I have sprouts!
Look close - these will be flowers
herbs and basil
Tomatoes
Friday, April 02, 2004
Toe Jam
Yesterday was such a crazy day. I dropped K off at work because I had to take the little people to an appointment in the afternoon. After dropping K off I drove through McDonald's for breakfast for us to share. When I got home I started splitting the breakfast among us and after I got Super Girl's plate ready I picked Cabbage Patch up off the little chair she was standing on. When I did that I knocked over the chair and it fell right on the toes of my left foot. Oh my goodness... That was the most pain. It took almost two hours before my toes stopped throbbing. By then it was nearly nap time and
I hadn't gotten jack done around the house. My toe was so sensitive it hurt to walk. Anyway, after naps I got
the kids ready and we left to go to the appointment. It took way to long for the appointment. I took the
kids to the potty while we were there and Cabbage Patch accidentally stepped on my toes! I almost cried. We got home about 4 pm and I had to leave by 4:30 to pick up K. His work was doing a 'team building' exercise and they had gone to bowl across town. Ugh. Even though we had lived in that area for 5 years prior to Super Girl being born I could not remember where the place was. I didn't get to him until 6:30 pm! (and that was only after stopping to ask directions and Super Girl having to use the potty, me having to tell shield her from cars as she peed in public because nothing was open that had a rest room...) Only an hour after the event had ended. *sigh* By this time I was cranky. My toe hurt, Cabbage Patch had wet her pants and the kids were being restless. I started getting a sinus headache when we got home also. I took some medicine for the pain (toe and headache) about 9 pm. And intended to go to bed but decided to stay up until I got sleepy from the medication. I stayed up until 11:30 pm.
Today is a much better day. My headache is gone, my toe ache is gone also.
Here are pictures of my toe
You can see the blue of the bruising right along the cuticle - other than that line, it looks normal... Until...
The polish is gone!(which actually hurt quite a bit) Nasty bruise, my toe nail feels like it's on to tight, but not hurting that much anymore.
Yesterday was such a crazy day. I dropped K off at work because I had to take the little people to an appointment in the afternoon. After dropping K off I drove through McDonald's for breakfast for us to share. When I got home I started splitting the breakfast among us and after I got Super Girl's plate ready I picked Cabbage Patch up off the little chair she was standing on. When I did that I knocked over the chair and it fell right on the toes of my left foot. Oh my goodness... That was the most pain. It took almost two hours before my toes stopped throbbing. By then it was nearly nap time and
I hadn't gotten jack done around the house. My toe was so sensitive it hurt to walk. Anyway, after naps I got
the kids ready and we left to go to the appointment. It took way to long for the appointment. I took the
kids to the potty while we were there and Cabbage Patch accidentally stepped on my toes! I almost cried. We got home about 4 pm and I had to leave by 4:30 to pick up K. His work was doing a 'team building' exercise and they had gone to bowl across town. Ugh. Even though we had lived in that area for 5 years prior to Super Girl being born I could not remember where the place was. I didn't get to him until 6:30 pm! (and that was only after stopping to ask directions and Super Girl having to use the potty, me having to tell shield her from cars as she peed in public because nothing was open that had a rest room...) Only an hour after the event had ended. *sigh* By this time I was cranky. My toe hurt, Cabbage Patch had wet her pants and the kids were being restless. I started getting a sinus headache when we got home also. I took some medicine for the pain (toe and headache) about 9 pm. And intended to go to bed but decided to stay up until I got sleepy from the medication. I stayed up until 11:30 pm.
Today is a much better day. My headache is gone, my toe ache is gone also.
Here are pictures of my toe
You can see the blue of the bruising right along the cuticle - other than that line, it looks normal... Until...
The polish is gone!(which actually hurt quite a bit) Nasty bruise, my toe nail feels like it's on to tight, but not hurting that much anymore.
Thursday, April 01, 2004
Lack Of Motivation Or Pain?
