Coffee and Cake For Breakfast!

Wow, I'm soooooo hyper right now! It's almost like I've got a major sugar buzz going... wait... I probably do since I had coffee and CAKE for breakfast. Mmmmmm... Sugar! Sugar! Sugar!

It's not that busy of a day, but DAYUM I could take pictures all day if I stayed like this. I was just in someone's room and I was such a total spaz it was INSANE. Luckily they were just enjoying the FABULOUS photos I was taking and weren't scared by me.

Ya know, this totally hyper spazy me makes me wish I had started drinking coffee back when I worked as a secretary. Imagine how much fun I would have been in a meeting! I swear I almost feel like I'm viberating, and we all know how much I heart the viberating things.

Anyway, I'm going to Ben's tonight for the rennie gathering. Jill is going to pick me up and take me there - woohoo! I don't have to drive! Which means I could totally drink to excess except that I'm completly broke so that's just not going to happen. Not that I actually do that often, but I COULD if not financially restricted.

GAWD! Ya know what's just sad... I keep getting distracted by my finger nails. Yeah really. I was looking at my finger nails and then the next thing I know I realize I've been contemplating my finger nails for 5 minutes. Fuck! What was in that COFFEE? Or was it the vitamin I took this morning? Was that a vitamin or was it one of those things my sister gave me... the supliments.. what the fuck is in them? What are the suplimenting? What do I need to be suplimented with? Sanity maybe? I don't think that comes in a pill though! Oh wait... Prozac... Maybe that's what I need, a Prozac chaser.

Speaking of drugs, one time I was on a date with this GUY and he was asking where I work and I said at the hospital and then he said something about how I must have access to drugs then. I was all "Uh... I take baby photos, I have nothing to do with drugs." And well that was pretty much the end of that date.

The finger nails are shiny! I can't stop looking at them! Wow aren't you glad you aren't here with me now? I'd be talking your ear off. I have like 10 more minutes until my next appointment and I'm thinking maybe I need to run around the building a few times first. I definitly don't need another cup of COFFEE though.

Wow... maybe I should go... I'll delete this when I get home and am sane.

When The Morning Starts With Vomit, You Know It’s Only Going Down Hill From There

The Little People want to kill me. I’m sure of it. Why else would they continue to crawl in bed with me and disturb my sleep? Why else would they want me to walk around like a zombie all day from lack of restful sleep? I need to explain to them that it’s not a good idea to off a parental unit if there is no life insurance policy to collect on. Also it’s a bad idea to off the only person who can fix your hair and dress you in matching clothes so you don’t spend every waking moment looking like a cross between a circus clown and a homeless person. I am planning that speech for tonight right before they bring me the hot tea laced with cyanide as I very well may gulp that down and ask for another cup if my day keeps going like it is now.

Where to start…. Just a couple of hours after I went to bed last night I was joined by my two offspring claiming to have had bad dreams and need to sleep with me. Being that I had been sound asleep and it was cold I didn’t feel like walking up the stairs and insisting they get back in their own beds and therefore let them sleep with me. *sigh* About 4 am Cabbage Patch wakes and tells me that her tummy hurts, probably from eating too much pizza (she actually said that) and instead of going with my internal Mommy Alarm, I just rubbed her tummy for her and told her to go back to sleep. 30 minutes later my folly was evident as she sat up and proceeded to puke in the middle of my bed. Where in I awoke completely and told her to go to the bathroom and throw up there! As she scrambled to the bathroom she proceeded to hurl on my pillow, and my comforter and the afghan and the floor in the bathroom, but I don’t believe at any time she ever did puke in the toilet. (Funny thing is, she sat on the toilet and said “Mommy, they squeezing my tummy!” and I said “Yes honey, that’s called throwing up, that’s what happens.” She’s never thrown up before; this was all new to her.)

A couple of hours later it’s time to get up and get Super Girl ready for school. I turn off my alarm … and fall asleep until K walks into the room at just after 7 to see if we are awake. Shit, now we are late! What fun! AND it was raining this morning! Woohoo! Running in the rain to make sure the offspring catches her bus was invigorating!

Later, my normally abnormally quiet child Cabbage Patch, decided that right during an important phone call I needed to take and needed her to be QUIET for that she needed to sing and talk to her self. 10 minutes after I reschedule the call for a QUIETER time NEXT week, she’s sound asleep! Sheesh!

