I Must Like To Suffer
Last night I made a big pot of chili. mmmmm I love chili, especially HOT chili. Chili does NOT like me - well tomato products in general don't agree with my stomach and tend to make me have to take several acid blocker tablets, expecially hot food causes me to do the same thing. Last night I put peppers and hot sauce on my yummy chili. It was so good I could almost feel it burn when it hit my stomach. I had two bowls of chili... then a handful of acid blockers. It was a good night.
ps - I just had some left over chili and a salad for lunch. I'm a glutton for punishment. Anyone wanna spank me now? ;o)
Friday, February 18, 2005
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Winter Stash
Apparently one of my children is part squirrel. Someone has been collecting and storing acorns... in the laundry of all places. I keep finding acorns in the washer and dryer. I think I need to explain to them that they are suposed to burry the nuts OUTSIDE, not IN the laundry. Although, they certainly do come out quite shiny after a trip through the washer and dryer.
Apparently one of my children is part squirrel. Someone has been collecting and storing acorns... in the laundry of all places. I keep finding acorns in the washer and dryer. I think I need to explain to them that they are suposed to burry the nuts OUTSIDE, not IN the laundry. Although, they certainly do come out quite shiny after a trip through the washer and dryer.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Toddler Speak
Cabbage Patch has reached the stage of substituting words she knows for words she doesn't. Mostly similar sounding words. It's funny. Yesterday while clearing out the 'garden' she found a bunch of rolly-pollys and proceded to call them ravioli's and refused to call them anything else. This morning she pointed to some cocoons on a tree and called them racoons. heh.
Cabbage Patch has reached the stage of substituting words she knows for words she doesn't. Mostly similar sounding words. It's funny. Yesterday while clearing out the 'garden' she found a bunch of rolly-pollys and proceded to call them ravioli's and refused to call them anything else. This morning she pointed to some cocoons on a tree and called them racoons. heh.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Clubbin' For The Retard
Or
Why I Hate Pantyhose
That would be me. I went out on Saturday night with some of my rennie friends. Now mind you I haven't been clubbing in YEARS and I ALWAYS feel like I'm dressed wrong and just being the BIGGEST dork when I do go.
I consult Shan about what to wear because of my dork factor. I decide I would wear my boots with my skirt - not such a good idea really, but the boots are very cool.
Now I never wear pantyhose, I swore of them the day I discovered stockings (thigh highs). Pantyhose are just horible. They fit me funny, make me too hot and pinch after a while. And getting them on... well that's an ordeal in it's self. I planned to wear stockings but for some fucked up reason I could NOT find two that matched. I found a sheer black one, a sheer white one and a sheer brown one. Fuck. In searching for a mate to any one of thoes listed above I found a pair of black pantyhose, still in the package. They must have been at least 4 years old. But I was desperate and it was getting late. I shoved my fat ass into the pantyhose and briefly thought "this is a bad idea, these things suck" but dismissed that because I wanted to wear my boots and I couldn't without stockings or such.
Shan and Drew picked me up at 9:30 pm, we headed to John and Heidi's - a 30 minute drive. By then I was starting to be pinched by the evil things. Off to the club, we get there about 11 pm. As I walk from the parking lot to the club I feel the evil fuckers sliding down from their position of being up over my ass to down below my panty line. Fuck. I'm standing in line trying to discreetly adjust them and it's not working (the adjusting part, not the discreet part). I go right to the bathroom when we get in as I don't want them to soon be around my knees and be worrying about them hanging at my ankles. My intent when I entered the stall was to hike them back up and suffer through the evening but sanity smacked me and I figured that I needed to get rid of the horrific pantyhose. My solution... I ripped the hose right above my boots and tossed the remains of the pantyhose in the stall. I was FREE! Woohoo!
