Ranks Right Up There

I have done a lot of really dumb things in my life. A lot. In fact, I've probably done more stupid things in my life than I've done good. And I know I'll have to pay for that one day, which is why my mantra when people have told me that I'm going to hell is that the first one there buys the beer. So it's not gonna be a shocker, is all I'm saying. But today's stupid act is one for the record books. I'm not a reckless person, but I'm also a person that doesn't back down. It's important for you to know this about me, because it's going to relate directly to this post. If you tell me that the sky is blue, I'll argue how incorrect you are, and not only are you incorrect, but how also a real friend would have never let you leave the house dressed like that. I go for blood, and I'm in for the long haul. Hence how my strong headedness has led to today's stupid event.

I'm driving home, The Smoodge happily licking her toes and giggling in the backseat, when a car comes hauling ass up behind me and firmly maintains a 2 inch distance from my rear bumper. There was a car in front of me preventing me from either speeding up or getting out of the way of El Speedy behind me, and construction on either side keeping me from pulling off. So I maintained speed, slowing slightly because if El Speedy behind me decides to use his car as a battering ram I at least won't maintain any front damage. This apparently angers El Speedy because he then begins to back off me, then speeding back up to get as close as possible, repeating this vehicular representation of a toddler stamping his feet about three times. Then he starts in with the horn. I check to make sure he has no lights and sirens, and then proceed to slow down further. I'm not into unnecessary torture (well, okay, that's not entirely true), but this guy had ticked me off. The car in front of me pulls away, and that's when I decided to LIGHTLY tap my brakes so that El Speedy would know I'm acknowledging his impatience, and I don't give a flying fuck. He backs off to a much safer three inches from my bumper, and I travel the remaining 10 feet to my driveway. Mistake number one. I know, I probably made a billion other mistakes, but this is where I begin counting. Anyway, El Speedy decides to zip in next to me as I pull up to the keypad to enter the gate code. He rolls down his passenger window as I'm rolling down my drivers window, and since he's glaring at me, I return the favor. Our conversation went roughly like this:

Me: Hello, kind sir. And what might I do for you on this fine day?

El Speedy: Are you out of your fucking mind? What are you trying to do?

Me: I'm confused by your implications. I was driving safely along when you advanced upon me in an aggressive manner. I was simply trying to alleviate any and all traffic hazards that may have resulted in an accident.

El Speedy: Are you trying to get your car wrecked?

Me: Are you threatening me? (insert your own Beavis and Butthead voice here)

El Speedy: I am not threatening you. I am trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with you that you would slam on your brakes and try to cause a wreck. Are you trying to mess up your car?

Me: Again, sir, I have to ask if you are threatening me. Need I remind you that it was YOU who was riding my bumper, endangering myself and the vehicles behind you while you continually advanced upon me in a manner that indicated you had somewhere to be in a hurry, which clearly you do not because instead of continuing on your way, you've pulled over here and are engaging me in conversation.

I said that that was ROUGHLY how it went down. There might have been a tad bit more profanity (from me), and I may have said something along the lines of 'yapping your gap' instead of 'engaging me in conversation,' but you get the gist of what happened. Regardless, when he realized he was not going to win this argument with me, he changed his tune to 'I just wanted to make sure you were okay' and 'I just wanted to apologize for my reckless driving.' (no really, he did say that...honestly!) Anyway, I told him that I accepted his apology, and requested that he have a great evening. He left, and that's where I realized my stupidity. All this happened in the driveway to my apartment complex, and now he knows where I live.

Which is why I'll be spending the next two or three nights in the front seat of my car with a can of mace and an air-zooka. I'd just like to see him come back and try to jack with my car. Only once, mother-fuckah.

Topic Trouble

I struggle fairly regularly on what to blog about. At least when I sit down to blog. During the day, I'll come across several things that I think would make for awesome topics, but when it comes time to put the thoughts down on computer screen?...I blank. Completely. And I'm left doing stupid posts like all the different ways you can make up dumb names or the post that I deleted a few minutes ago because, really? Who wants to hear about the mind boggling crap my daughter took this morning? And then I start thinking about, well, why do I blog in the first place?