On top of all that my FAT pants are too tight today. My tax refund didn’t get deposited today due to who-the-fuck-even-knows, but it didn’t and since they only deposit once a week, looks like it won’t come until Friday of next week. And there’s a waiting period for a gun but not a carton of Hagen Daz! Why? Why? The ice cream will only make my ass bigger – but the gun, oh the gun could make the world a happier place one asshole at a time. Well whatever, I have no gun or ice cream around anyway.

*sigh* back to washing pukey bed sheets.

Bad Connection


I hate it when people call for K. Well actually I hate when the call for him then talk to me like I know the information they want. Here’s a recent phone call I took:

Phone: *Ring!* *Ring!*
Me: Hello?
Them: Hi, I’m uh.. calling for K.
Me: I’m sorry he’s not home right now, he’s at work.
Them: Well… um.. I’m (insert random name) from the (insert random political organization) and was wondering, blah, blah, blah (sorry I just kind of zoned out at this point).
Me: Ooooookay… He’s not home right now.
Them: Well can I give you my phone number and my cell number and my office number and my social security number and my mother’s maiden name and every other possible way of getting a hold of me including the frequency for the homing device that’s implanted in my brain for just such an instance as this because I’m such an important person that people need to be able to get in touch with me every moment of every day even if I’m in the crapper? (it was something close to that, remember I said I zoned out)
Me: Uhhhhh… K has to take his test tonight so I’m not sure when he’ll be home. Why don’t you e-mail him, as that’s probably the best way to get in touch with him (*left unsaid but thought loudly* because I’m not about to take a freaking phone message. If the number on the caller ID isn’t enough then you are just out of luck dude! Just because I can ANSWER a phone doesn’t mean I’m responsible enough to actually TAKE a phone message AND deliver it! Sheesh! I have a short attention span! Give me a break! Ohhhh! Look! Shiny!)
Them: Oh, yeah, that would work. What’s his e-mail address?
Me: It’s .
Them: Ummmmm…. *starts spelling it out really slowly*
Me: *thinking* oh for fuck’s sake, just write it down and get off the phone. *speaking* (spelling out the addy and listening to him repeat every letter after I do until I get to a Y at which he hesitates and acts confused) …Y like yodel.
Them: Y like yodel? *sounding confused like I just told him to have romantic relations with a rabid poodle*
Me: Y like yodel… *him still sounding like a primo ‘tard* … Y like Yahoo.
Them: Oh, okay.
Me: Okay, just e-mail him.
Them: That sounds like a great idea. What I was wanting to do (my brain started to cramp about then and I don’t remember if he was talking about writing political letters or if he was describing the latest and greatest Discover Channel documentary about the mating of those red assed baboons.)
Me: *thinking* good lord man! Shut the fuck up! Isn’t your village missing their idiot by now? Won’t they be looking for you?
Them: yadda, yadda, yadda… So what is K taking a test in.
Me: *snapping back to the here and now* Huh? What? Oh, uh.. some math thing. Calculus or something like that, I really don’t have a clue.
Them: Oh I was just wondering because I’m a physist.
Me:*thinking - Physist? And he doesn’t know that YODEL starts with a Y? What are you, like Rain Man? Why are you still talking???* um hum.
Them: Well I’ll just go a head and e-mail him.
Me: Yeah, that’s a good idea.

Another person called for K and when I informed her that he was at work, she did the same thing! She started giving me all this information that there is no way in hell I’ll remember because quite frankly, Scarlet, I just don’t give a damn. Now when I call for someone and am told they aren’t home, I just ask when is a better time to call and call back. I don’t leave that monumental responsibility of taking a detailed and correct message to someone I don’t even know! Sheesh they might be as irresponsible or have as short of an attention span as I do! I often tell people to call back later if they want to talk to K, I know it’s bitchy but whatever, it’s better than saying “sorry, I may actually write your number down, but there’s no way in hell he’ll get this message unless he actually finds it before I forget what it is and throw it away. I’m just not responsible. And more importantly, I just don’t care. At the point that you asked for K and not for me, I totally zoned out so even if I SAY I’ll take your number I’m really not going to do it because I don’t even have a pen or pencil near me, I’m just going to pause like I am writing your number down but I won’t really, so you need to either call back after 7 or try mental telepathy. It’s nothing personal I’m just seriously ADD and I’ll forget you called in about 5 minutes, I’m easily distracted after all – oh look! Shiny! ”

There are certain people who call for K and I recognize their number or name on caller ID and I won’t even pick up the phone if they call. No reason to, I don’t want to even hear their irritating voices much less have an irritating conversation with them where in they may or may not mispronounce IKEA or act surprised that K’s at work at 3 pm in the afternoon making me want to strangle them or ask me a detailed question about K’s plans for the weekend of which I am generally no part of and have no knowledge of. So I just don’t answer. I have call notes, it’s a damn good investment to me if I don’t have to actually TALK to these people.