The rest of the evening was interesting to say the least - the music sucked and at one point there was some weird black guy dancing next to me/on me. The others found this desperately funny. The drinks were cheap which kind of made up for the $10 cover charge *choke!* *cough!*
We left the club about 1:30 am (me, John & Heidi had enough of the crappy music) and headed for BREAKFAST! Where I had a fucking $2.99 cup of fucking coffee! DAMN!!! If I had know it was THAT much I would have had 4 or 5 of them! Shan promised that the next time we would do the po' folks route for breakfast.
After all was said and done, I got to bed at 4:30 am and managed to be at work at 8:30 am.
A fun evening was had by all.
Or
Why I Hate Pantyhose
That would be me. I went out on Saturday night with some of my rennie friends. Now mind you I haven't been clubbing in YEARS and I ALWAYS feel like I'm dressed wrong and just being the BIGGEST dork when I do go.
I consult Shan about what to wear because of my dork factor. I decide I would wear my boots with my skirt - not such a good idea really, but the boots are very cool.
Now I never wear pantyhose, I swore of them the day I discovered stockings (thigh highs). Pantyhose are just horible. They fit me funny, make me too hot and pinch after a while. And getting them on... well that's an ordeal in it's self. I planned to wear stockings but for some fucked up reason I could NOT find two that matched. I found a sheer black one, a sheer white one and a sheer brown one. Fuck. In searching for a mate to any one of thoes listed above I found a pair of black pantyhose, still in the package. They must have been at least 4 years old. But I was desperate and it was getting late. I shoved my fat ass into the pantyhose and briefly thought "this is a bad idea, these things suck" but dismissed that because I wanted to wear my boots and I couldn't without stockings or such.
Shan and Drew picked me up at 9:30 pm, we headed to John and Heidi's - a 30 minute drive. By then I was starting to be pinched by the evil things. Off to the club, we get there about 11 pm. As I walk from the parking lot to the club I feel the evil fuckers sliding down from their position of being up over my ass to down below my panty line. Fuck. I'm standing in line trying to discreetly adjust them and it's not working (the adjusting part, not the discreet part). I go right to the bathroom when we get in as I don't want them to soon be around my knees and be worrying about them hanging at my ankles. My intent when I entered the stall was to hike them back up and suffer through the evening but sanity smacked me and I figured that I needed to get rid of the horrific pantyhose. My solution... I ripped the hose right above my boots and tossed the remains of the pantyhose in the stall. I was FREE! Woohoo!
The rest of the evening was interesting to say the least - the music sucked and at one point there was some weird black guy dancing next to me/on me. The others found this desperately funny. The drinks were cheap which kind of made up for the $10 cover charge *choke!* *cough!*
We left the club about 1:30 am (me, John & Heidi had enough of the crappy music) and headed for BREAKFAST! Where I had a fucking $2.99 cup of fucking coffee! DAMN!!! If I had know it was THAT much I would have had 4 or 5 of them! Shan promised that the next time we would do the po' folks route for breakfast.
After all was said and done, I got to bed at 4:30 am and managed to be at work at 8:30 am.
A fun evening was had by all.
Super Girl's Day
Before I start, I must appologize for my absence to the three people who regularly frequent this page and have come to rely (heh... funny) on this page for entertainment (really just to gawk at the train wreck of my life and be amazed at the idiotic things that come out of my head, but that's cool too), I have been busy... or was it just lazy? Whatever.
Sunday was the anniversary of the birth of my oldest progeny. She turned 6. So in true Mommy Blog form I will indulge in telling her BIRTH STORY! Yeah I know, you don't really give a shit, but I feel obligated to do this. ;o)
Friday February 12, 1999 K and I got into a disussion on whether or not my water (as in the stuff around the baby, not the glass on my night stand) was leaking or not. I was 5 days late at this point (and HUGE) so we decided to hold off on going to work and call the Dr. office. At 8 am I was standing in my kitchen about to call the doctors office when I had my first REAL contraction. I was so excited - I told K, who was also excited - then I called the doctors office. We went to my doctor and saw the PA on duty who informed me that my water was not broken, but I was in fact in labor and dialated to 4 cm, to go on home and wait.
