearly enough to really focus? My head is like that right now. I keep blinking, blinking, blinking... And clarity improves for a split second but then it unfailingly begins to blur once again.

One of the things really weighing on me is my health. Tomorrow, I return to the doctor. My expectations are to not come out of her office with answers but I am going to insist that we take a more aggressive approach to figuring out what is happening to me. I'm pretty sure she'll insist, actually, but if she doesn't, it's time to find a new doctor. So far, she's been by the book and I have confidence in her. But it's like when you have a headache - we've tried the equivalent resting, aspirin, ice packs, prescription pills. Now it's time to ramp up because none of the simple solutions are working. I'll feel better just knowing that we're taking stronger action.

Last Monday, I posted about my attitude adjustment. Despite the rest of this post, that's actually been going quite well. No matter how much I feel like I'm being slammed around by life, I keep reminding myself about that new and improved attitude and it's helped a lot.

I apologize if my posts aren't so warm and fuzzy or entertaining all the time. Actually, nah, I don't. It's my blog, it's my life. Thanks to everyone for your wise words in the comments of yesterday's non-post. I kept coming back to the reminder from Grand Pooba (and, seriously, she's the grandest pooba I know - I plan to post about her again later this week) that blogging is supposed to be an outlet, not an obligation. I'll post something every day because it makes me crazier not to but maybe I'll give you a secret bat-signal if it's a bit meh.

Yes, the secret word shall be "walrus", as decided by Twitter and random.org. Thank you to blognut for forcing me to figure out how to work "walrus" into my blog openings. Also, this was the most "normal" of the words she suggested. Thank you random.org for having my back!

So from now on, if you see a post that mentions "walrus" in the beginning, consider yourself warned!

Your turn

I have a confession... I don't want to write this post.

This makes me feel bad because I'm pretty sure I've been phoning it in most of the week. But it's almost midnight, I've spent 10+ hours helping Joe with taxes, and I'm fried. Also, I accomplished a lot yesterday and there's a lot on my Sunday list as well.

In addition, I told myself that I'd write my Saturday and Sunday posts during the week and obviously I failed at that this week since I took Friday off.

So how about you all confess something instead? Not too big of a request, just in the comments.

When's the last time you phoned in a blog post? Or took the lazy way out of something? Or kicked a puppy?

Six Word Saturday

Simple concept: describe your life in six words. More info by clicking here.

Also, never have I been more grateful for this short simple concept than tonight.

Nothing beats live music. Absolutely nothing.

I had an awesome time at an awesome concert last night. And many more concerts to come this year (currently tickets to three more, hoping to catch a minimum of one additional). All of which leads to tomorrow's Sunday confession, assuming I settle down enough to write it. Twenty-four hours later and still flying high.

Also, I'll totally be catching up on comments, reading and commenting ASAP.  Friday was a day off for me and I didn't make it through my usual routine.

Please share your six words either in the comments or on your blog - be sure to use Mr. Linky below so we can all visit! And here's the code to link back with the shiny button if you like:

<a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" /></a>

Oops, I way overslept this morning and apparently so did Mr. Linky. But no, we were not sleeping together. Just, nevermind... It's fixed now. Sorry!

TGIF!

I took today off from work. And I was out last night. Which means I scribbled this itty bitty posty on Thursday afternoon before running home to pack and hit the road.

Six Word Saturday is tomorrow so please come back and play. In the meantime, enjoy your Friday, give someone a hug, and don't run with scissors while I'm gone.

Fuzzbutt Report

Time to file our monthly First Fursday report.  And since Rusty took advantage of my nap last month, it's my turn.  That's right, Tonya at the helm! 

It's been an odd month around here.  Lots of open windows and even an open door.  Normally I get yelled at when I sneak out that door to help the short-haired human cook my fishes on the firebox.  But suddenly the door is left open and the humans don't mind us joining them on the "porch".  Let me just tell you, I don't know what a porch is exactly but it has a lot of interesting sounds and smells.  I totally approve.