I'm going to have a take break from this post because my co-worker is yelling at his kid on the phone. He just told his kid that he was 'gonna ground him somethin' fierce. I am turning purple here to keep from laughing. Oh my good god. Live action folks, you heard it here first. Giant man with diabetes squeezes himself into a cube and yells into the 'talky box' that you ain't got no right to give your mom heck. Coworkers are all standing in the doorways of their cubes wondering what the hell is going on. It's like a giant car wreck on the highway. You know there's blood and guts, and you don't want to look, but how often do you get the opportunity to see what squished human looks like? Wow. This is crazy. I'd give you a play by play, but it's being done in such a thick southern accent that I'm having to translate after the fact, Oop, looks like the fights over. Sounds of phone slamming, and a giant GEEEZ comes from the cube. Party's over folks, nothing to see. Don't gotta go home, but you can't stay here.

Okay, that first part of my post, never mind about all that...



I finally met a goal! Sure, it was a little one, that really has no pay off or reward to it. It's not even redeeming really, other than the fact that I actually did it! My goal, you ask? To post fourth of July pics before the end of July. And the last day of July is tomorrow. Take that suck-ahs!

Oh, go here to see them :)

Mango Bra-ie

You know you're bored when you voluntarily play The Name Game... Maybe boredom is the wrong word. Lack of interest in work. That's a bit more accurate. Either way, enjoy the fruits of my nothingness.

And also, don't judge me. I can hear you doing it, so just knock it off.

YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car)
Princess Lancer

YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie)
Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ranger

YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name)

YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Det. Blackdolphin

YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Jo Richmond

YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first)

NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers)
Richard Gene

WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names )
Ann Gene

TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter)
No Idea Naples

YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”)
The Rock, Paper, Scissors Water Spout Tour

SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink)
The Lime Green Red Headed Slut

STRIPPER NAME: (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy)
Baby Hair Warhead

SPY NAME/BOND GIRL: (your favorite season, holiday/ flower)
Hurricane Oktoberfest

CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”)

Mango Bra-ie

HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree)

Nothing Pecan

See how fun that was? Now I tag all of you...okay, both of you...okay, Mom, you're tagged.


Out of nowhere

Reason number four billion, three hundred twenty six million, eight hundred ninety five thousand, one hundred and three why I hate California:

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding me?

Los Angeles wants to place a moratorium on fast food restaurants in low income areas because the people there are too fat? Why? So that sit down restaurants can go in and offer their healthy, happy food for more than the residents of that area can afford, go broke, and then encourage area residents to vandalize and break in so they can recoup insurance money to get the hell out? Have these idiots ever sat down and compared the prices on healthy food vs unhealthy food? IT'S RIDICULOUS! You could buy a tank of gas for what it costs to eat somewhere that serves all that free-range chicken and freshly washed tomatoes. Oh, they are going to offer incentives, you say, to keep the prices affordable? Incentives that people like myself, a member of working class America, are going to have to pay for, all the while being unable to afford healthy food for myself and daughter? There are so many different arguments that can be gotten into regarding the stupidity of this decision, furthering my belief that there is SERIOUSLY SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE WATER IN CALIFORNIA. Look, I'm not a proponent of unhealthy food, nor am I proponent of healthy food. You will find just as much mac and cheese and white castle burgers in my pantry and freezer as you will salad and vegetables. But putting a ban on trans fats and restricting business isn't going to make the residents of South LA thinner. And if you think it will, then you need to pull off those rose colored glasses and get a grip on reality. And maybe call a shrink. Because you are seriously delusional. Possibly high.