Going to be a busy day today, I took K to work, stopped by The Golden Arches to get a 'healthy' breakfast for me and the little people to share. At home while dividing the breakfast among us a child's wooden chair got knocked over and smacked my toes! OUCH! OUCH! OUCH! That was at 8:45 am and they just now stopped throbbing. No I didn't break anything, it just hurts. The chair actually hit right across my toe nails of my big toe and the toe next to it, so my toe nail feels like it's on a bit to tight right now. I have many many things to be doing today but it hurts to walk much. I'm being a big baby, yes I know. My toes hurt!
Going to be a busy day today, I took K to work, stopped by The Golden Arches to get a 'healthy' breakfast for me and the little people to share. At home while dividing the breakfast among us a child's wooden chair got knocked over and smacked my toes! OUCH! OUCH! OUCH! That was at 8:45 am and they just now stopped throbbing. No I didn't break anything, it just hurts. The chair actually hit right across my toe nails of my big toe and the toe next to it, so my toe nail feels like it's on a bit to tight right now. I have many many things to be doing today but it hurts to walk much. I'm being a big baby, yes I know. My toes hurt!
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
St. Judy
Have I mentioned that I'm a saint? Well not a REAL saint, but I am practically consider a saint in the gay circles K associates with. I like that. I'm a saint (notice the cool rainbow aura around my head). Maybe all the voice I hear in my head are prayers being sent to me requesting intersession.... hmmm... I guess I should listen more. Ya know ADD sucks when you can't even pay attention to the voices in your head.
St. Judy. I like that. I need to get cards printed.
Have I mentioned that I'm a saint? Well not a REAL saint, but I am practically consider a saint in the gay circles K associates with. I like that. I'm a saint (notice the cool rainbow aura around my head). Maybe all the voice I hear in my head are prayers being sent to me requesting intersession.... hmmm... I guess I should listen more. Ya know ADD sucks when you can't even pay attention to the voices in your head.
St. Judy. I like that. I need to get cards printed.
Passion Statements
I was perusing the blogs I obsessively read on a daily basis. Some people have such strong political views, I don’t necessarily agree with them and thing some of their views are down right inaccurate, but I admire their passion and I’d refrain from leaving comments as I know they don’t give a flip about my differing opinion and I respect their right to say whatever the fuck they want on their blog. Other people write deep stirring post about their inner most emotions. I’m often in awe of them being able to share something so personal on such a public forum, but I suppose the internet affords one a measure of anonymity that other forums really don’t, still it takes courage to bear one’s soul so to speak – even virtually. Some people write insightful social commentary and rail against the wrongs in society and the injustice to the downtrodden. So much energy and passion goes into their missives that I oft times need a rest after a read. And then there are the people who seek to impart some grains of sagely advice and worldly wisdom, usually it’s moving and profound (otherwise I wouldn’t keep reading their freaking blog). They are all different, yet they all have the same thing – passion. They are all written with great passion. And me? I write for a laugh most of the time. None of the above (vaguely) referenced blogs would ever have a post about having their pedometer clipped to their lavender string bikini undies, nor would they ever discuss the sleazy-ish details of their love life or mention the gay porn calendar that was received as a lovely gift from the spouse. Nope just me. I always go for the laugh – even in real life. I’m incapable of prolonged periods of seriousness. Even in an intimate setting (sex) I have to get a laugh at SOME time (not during mind you, but definitely between).
I wonder if I should try harder to be more serious
I was perusing the blogs I obsessively read on a daily basis. Some people have such strong political views, I don’t necessarily agree with them and thing some of their views are down right inaccurate, but I admire their passion and I’d refrain from leaving comments as I know they don’t give a flip about my differing opinion and I respect their right to say whatever the fuck they want on their blog. Other people write deep stirring post about their inner most emotions. I’m often in awe of them being able to share something so personal on such a public forum, but I suppose the internet affords one a measure of anonymity that other forums really don’t, still it takes courage to bear one’s soul so to speak – even virtually. Some people write insightful social commentary and rail against the wrongs in society and the injustice to the downtrodden. So much energy and passion goes into their missives that I oft times need a rest after a read. And then there are the people who seek to impart some grains of sagely advice and worldly wisdom, usually it’s moving and profound (otherwise I wouldn’t keep reading their freaking blog). They are all different, yet they all have the same thing – passion. They are all written with great passion. And me? I write for a laugh most of the time. None of the above (vaguely) referenced blogs would ever have a post about having their pedometer clipped to their lavender string bikini undies, nor would they ever discuss the sleazy-ish details of their love life or mention the gay porn calendar that was received as a lovely gift from the spouse. Nope just me. I always go for the laugh – even in real life. I’m incapable of prolonged periods of seriousness. Even in an intimate setting (sex) I have to get a laugh at SOME time (not during mind you, but definitely between).