Also, sometimes when the humans are out on that porch, I'm able to hop up on the kitchen counter to see if they've left me any good snacks.  I found some spinach leaves once, which I love.  Then long-haired human found the same leaves again later that night where I puked spinach on the stairs.  Awesome.

If anyone cares, Rusty's been enjoying the sunshine, either on the porch or on the dining room floor where he likes to sleep in the bright spots.  One day I caught him trying to lick the sunshine off the floor.  Moron.  He makes the rest of us look so stupid.  But maybe he had the last laugh because later that night he puked rainbows.  Yeah, the rainbows looked a lot like the ribbon from a gift bag but still.  Only Rusty would barf rainbows.

Besides hurling, we also spent some time shedding our winter coats and then hiding from the vacuum monster.  Never fear, as soon as the vacuum monster returned upstairs, we made sure to recover the carpet in our fluffy goodness.

Speaking of hiding, the short-haired human packed one of those special bags in the closet and didn't come back home that night, leaving long-haired human alone.  I made sure to keep her company by singing her lullabyes all night.  Then the next morning, she was running around to leave for that place she goes and I did her a big favor by hiding under the bed in the guest room.  This way, I wasn't in the way for her to trip over and it saves her time if I don't rub against her black pants.  She wasn't impressed though and dug me out, quite impatient with me.  There's no making these humans happy!

This month is my birthday month, by the way.  I'm fully expecting a surprise party and all the tuna I can eat.  Please be sure not to disappoint me - the consequences won't be pretty for anyone involved.

Guest Entry: Welcome to Hell Day

Today's guest blog brought to you by blognut over at More Mindless Rambling. We were "saucy" during the same week waaaaay back in the day and I've been faithfully stalking her ever since.

This is not a typical guest post or blog swap though. No way, no how. That would be too easy and you know how I fail at simplicity! You can read my post over at Mo "Mad Dog" Stoneskin's place. At some point, we'll swap back the other direction (it's very complicated - blognut made us a chart and did all the math!) and you can read Mo's awesomeness here.

So enjoy a day that's not "me".   As a bonus, Tonya & Rusty have already claimed tomorrow for First Fursday so you don't have to listen to me again until Friday!

Woo hoo! I get to play over at Cate’s blog today and I couldn’t be more excited. Shush! Don’t tell her that I never pick up after myself and that’s why no one ever let’s me come over to play. She’ll figure it out soon enough, and by then she’ll be really ticked off and that will give her something to blog about tomorrow.

Anyway, here I am and I get to tell you about my worst day from hell. For the most part, this is the kind of crap I have to put up with every day. Yes, this is your opportunity to feel sorry for me. I’m accepting donations or something. You know, whatever you can spare is good.

Hell Day, huh? Well, let’s take it from the top.

6:50am - Jackass alarm clock goes off, bleating like a goat on crack. Slap the shit out of the snooze button, pray for 9 more blessed minutes of sleep, and then peek at the clock with one eye open.

6:50am and 2 seconds - Realize the snooze button has already been applied 7 times and leap out of bed like someone with dynamite lodged in her butt crack.

6:59am – Hit the shower. Remember that the new razorblades are still lying on the desk in the kitchen. Shave with dull blade anyway. Nearly amputate left foot. Swear like sailor. Leave armpits growing goatee.

7:02am – Apply generous amount of shampoo to eyeballs. Go blind for 6 minutes. 

7:08am – Step out of shower onto slippery, wet ceramic tile. Feet go left, towel goes right, ass goes down. Swear like sailor.

7:09am – Recover from fall, glare at self in mirror and wonder what happened to upset the Fates. Notice dry skin. Grease self up like a pig at the fair. Get lotion in shaving injury. Swear like sailor.

7:14am - Yell at The Boy to get out of bed and jump into yesterday’s clothes because I forgot to do laundry. “Don’t worry, Buster. No one cares what you’re wearing.” Make note to dodge calls from Child Welfare.

7:18am – “Just wear Daddy’s socks, I didn’t wash yours yet.” “No one will know that they come up to your crotch if you don’t show anyone your crotch.” “Work with me, Boy! I’m losing it.”