Everyone has choices they have to make in life. Apparently South LA has chosen to be fat. What's next? Will the city council cut off all cable television because if those fat asses would go outside and take a walk instead of honing in on a Judge Joe Brown marathon they'd shed a few pounds as well? Seriously California. It was bad enough when you stuck signs on every single thing saying that 'this item will give you cancer', now you gotta get rid of the Happy Meal too? You want to butt your fake tanned, rehab loving asses into the real world? Work on the issues in this comment I found in relation to the article:

"I'm poor and overweight. Will banning my access to fast food restaurants improve my dietary habits and help me loose weight? ABSOLUTELY NOT The government needs to realize that low income peoples dietary habits are more a result of economics than choice I try to feed myself & 2 teens on $164.00 of food stamps each month. Yesterday in the grocery store I wanted to buy fish (high in heart healthy omega 3 oils) fresh salad vegetables, orange juice and 12 grain bread and some watermelon The cost of these items: $24.00! what I got was white bread@ $1.59, Hot dogs @ 1.99, 1 bag of frozen veggies @ .99,1 can of beans @ .69, 1 3liter orange soda @ .99 and a 1/2 gallon of fruit flovored sherbet @ $1.99. You do the math... I can't afford to buy and eat healthy foods. You can buy candy and chips and soda with food stamps but not multi vitamins. I often have to go to Food Pantries and settle for whatever handouts I can get and the only time we got fresh fruit there during all of last year, was at Christmas. By the way I went to Mc Donalds this week to buy my daughter a $1 cheeseburger to go with the free fries coupon she got at the dentists and I bought a $1 salad which had cherry tomatoes,cucumbers and mixed baby greens... "

Leave the Golden Arches alone. The only people it might be hurting are the people you don't bother yourself with anyway. What do you care?


Post NOT from the Coast

We're home. And I'm VERY tired. So instead of telling you about the beach, the good dinner gone bad, the late night, the aquarium, all the people who touched my kid today, and miscellaneous other bits of what has happened since my last post, I will leave you with a few pics and a video. Just to tide you over until I get my brain back.


Post from the Coast 2

The Smoodge is in taking a quick nap, so while she's busy dreaming about pelicans and seagulls, I'm sitting in the shade of the balcony feeling the salty breeze and watching kayakers and boaters lazily float past.

We woke up late, no surprise there since The Smoodge didn't crash out until around 1am, and I didn't hit the sack myself until around 3. Got up, grabbed a tortilla and came out on the balcony to feed the winged rats (seagulls) and fish. Those seagulls are talented, boy. Toss it up in the air and they'll dive bomb to catch it before it hits the ground. They also displayed their hummingbird capabilities by riding the wind right in front of your face until you toss the morsel they are waiting for. I got a few pics, and we'll try for more later once we have real bread. Tortillas suck for tossing; too light. I'll have to post them when I get back home because I didn't bring a card reader down here. Anyway, after we did that for a bit, we got dressed and headed down to this little dive that had phenomenal burgers. Now, I'm not one to wuss out and not finish a good meal, but this was so filling I had to tap out early. The Smoodge got chicken strips, and they were surprisingly good.

And now we're back here, waiting for The Smoodge to awaken and planning our afternoon. Possibly going to rent a boat to cruise around in for a bit, or maybe some jet skis. There's also the option of going on a sunset tour with another boating company as well. Today's a lazy day, just whatever we feel up to doing. Tomorrow we'll hit up the aquarium, and maybe the Lexington on our way out of town.

And if I play my cards right, before we leave here I'll have myself a sugar daddy to buy me a place down here. Hey, a girl can dream, can't she?

Post from the Coast

We are here. After a couple hour drive, then a couple more hours getting The Smoodge back to sleep, but we are finally sitting down to life as it should be. Sitting in a warm salty breeze, eating powdered donuts, drinking bottomless cups of Diet Coke, and chatting.

I am not shitting you, one of my friends just made a batch of cookies and set them down in front of us. I hope my funeral was fun, because I must have seriously died and this is what heaven is like.

Funnily enough, two of us are online, the third, well, she was busy making cookies (she knows her role), and we've got Pulp Fiction on the tube.

The drive here was not so bad. We got on the road around 8, The Smoodge was crashed out before we even left the city limits. And that's when the three hour marathon of every awesome song from the past rocked us all the way here. You do not know a good time until you are singing along with The Proclaimers explaining how you'd walk five hundred miles (and then you'd walk five hundred more), hoping the fuzz don't stop you. I just don't know how humorous they would have found it when we rolled down the window and let them know that under no certain terms are we ceasing the singing until the da da da-da's are over.