So.. ummm yeah.. don’t call for K until he’s home from work.

Coffee Shop Talk

An inebriated gay man telling me how FABULOUS my hair is, which he can NOT keep his hands off and continues to PET my hair several times more than is polite in public – nearly to the point of me turning and saying “Say… you keep doing that I’m going to start to suspect you’re really straight.”

Same above mentioned inebriated gay man telling me (and everyone else in the café) that my hair is fabulous, just a fabulous STRAWBERRY BLOND. Not so much.

Again the fore mentioned inebriated gay man leaning over to me to stage whisper ask if I had coke, then when I and La SEG both said no, to stage whisper (loud enough for half of the café to hear) ask the next table if they had coke and to hear the gay men at that table suggest he ask a drag queen because they don’t have any.

What can I say, the inebriated gay man left quite the impression, after one of his hair petting moments he commented how fabulous it was, what a great color it was and asked who did, to which I replied I did it and he announced to the café that “White girls know how to do their hair!” Who can argue with that?

And people wonder why we insist on going to the gay Café Brazil, this kind of shit never happens at the Waffle House!


Kitty Porn


Well this WAS supposed to be a cool Yin/Yang cat thing that they were doing but as soon as I broke out the camera to take their phot, the damn cats decided to look at me and smile so the shot kind of looks like they were caught in a romantic snuggle.

I Take My Coffee Like My Men; Strong, Sweet And Light… Occasionally With A Shot Of Booze, Or Maybe Of An Exotic Flavor in A Café Surrounded By Gay People, Sometimes Cold, Covered In Whipped Cream in Plastic, Handed To Me Through A Drive Through Window… Ummm.. What Are We Talking About?

When life has gone desperately crazy and situations have run rampantly out of control, sometimes the best way to get back on track is to get back to the routine. Meeting for coffee is a good start.

Hot coffee makes the funny parts funnier, the painful parts sting a little less. It’s good to know that even though so much seems to have changes, some things stay the same. Drinking coffee until 2:30 am. 3:30 am to bed does not make 6:30 am look appealing. Worth it though.

It’s the simple things that make life worth living though. Coffee at midnight, watching inappropriate cartoons and laughing, listening to really bad karaoke… Favorite things in my life I’ve come to look forward to.

Crap To Fill Space!


You are the Lovers card. The Lovers card is about union. Each of us carries in our DNA the ability to be the opposite of what we think
we are. Often our romantic attachments grow out of awe and respect as we see in another the characteristics we repress in ourselves.

Society often presses us into molds of what it thinks masculinity and femininity should be. As a result, many of us associate with our gender certain positive characteristics and call others negative, when if these same qualities were held by a person of the opposite sex, our attitude towards them would be reversed. Getting in touch with our inner animus and anima, (Jung's terms for our inner male and female), allows us to see the whole of our personalities in a positive and constructive light.

When you draw The Lovers card in a reading, you are working with balancing these forces. Depending on where the card is, you have either achieved balance
or need to. The Lovers could indicate a romantic or even a platonic relationship. Ask
yourself is this is a positive relationship that contributes to your growth as a complete human being, or if it fills an emotional craving within you that is actually
detrimental to your personal growth.

Image
from: The Iranian artist Riza.
http://www.metmuseum.org/collections/view1.asp?dep=14&item=50%2E164


Which Tarot Card Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Works With VHS and BetaMax!


Despite the fact that she has a room FULL of toys (not an exaggeration) Cabbage Patch would much rather build towers with the VCR tapes (of which we have a couple hundred). At this point you may be wondering WHY we have a VCR tapes let alone a VCR when we have such a fine DVD player and that photo above should answer your question. Rain Man herself would have a fit if the tapes were to disappear. (eyes rolling up in head)

Work Crap…

Tonight is a MANDATORY work meeting. Supposedly this is so ground breaking and earth shattering that we all MUST be there. But I believe ALL of them are mandatory and well I haven’t made a meeting in 3 years. Whatever.