K and I were soooo excited. We got out of the doctors office at 11 AM and decided to go to lunch. My contractions were mild so I was thinking that this would be EASY. Little did I know. Anyway, we go to lunch at Steak Kountry, a little hole in the wall near where we lived. The funniest part was the waitress asking when I was due and me saying that I was in labor right then, her eyes got as big as saucers and she said "Why are you here???", because I was hungry!
At 11 pm that night I was STILL in labor (and totally fucking tired of it). We went to bed. I got up at midnight to take a shower since the 'easy contractions' I was having were now no longer so easy... and my back hurt. Back to bed around 1 am, up again 2 am for another hot shower. I wake K at 2:30 am to time contractions (actually just because I didn't want to be awake and misreble alone, he needed to be awake and misreble with me). At the MOMENT I was finally having contractions 5 minutes apart, I told K to call the hospital, that we were headed in - I was READY for this to be over. I called D and told her to meet us at the hospital, woke my grandmother to tell her I was FINALLY leaving. It was 3 am, Saturday February 13th. I was no longer happy or excited, I was irritable, sleep deprived, bitchy and anxious to get this the fuck over with.
Sometime after we checked into the hospital K & D told the nurses I hadn't sleept much in the past three days (which is true) and I was offered some drugs to help me sleep as according to them I wasn't very far along (they threatened to send me home but D told them that was a no go since I was 45 minutes from the hospital). I accepted the drugs at the urging of K and D. The rest of this shit is just fuzzy because of all the drugs. D or K can correct some of this shit someday.
I was now whacked out on drugs so I would fall asleep while talking, waking to have a really really painful contraction. I think D painted my nails and tried to play cards with me. I believe I was evil and psychotic when I had contractions yelling at people to just talk to me to distract but don't touch me (in the end I think K was reading me things from his game books). D left at some point and smuggled in contraband food - I remember french fries and chocolate milk. Thousands of people were in and out of my room, I would not be surprised if every janitor in the building was in there at one time - all the while I'm laying in the bed and at various times flat on my back with my cooch exposed. It was about 9 am they broke my waters in hopes of speeding up labor - which didn't work. 10 am I was offered petocin to move it along - at this point I BEGGED for an epidural - fuck going natural, I was in PAIN. The man who makes things happy showed up and jabbed me in the back. At some point the OB on shift came in, stuck his arm up my cooch all the way to the elbow, said something about me being dialated to a 6 or 7, that it was going to be a while and he was going to his kid's soccer game - see ya! I wished for a knife to jab into his forehead at that moment, but alas that is not typical equipment in a labor room. More dozing, playing cards, babbling incoherently and cursing K for getting me pregnant. At some point my epidural wore off completly on one side causing me GREAT pain - then there was the nurse telling me I wasn't feeling pain, it was pressure - bitch was argueing with me about what I was feeling! Then I started getting all crazy and shit. D when and reemed that nurses ass and got a new nurse in who turned up the drugs. I swear I saw angel wings and a halo on that nurse.
I had to push a long time, that kid was HUGE and NOT coming out, her soulder was caught on my pelvic bone. The doctor used the vacume to get her out but that didn't work, he finally used the salad tongs (forceps) which freaked me out because they are FUCKING HUGE! She popped out then and when the doctor held her up she had her little hand up so I said "Look, she's waveing at me!" which caused everyone to laugh at me, hey I was still whacked out on drugs. But there she was at 6:09 pm weighing 9 lbs and 9 oz, 21.5 inches long. No wonder I was so bitchy while pregnant.
AND 6 years later...
It's her birthday and she's sooooo excited. After naps she requested her birthday cake and wanted to decorate. So it was off to Super WallyWorld to procure a birthday cake, some birthday decorations and a birthday feast fit for a 6 year old. It was fish sticks and french fries for dinner and a cute white cake with big hot pink and yellow flowers decorating it. The cake had SOOOO much frosting on it I thought I was going to go into a diabetic coma half way through my piece. Super Girl was quite happy.