So yeah, I'm having a great time. And we haven't even done anything yet. Technically, at this point in the trip, we could have driven 1604 around and around for three hours until we stopped back at someones house to blog and bake cookies.

Ezekiel 25:17 :)



Can't go wrong with a title like that. No siree, it's simple, to the point, and universal. That being said, LET THE WEEKEND BEGIN!... about an hour. At which time, I will tear out of here like a bat out of hell, careen through traffic in an effort to beat any jams in order to pick up The Smoodge, make my way over to the apartment, where I will anxiously await for my dinner to arrive, eat, pack, and load into the car, where we will promptly head to my weeeee-kend of fun. And time. Could not. Be moving. More sloooooowly.

It flew for most of the day. Got in, handed out checks. Spent the morning configuring some hardware and software for time management purposes, which is something that has only taken me the last 3 months to do, but whatever. Wrote out some instructions for miscellaneous things, reviewed some applications, just in general keeping busy stuff. NONE of which were scheduled for today, but, like I said earlier, whatever. It doesn't matter if I have my day scheduled down to the SECOND, only about 3% of what I have scheduled. You know what that three percent is? Showing up and leaving. I can't even guarantee a lunch break. But I digress. Back to the topic at hand, which is how freaking slooooooooooow the day is moving along now that I only have 39 minutes until I am out of here.

Oh who am I kidding? I'm leaving early, so it's really only about 20 minutes. The bosses are gone, and the only people that are left aren't worth the matter they're made up of, so yeah, I'm out of here early. Just try to stop me.

Alright, I think I've killed enough time here. I'm going to try to get a few more things done, and then I'm off! WHOO-HOO!


Late Night Post

I just posted some shots on my Flickr. I actually don't have a lot of time to post because I'm doing laundry in preparation for my weekend o' fun. And waiting for a phone call. And trying to stop the bleeding. I shaved my legs, and as I've mentioned before, I'm not so good at that, so now I'm trying to decide at what point do I need a transfusion. Getting dizzy......

Hehe, kidding, but I did give myself a rowdy cut while shaving. So much so I had to rinse the chunk of flesh from the razor. I know, how's THAT for a visual. But at least I know that I have mad skills should I ever need to fillet a fish with a razor.

ANYway, I posted some shots, so enjoy. I'll blog a bit more tomorrow. I'm kind of in a dark place tonight and don't want to talk about it, so let's try again tomorrow when I'm a bit more chipper, shall we?


Round One

I shot this from my balcony, and it's the first round of Dolly's outer bands about to hit San Antonio. Wasn't too bad, a fairly small cell that was angry in it's own right. Blew some stuff around, put on a phenomenal light show, and dumped a bunch of wet stuff I hear they call rain on top of everyone during rush hour traffic. It didn't last very long, but the worst of it for San Antonio will come tomorrow. Hopefully. I am not looking forward to that pile of paperwork I didn't even look at today, and if I can use this storm as an excuse, well, so be it.

At first I was afraid this hurricane would ruin my weekend, but I've been given the green light, and good times will commence as planned. More on that later. In the meantime, I'm just enjoying the cool breeze we're being treated to.

Killing Time

Can you say...SLOW DAY?

First, I woke up late, which really isn't any big surprise because I ALWAYS wake up late. Except this morning it was exceptionally late. So I called in to act like I was going to be later than normal because I was getting a gift for a coworkers baby shower today at lunch, and asked if anyone needed me to pick up anything for the shower. See? How resourceful am I? Anyway, the shower is kind of sucking the productivity right out of the day. I mean, I couldn't accomplish anything before the shower because there were preparations to be made, and now I can't accomplish anything because I don't want to. Ugh.