7:20am – Throw waffle at The Boy, throw butter at The Boy, hand The Boy a knife. (What, you thought I’d throw a knife at my kid?) Run back upstairs to plaster face with make-up and don a banker’s costume.

7:30am – Run hose, search for more, find none. Decide to skip the skirt and find pants instead. Apply safety pins and scotch tape for “temporary/permanent” hem. Curse drycleaner for not realizing that scotch tape on pants was actually an invitation to hem pants.

7:39am – Begin the daily ritual of searching for shoes; both mine and The Boy’s. Find one shoe in closet, other shoe behind chair in family room. Mild chew marks on heel of shoe. Polish over it, it’ll have to do. Give up search for The Boy’s tennis shoes and instruct him to wear soccer cleats. “Really, people will think you’re so cool.”

7:50am – Make lunch for The Boy to bring to school. Crap! No bread, no jelly. Smear peanut butter and mustard onto hamburger bun and stuff into the last sandwich bag. Find candy bar and fruit roll-up and throw those into the lunch box, too. Underline earlier instruction to dodge calls from Child Welfare.

7:55am – Out the door! Drop boy at school, being careful to bring car to a complete stop unlike last time which resulted in a call from Child Welfare.

8:02am – Fly onto the on-ramp for I-55 and then notice sea of blazing brake lights. Swear like sailor. Back car up the on-ramp and opt for surface roads instead of interstate.

8:05am – Drive past Starbucks with no time to stop. Shed many tears. Swear like sailor.

9:10am – Arrive to work only 40 minutes after the bank opened. Realize that means I’m only 10 minutes later than usual. Sneak into office and spread files around so it looks like I’ve been there for hours.

9:20am – Find coffee mug with something furry and solid growing in mug. Abandon coffee idea and reach under the desk for the case of Diet Pepsi. Find out the Diet Pepsi is all gone. Swear like sailor.

9:22am – Check blog. Find no comments. Find no hits on site. Feel mighty unloved. Fall into deep state of depression. Begin to actually work.

1:00pm – Give in to hunger pangs and head for the break room. Realize I have forgotten to bring myself a peanut butter and mustard sandwich. Find slightly hairy bit of cheese in the refrigerator, scrape off hair, and eat it anyway.

1:20pm – Return to desk and resolve to get something done.

1:22pm – “Favorite” customer shows up without an appointment and wants to talk about his IRA account. Search for sharp object to jam into my ear. Finding none, review FDIC coverage, IRA regulations, and feign interest during remainder of conversation regarding politics and why the state of the economy is probably the fault of the Democrats. Bite tongue until tongue bleeds and pray for phone to ring.

2:18pm – Starving again. Locate 4 year old tube of cherry Chapstick in desk drawer and eat it.

2:30pm – Get up from desk without remembering to close file drawer. Shatter right leg on desk drawer. Swear like sailor.

2:32pm – Unable to remember where I was going before suffering crippling injury, sit back down and check on blogs. Find only 2 comments. Swear like sailor. Vow never to read any of these people again if they don’t start leaving comments. Read blogs anyway.

3:20pm – Realize how much time has passed while reading blogs and get back to work.

3:30pm – Remember that I was getting up an hour ago because I needed to pee.

3:31pm – Find that the restroom has been rendered uninhabitable by inconsiderate co-worker with irritable bowel syndrome.

3:32pm – Return to desk with full bladder and type up an angry email to staff reading: “Please adapt eating habits to allow for obnoxious shit-making to occur at home. Spraying horrendous amounts of peach air freshener only leaves the restroom smelling like peaches and shit. Stop it, do those things at home.” Decide not to send email to co-workers and send it to SecretSpineless[dot]Whine[at]blogger[dot]com instead.

6:00pm – Give up pretending to work and head for home.

7:00pm – Arrive home to find that no one has emptied the dishwasher, and The Boy has not started his homework. Swear like sailor.

8:30pm – Blog. Read blogs. Check email. Update Facebook status to read, “I’m huddled in the corner eating my own hair.”

11:30pm – Pound last Diet Pepsi of the day and head to bed.