Party Part 2
Sometimes I feel sorry for Super Girl that I birthed her the day before Valentines (hey I was ready to have that baby in January - she was just being stuborn), but for now it's great for her because there was a class Valentine's party already scheduled. I had gotten the okay to bring birthday cupcakes to the class, so she got to hijack the Valentine's party and make it her birthday party. Later in life it's going to suck for her when she has a cheap ass boyfriend who doesn't want to have to spring for a Valentine's present AND a birthday present. I'm so sorry child of mine.
And the fun doesn't end there, since she's the OLDEST grandchild on K's side of the family, there will be ONE final gathering to celebrate her birthday. She's so spoiled.
Okay enough about the offspring, I've done my maternal duty, it's back to talking about ME!!
Before I start, I must appologize for my absence to the three people who regularly frequent this page and have come to rely (heh... funny) on this page for entertainment (really just to gawk at the train wreck of my life and be amazed at the idiotic things that come out of my head, but that's cool too), I have been busy... or was it just lazy? Whatever.
Sunday was the anniversary of the birth of my oldest progeny. She turned 6. So in true Mommy Blog form I will indulge in telling her BIRTH STORY! Yeah I know, you don't really give a shit, but I feel obligated to do this. ;o)
Friday February 12, 1999 K and I got into a disussion on whether or not my water (as in the stuff around the baby, not the glass on my night stand) was leaking or not. I was 5 days late at this point (and HUGE) so we decided to hold off on going to work and call the Dr. office. At 8 am I was standing in my kitchen about to call the doctors office when I had my first REAL contraction. I was so excited - I told K, who was also excited - then I called the doctors office. We went to my doctor and saw the PA on duty who informed me that my water was not broken, but I was in fact in labor and dialated to 4 cm, to go on home and wait.
K and I were soooo excited. We got out of the doctors office at 11 AM and decided to go to lunch. My contractions were mild so I was thinking that this would be EASY. Little did I know. Anyway, we go to lunch at Steak Kountry, a little hole in the wall near where we lived. The funniest part was the waitress asking when I was due and me saying that I was in labor right then, her eyes got as big as saucers and she said "Why are you here???", because I was hungry!
At 11 pm that night I was STILL in labor (and totally fucking tired of it). We went to bed. I got up at midnight to take a shower since the 'easy contractions' I was having were now no longer so easy... and my back hurt. Back to bed around 1 am, up again 2 am for another hot shower. I wake K at 2:30 am to time contractions (actually just because I didn't want to be awake and misreble alone, he needed to be awake and misreble with me). At the MOMENT I was finally having contractions 5 minutes apart, I told K to call the hospital, that we were headed in - I was READY for this to be over. I called D and told her to meet us at the hospital, woke my grandmother to tell her I was FINALLY leaving. It was 3 am, Saturday February 13th. I was no longer happy or excited, I was irritable, sleep deprived, bitchy and anxious to get this the fuck over with.
Sometime after we checked into the hospital K & D told the nurses I hadn't sleept much in the past three days (which is true) and I was offered some drugs to help me sleep as according to them I wasn't very far along (they threatened to send me home but D told them that was a no go since I was 45 minutes from the hospital). I accepted the drugs at the urging of K and D. The rest of this shit is just fuzzy because of all the drugs. D or K can correct some of this shit someday.