Meanwhile, back in the bat cave, everyone is apparently freaking out of this strong wind that's going to come through here, otherwise known as DOLLY. My financial dude even wanted to cancel my meeting with him tomorrow because the weather is supposed to be nasty. Seriously people? Is the weather business getting THAT boring you have to get all excited about some high winds that BARELY made it to hurricane status? Works for me, I'm currently angling to close the office tomorrow so that we can all work from home. Which probably wouldn't be a whole lot different than what I'm working on from here, except at home I can do it in my underwear while drinking liquor and catching up on the Young and the Restless. WAY more fun.

What else, what else...that's pretty much it. Actually, there's lots of stuff I could talk about, but not really because it's work related and I don't know who reads this blog, and don't want to go and get myself fired or something equally stupid. But when I think about it, the fact that I'm blogging at work about how I don't do anything at work could also get me fired.. On the other hand, me blogging at work is not nearly the inter-office secret that the other things I could talk about are.....

I love the websites on this website. Some of the furniture they have is amazing. Expensive, but really cool. Stuff I'd love to decorate my own house with. If I had a G to drop on a step stool. If you want to kill some time, those websites can help you do it.

I will also leave you with a video that was sent to me, and I forwarded it on to others. Because that's what I'm all about. Sharing. Paying it forward. Benefiting mankind...*cough, cough....Sorry, I think I just shot Diet Coke out of my nose... Regardless, watch the video.


Lack of Blog Tonight

I fully intended on sitting down and having a meaningful blog moment. Right up until I pulled my glasses off and took a good look at the caterpillar that is stuck to my forehead right where my eye brows used to be. Since I've been wearing my glasses, thanks to the Great Eye Boycott of 2008, the frames shield my normally bare eye features and I was unable to notice how rowdy things had gotten. So instead, the blogging for this evening has been put on hold as I attack my face with a brow brush and tweezers. And it looks like I'm in for the long haul, because I've been hacking away for about 45 minutes, and I still have one more to go. Awesome.


Sunday Bloody Sunday

Alright, I know it's more than a little cliche, but I couldn't get that song out of my head once I thought it, so now I make you all suffer...Mwah ha ha ha..ha......ha.....

Anyway, yeah, today's Sunday. I posted earlier, all sadness and gloom and ick, but I'm feeling much better now. My Smoodge is home where she belongs, and my apartment is mostly clean. I say mostly and not all the way because the vacuum cleaner is now making a nest for itself in the dumpster, and once it broke, my cleaning rhythm was disrupted, and I found it hard to get myself back in the groove. Does that happen to anyone else? You start a task, get trucking along, really in the groove, and some random thing happens and you find yourself with the perfect excuse to lay on the couch watching some random movie? Anyone? No? Just me? Okay, never mind then. But the apartment is mostly clean. The only thing I have to finish is laundry. And okay, maybe the bathroom could use a little bit of cleaning. And obviously the hallway and the bedroom still need to be vacuumed. Oh, and now there's some dishes in the sink from dinner. And my desk still needs to be organized and windexed (glass top). And The Smoodge's toys need to be picked up. But other than that, mostly clean.....

I also watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory for the first time ever today. Apparently there is also a Willa Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, but I have not seen that. I have only seen the Charlie one. I also did a bit of wikipedia-ing on the subject, not wanting to embarrass myself too much on the subject (too late), and discovered that it was actually a book by Roald Dahl. I'll get back to this in a minute. First, I want to say that all those children, every last one of them, got on my very last nerve. I would have had a very hard time not holding them under that supposedly very hot chocolate river until they had stopped kicking. And what scares me the most? I KNOW SOME OF THOSE KIDS. I'm actually related to a couple of them. I know, that Charlie kid is supposed to be a good kid and all, but seriously. That little kiss ass. Who does that? Second, Willie Wonka looked a little bit like a pedophile. Scratch that, he looked A LOT like a pedophile. Actually, he looked a bit like what Michael Jackson would look like if he still had a nose. And wore a top hat. See? Pedophile. Third, Violet's mother is totally into nose candy. You know she is. Come on! Those crazy eyes, skinny, always going going going? You know she was totally sneaking away to do a rail off the toilet seat. Best part of the whole movie? When the puppet show caught on fire. THAT was hilarious. I almost coughed up a lung. Second best part? The puppet infirmary later on the flick. That was reference hilarious.