I wonder if I should try harder to be more serious
My Results
Here is the result of your ACL 100 Point Purity Test.
You answered "yes" to 77 of 100 questions, making you 23.0% sexually pure (77.0% sexually corrupt); that is, you are 23.0% pure in the sex domain.
Your Weirdness Factor (AKA Uniqueness Factor) is 41%, based on a comparison of your test results with 879613 other submissions for this test.
The average purity for this test is 56.5%.
HAHAHAHAHAHA! I don't think anyone is surprised by these results!
Go take the Test for yourself.
Here is the result of your ACL 100 Point Purity Test.
You answered "yes" to 77 of 100 questions, making you 23.0% sexually pure (77.0% sexually corrupt); that is, you are 23.0% pure in the sex domain.
Your Weirdness Factor (AKA Uniqueness Factor) is 41%, based on a comparison of your test results with 879613 other submissions for this test.
The average purity for this test is 56.5%.
HAHAHAHAHAHA! I don't think anyone is surprised by these results!
Go take the Test for yourself.
Sucking and Sucking Good
That's what I think about not remembering to put on my pedometer until the morning is almost gone. I'd already been up and down the stairs a half dozen times, had hung the tiny terrorists... uh... I mean the little people's... clothes back up in their closet and then I remembered that I should put my fucking pedometer on. So down the stairs, clip it to the pocket on my dress and back up to (ugh) clean the cat litter. Now I'm looking at my pedometer and I'm disgusted that it's not even over 1,000 steps! WTF???? I think that if this bitch isn't clipped on where it stays absolutely upright (as in it isn't hanging on the saggy pocket of my linen house dress - yeah I look like a fucking house wife, what of it ) then it doesn't register every step. Gawd Darn it! So like the dork that I am, I have clipped it to my underwear. Yes my panties. I have a talking pedometer clipped to my lavender string bikinis (yeah I know, an image you didn't really need). I can't help but wonder if this talking pedometer will (a) freak me out when it speaks from my panties, as I'm unaccustomed to anything mechanical speaking to me from such a local (b) if it will start talking to me and telling me more than just how many steps I have taken (as in, 'Damn Bitch! That's the lamest shaving job I've ever seen! Yo man's not gonna wanna stick his face in a cactus patch - go get that razor again!' or 'Good Gawd! Talk about ratty-assed panties! Spend a buck already and buy a new pair! Damn, didn't you have these back in high school?' ), which I'm not sure I can take that kind of criticism right now (besides my panties are not ratty or old - not this pair anyway). OK enough about conversations from my underwear - I'm off to finish the laundry.
That's what I think about not remembering to put on my pedometer until the morning is almost gone. I'd already been up and down the stairs a half dozen times, had hung the tiny terrorists... uh... I mean the little people's... clothes back up in their closet and then I remembered that I should put my fucking pedometer on. So down the stairs, clip it to the pocket on my dress and back up to (ugh) clean the cat litter. Now I'm looking at my pedometer and I'm disgusted that it's not even over 1,000 steps! WTF???? I think that if this bitch isn't clipped on where it stays absolutely upright (as in it isn't hanging on the saggy pocket of my linen house dress - yeah I look like a fucking house wife, what of it ) then it doesn't register every step. Gawd Darn it! So like the dork that I am, I have clipped it to my underwear. Yes my panties. I have a talking pedometer clipped to my lavender string bikinis (yeah I know, an image you didn't really need). I can't help but wonder if this talking pedometer will (a) freak me out when it speaks from my panties, as I'm unaccustomed to anything mechanical speaking to me from such a local (b) if it will start talking to me and telling me more than just how many steps I have taken (as in, 'Damn Bitch! That's the lamest shaving job I've ever seen! Yo man's not gonna wanna stick his face in a cactus patch - go get that razor again!' or 'Good Gawd! Talk about ratty-assed panties! Spend a buck already and buy a new pair! Damn, didn't you have these back in high school?' ), which I'm not sure I can take that kind of criticism right now (besides my panties are not ratty or old - not this pair anyway). OK enough about conversations from my underwear - I'm off to finish the laundry.