I was now whacked out on drugs so I would fall asleep while talking, waking to have a really really painful contraction. I think D painted my nails and tried to play cards with me. I believe I was evil and psychotic when I had contractions yelling at people to just talk to me to distract but don't touch me (in the end I think K was reading me things from his game books). D left at some point and smuggled in contraband food - I remember french fries and chocolate milk. Thousands of people were in and out of my room, I would not be surprised if every janitor in the building was in there at one time - all the while I'm laying in the bed and at various times flat on my back with my cooch exposed. It was about 9 am they broke my waters in hopes of speeding up labor - which didn't work. 10 am I was offered petocin to move it along - at this point I BEGGED for an epidural - fuck going natural, I was in PAIN. The man who makes things happy showed up and jabbed me in the back. At some point the OB on shift came in, stuck his arm up my cooch all the way to the elbow, said something about me being dialated to a 6 or 7, that it was going to be a while and he was going to his kid's soccer game - see ya! I wished for a knife to jab into his forehead at that moment, but alas that is not typical equipment in a labor room. More dozing, playing cards, babbling incoherently and cursing K for getting me pregnant. At some point my epidural wore off completly on one side causing me GREAT pain - then there was the nurse telling me I wasn't feeling pain, it was pressure - bitch was argueing with me about what I was feeling! Then I started getting all crazy and shit. D when and reemed that nurses ass and got a new nurse in who turned up the drugs. I swear I saw angel wings and a halo on that nurse.
I had to push a long time, that kid was HUGE and NOT coming out, her soulder was caught on my pelvic bone. The doctor used the vacume to get her out but that didn't work, he finally used the salad tongs (forceps) which freaked me out because they are FUCKING HUGE! She popped out then and when the doctor held her up she had her little hand up so I said "Look, she's waveing at me!" which caused everyone to laugh at me, hey I was still whacked out on drugs. But there she was at 6:09 pm weighing 9 lbs and 9 oz, 21.5 inches long. No wonder I was so bitchy while pregnant.
AND 6 years later...
It's her birthday and she's sooooo excited. After naps she requested her birthday cake and wanted to decorate. So it was off to Super WallyWorld to procure a birthday cake, some birthday decorations and a birthday feast fit for a 6 year old. It was fish sticks and french fries for dinner and a cute white cake with big hot pink and yellow flowers decorating it. The cake had SOOOO much frosting on it I thought I was going to go into a diabetic coma half way through my piece. Super Girl was quite happy.
Party Part 2
Sometimes I feel sorry for Super Girl that I birthed her the day before Valentines (hey I was ready to have that baby in January - she was just being stuborn), but for now it's great for her because there was a class Valentine's party already scheduled. I had gotten the okay to bring birthday cupcakes to the class, so she got to hijack the Valentine's party and make it her birthday party. Later in life it's going to suck for her when she has a cheap ass boyfriend who doesn't want to have to spring for a Valentine's present AND a birthday present. I'm so sorry child of mine.
And the fun doesn't end there, since she's the OLDEST grandchild on K's side of the family, there will be ONE final gathering to celebrate her birthday. She's so spoiled.
Okay enough about the offspring, I've done my maternal duty, it's back to talking about ME!!
Something SCARY!!!
McDonalds has a new feature on their site that lets one find out the nutritional info for what they would order. Go check out the Bag A McMeal and be shocked by the numbers. I know I was - my typical order, which does NOT include french fries, came in with 670 calories, 26 grams of fat (2.5 being trans fat), 85 carbs and a staggering 1640 mg of sodium. A switch from regular coke to diet saves 150 calories and almost half the carbs. Lucky for me I rarely ever eat at McD's.
Go, check it out.. you may swear off ever eating at McD's again.
McDonalds has a new feature on their site that lets one find out the nutritional info for what they would order. Go check out the Bag A McMeal and be shocked by the numbers. I know I was - my typical order, which does NOT include french fries, came in with 670 calories, 26 grams of fat (2.5 being trans fat), 85 carbs and a staggering 1640 mg of sodium. A switch from regular coke to diet saves 150 calories and almost half the carbs. Lucky for me I rarely ever eat at McD's.
Go, check it out.. you may swear off ever eating at McD's again.
Monday, February 14, 2005
My pirate name is:
Red Mary Vane
Passion is a big part of your life, which makes sense for a pirate. You tend to blend into the background occaisionally, but that's okay, because it's much easier to sneak up on people and disembowel them that way. Arr!
Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.
I like that... Arrrrgh!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)