Okay, now back to the book part. So the book, when it was first introduced, had the Oompa Loompa's as dark skinned and skinny African pygmies who worked for cacao beans. But then there was outrage by the NAACP and a few other folk because they claimed it was racist, and it was changed so that the Oompa Loompa's (that is a weird word to type, btw) were described as having long golden brown hair and rosy white skin. Is it just me, or is that just about the stupidest thing you've ever heard? Who is this racist against? Oompa Loompa's? And why on earth would it be racist? Are Oompa Loompa's a real race? And why is it not okay for them to be dark skinned, skinny, and from Africa, but perfectly acceptable for them to match a caucasian stereo-type?

In re-reading that, I realize that some of you may think I'm sitting here typing this wearing a white bed sheet and a pointy hat, and I'll have you know that's simply not true. It's a blue bed sheet, and I don't have a pointy hat. Kidding, kidding. Take that last paragraph however you want, it doesn't matter much to me. To be honest, I don't care where Oompa Loompa's come from. And I could get into this whole long diatribe about how I think certain group's just like to get their panties in a bunch for public viewing just so they can be covered by the media, but the media does a WAY better job at that than I do, so feel free to tune into CNN. As for me and my Oompa opinion, we're going to take a shower, and then we're off to bed.

Sad Sunday

I am inexplicably sad this morning, I miss my Smoodge. I just dropped her off with her father, and get to face another day without her smiling face. It's absolutely amazing to me how much she has wormed her little way into every detail of my life, completely changing the person I used to be.

So with that, I'm sad. I've got to keep myself busy today to avoid heading into that lovely full on depression I seem to be prone to. You know, the one where all I can focus on is how lonely I am, how far away my family is, how hard this is by myself, yadda yadda yadda... So I have to resist the urge to crawl back into bed and pull the covers up over my face. Gotta keep busy. Guess this would be a good time to clean, huh? Nothing like depression inspired cleaning. It will either be the best cleaning ever, or the most half-assed job I've ever done. Bets, anyone?


Let's Get One Thing Straight

So, okay. How do I start this? It's kind of random, but it bothers me EVERY stinking time I see it. Because it's a ruination (and yes, dammit, that's a word) of innocence. And funnily enough, it's a CONSTANT ruination of innocence by someone who used to capitalize like a mo-fo on innocencism (also a word). She had that shit down to an ART. And yet on her blog, every day, all the time, ALL THE TIME, I see it. The ruination of innocencism.


*breathing heavily through nostrils in disgust with pursed lips while glaring*

When I was in middle school for chrissakes, (YOU HEAR ME? MIDDLE SCHOOL), I tried to come up with something that would define me for my very first email address. All my other friends had cool email names like...oh i don't know, I can't remember that far back, but just know that they were cool and I was under a lot of pressure. You can't work too hard in getting that email address just right. It sticks with you forever (apparently, as I have learned...I was wise for a middle schooler, but I digress). Anyway, I agonized over what name to go with. It had to be the perfect blend of not getting made fun of. So I went simple. I picked my initials. MJR. And the instrument I played in band. FLT. Flute.


See the difference? MJRFLT is NOT the same as MJRFLRT. Get it? Do you get it?

Okay, I'm okay now. I'm just saying. I'm sensitive about it, get off my nuts. Because out of all the things in my life that I didn't do for attention, THIS WAS ONE OF THEM! And there is only like three. So please don't take this away from me. Please?

And if you don't, then I will spread internet rumors that catkins is not related to your name at all, but is because you speak in a high pitched baby voice all the time and love all things that are cuddly-wuddly and refer to yourself not only as catkins, but mommykins and have also used terms like kissy-poo. And you wear guady red lipstick WAY outside the lip lines. And blue eye shadow...yeah, blue eye shadow. And you suffer from TBHS. AND you have cankles.

I'll do it.