Dirty Laundry
That's what I'm doing today. The laundry. Woohoo. What fun. I'm finally getting the laundry caught up. Damn it didn't take long for it to get backed up.
I think I've managed to get most of my laundry done. The little people seem to have mountains of clothes. Ugh. There are times I wish we were part of a tribe living deep in the rainforest and wore nothing but leaves and grass. Knowing my luck I'd end up being the one who had to pick up all the leaves and grass off the bathroom floor. Laundry is just my curse.
That's what I'm doing today. The laundry. Woohoo. What fun. I'm finally getting the laundry caught up. Damn it didn't take long for it to get backed up.
I think I've managed to get most of my laundry done. The little people seem to have mountains of clothes. Ugh. There are times I wish we were part of a tribe living deep in the rainforest and wore nothing but leaves and grass. Knowing my luck I'd end up being the one who had to pick up all the leaves and grass off the bathroom floor. Laundry is just my curse.
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Men Again
Apparently something is aligned in the cosmos that is making men from my past contact me. Friday was the call from dickweed, Saturday was an e-mail from the Marine and Sunday was a call from my most recent Sancho. I'd be lieing if I said that I did not enjoy the attention, I do, I just really, really don't want to be with any of them. I am so crazy about XXXX. We talk just about every day. I just wish we could see each other more often. Him living so far away really sucks. Dickweed and the Marine haven't bugged me anymore but my former Sancho keeps calling. Ugh. The more he calls the harder it is just to not see him. He's very nice and he's fun to be with, just no love there. Must resist urge to be a slut! Ugh.
Apparently something is aligned in the cosmos that is making men from my past contact me. Friday was the call from dickweed, Saturday was an e-mail from the Marine and Sunday was a call from my most recent Sancho. I'd be lieing if I said that I did not enjoy the attention, I do, I just really, really don't want to be with any of them. I am so crazy about XXXX. We talk just about every day. I just wish we could see each other more often. Him living so far away really sucks. Dickweed and the Marine haven't bugged me anymore but my former Sancho keeps calling. Ugh. The more he calls the harder it is just to not see him. He's very nice and he's fun to be with, just no love there. Must resist urge to be a slut! Ugh.
The Calendar
K brought a gift back for me from his gay event. A calendar. A calendar of men (gay men of course). It gives me giggles because the men are *ahem* nekked. I asked him where on earth was I supposed to hang the calendar since I do NOT want the little people to see it. He suggested my bed room which got laughter then he said "The closet." Well why didn't I think of that, hang the calendar in the closet - where else would I find gay men! HA!
K brought a gift back for me from his gay event. A calendar. A calendar of men (gay men of course). It gives me giggles because the men are *ahem* nekked. I asked him where on earth was I supposed to hang the calendar since I do NOT want the little people to see it. He suggested my bed room which got laughter then he said "The closet." Well why didn't I think of that, hang the calendar in the closet - where else would I find gay men! HA!
Monday, March 29, 2004
For A Good Laugh
We all need a good laugh, XXXX sent this to me. I really did laugh out loud on this. Go, watch, laugh... you'll thank me later. (this is safe for work, no nekked people)
We all need a good laugh, XXXX sent this to me. I really did laugh out loud on this. Go, watch, laugh... you'll thank me later. (this is safe for work, no nekked people)
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