*side bar-this post was written with nothing but love and affection. the person i am referring to in the blog and I go way back...well, apparently not middle school way back, because then she'd know the story behind the mjrflt thing, and i wouldn't be having this break down at work over it, but whatever, the point is, she knows i gots nuthin' but luv for her. and if she doesn't, then she should, because she should definitely know me well enough to know that if i really WAS angry about the above, then i wouldn't have said anything, i would have simply forked her yard...or put visine in her coffee.... :)

Repeat mistake

Augh! I did it again! That whole not blogging because there was so much to blog then doubling up on the blogging duty each day that passes! Okay, slate clean, here we go:

I actually don't have a whole lot of commentary right now. First of all, it's 8 in the morning. And who really wants to read what others have to say at 8am. I can guarantee it's not going to be filled with sunshine and roses. Second, ...wait, I did mention that whole 8am things right? That should be enough explanation.

Also, I'm in the midst of a project at work which I see as kind of stupid, yet I am obsessive about going above and beyond about it. If a degree from an Ivy League school means that you are incapable of evaluating already prepared information and you get to give orders to others about rearranging already prepared READILY AVAILABLE information, than I think I could save a lot of people some money and time by telling you to drop the hell out now. Yeah, sure, it means a lot of money, and sure, maybe it looks great on a resume, but in the real world, well, it will also get your ass kicked. And at the very least, those people that don't get paid a lot of money, and live in their small houses, and live their poor little lives? They will make fun of you, then pour urine in your gas tank while setting fire to your mail box. And fork your yard.

Told ya....8am...not the best time to talk to me. I've got parents, siblings, and an ex-husband who could have told you that.



This guy is my idol.


Props to Daily Coyote for the link.



Made me cry at work.

Fortunately, I have this nifty eye infection to blame for the tears rolling down my cheeks. Sah-WEET!


Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

Okay, how stupid is this for rationale:

I got back to SATX on Tuesday, and every day I meant to blog. I did..seriously! Anyway, I meant to blog, and each day, I didn't blog, because I had a lot to blog about and that meant it would take a lot of time, so I didn't, because I didn't have a lot of time, and with each day, I added a day of blogging to it, which meant my blog-load doubled, then tripled, get the point. So I didn't blog. Until now, where I'm to the point where I say fuck it, I'm starting anew. With a recap. A short recap. And here it is:

Went to KCMO. Saw the fam, had a great time, and it made me realize how utterly and desperately alone I am down here. Got back. Went to work, and that made me realize how utterly and desperately exasperating my job can be. Thursday morning took my car to the paint and body shop to get it appraised, and will be dropping it off for repair Tuesday. Thursday afternoon went to a financial dude and got The Smoodge enrolled in a Coverdell account. Friday, one of my bosses walked around the office with the head of a burro off of a pinata on his head. He posed for a picture at the big boss's desk, which was then sent to the boss letting him know this was his fill in during daddy-detail (he just had his very own smoodge, only a boy). Funny, but not at all productive. Saturday, woke up and both my eyes boycotted my body, so I drove myself and The Smoodge haphazardly to the optometrist, who let me know I have a rowdy infection in both eyes, and that I have to administer drops every hour and a creme every night for the next seven days. Yeah. That's not going to hinder any activity. Excuse me, can we pause this awesome time so I can put my eyeballs back in my head? Thanks, appreciate it. Sunday, went swimming in the morning, where I managed to get a sunburn (hey, thanks for letting me know the sun is more potent at 10am...), and upset my eyes again. Went back inside, discovered that my insurance may not pay for the optometrist yesterday, and was putting drops in my eyes when The Smoodge took my glasses and broke the arm off. Broke. It. Off. And I can't go get a new pair because my prescription ran out at the beginning of the year, and I can't get an eye exam because my EYES ARE SICK. So right now, my eyes are NOT my favorite body part. And to top it all off, somehow, The Smoodge had hidden the remote control and my small camera. I have found the camera (at the bottom of the dirty clothes hamper). I have not found the remote. Do you know how stupid it is to operate a DVR WITHOUT the remote? Do you also know how stupid it is to have a 20 month old hide something in a 700 sq ft apartment that a 27 year old cannot find?

So there you are, my last couple of weeks in a nut shell. I posted some shots of KCMO on my Google picture album. And now I'm caught up.


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On vaca until the 8th.