New Beds

I believe K and I have agreed upon new beds for the Little People. The Little People are DIEING for bunk beds but I am morally, generally and safetyishly against bunk beds. Neither of my children posses anything close to grace and the oldest is best described as an accident waiting for something sharp to bleed on. I love her to death the little klutz, the two years of dance class did nothing to help her with this, only magnified it to me as I watched her fall right on her ass just walking off stage. Shoe laces are a safety hazard for her, and have made me consider Velcro for her shoes but realizing that the poor child is doomed to geekiness based purely upon the fact that K and I are the ones who are responsible for her genetic make up, I just have to let it go and hope for the best. This child can’t get through the day without tripping over her feet or falling over an invisible bump, so why do I want to let her sleep in a bunk bed? Why do I want to wake several times every night wondering if she’s already fallen off the bed and suffered a concussion or something? I don’t! Case closed! No bunk beds.

What I have decided on is cute matching beds from IKEA and some really adorable sheets and stuff that will match. Of course when we get to the store the Tiny Terrorists will argue about the sheets and quilt covers and nothing will match and it will throw my obsessive compulsive part of my brain out of whack and I’ll go insane somewhere around the house wears and plastics area.

Okay, enough of all this, I have laundry to do.

Meme-day! Oh Wait, It’s Tuesday…

I figured I’d do this instead of make snarky comments about other people on the web and how their children always look like rag muffins and how other people can never seem to fix their kids hair in a way that makes me not want to set that person on fire and roast marshmallows. So yeah, it’s probably a lot safer to do this stupid meme and not add to the list of ‘People Who Don’t Like Me’.

Four jobs I’ve had
1. I once worked as a temporary receptionist for Houghton Mifflin for one whole day. I had to answer the phone with “Hello, Houghton Mifflin, how may I direct your call?” except that Houghton Mifflin was a hard one for me to remember how to say AND they were VERY busy for a few hours so I was answering the phone with: “Hooton Moofflin, how may I direct your call?” “Hufflin Mufflin, please hold.” “Hootin Hooflin, please hold.” “Mifflin Mufflin, please hold!” “Hufffgraaa Muffliton *click*” Eventually toward the end of the day, I finally got it right. For some reason they let me leave a half an hour early and never asked me to come back.

2. I worked for a private airline that had about 100 employees with only 4 of them (including me) being female, only two of those were under 50 and only 1 of them (me) was a single 19 year old college student who always wore short skirts. I loved that place; all I did was answer the phone and flirt with all the pilots and mechanics that for some reason had a lot of excuses to be in the lobby all the time. This is also the place I came to hate poinsettias due to the 500 plants they put in the freaking lobby that year that I had to stare at for a month and a half.

3. A maid for a disabled woman. It was actually pretty cool; she was very nice even though she ate a lot of SPAM.

4. I’m a baby photographer. It rocks. Most of the time.

Four movies I can watch over and over
1. Everafter
2. Lord Of The Rings
3. Two Towers
4. Return Of The King
(Now four movies I’ve had to watch over and over and restrain myself from jabbing my eyes out)
1. The Great Longneck Migration (Yeah Thanks K’s dad for getting the kids THAT little gem)
2. Lady and The Tramp (Classic my ass!)
3. Thomas The Tank Engine (Oh good gawd, that is the most fucked up, somebody must have been smoking crack when they made it kids’ movie I’ve ever seen! Again – THANKS K’s dad! Thanks for the DVD AND my new prescription to Prozac.)
4. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (I hated this movie as a kid and I absolutely loath it as an adult. Luckily for me it’s just a borrowed DVD so it will be RETURNED VERY soon and I’ll stop having homicidal dreams to that stupid theme song.)

Four places I have lived
1. New Orleans, La.
2. Detroit, Mi.
3. San Antonio, Tx.
4. Corpus Christi, Tx.

Four TV shows I love
1. American Dad
2. The Boondocks
3. Family Guy
4. Futurama

Four places I’ve vacationed (don’t be surprised that it’s a LAME list)
1. Guthrie, Ok.
2. Turner Falls in Ok.
3. Various lame ass places in Northern La to visit family
4. My own home.

Four of my favorite dishes
1. Super Hot chicken curry
2. Super Hot Chinese food
3. Spicy seafood gumbo
4. Tamales

Four sites I visit daily
1. CNN.com
2. stuffonmycat.com
3. cuteoverload.com
4. bigdicks.com… just kidding, I made that up. PVPonline.com
and of course every single solitary person I know of who has a blog that I know the web address to. Honestly. At least once a day…. Or once a week… whatever, most of you should update more often.

Four places I would rather be right now
1. In bed with a hot, sexually talented man
2. In bed with a hot, sexually explicit book
3. In bed with a hot, sexually satisfying BOB
4. In bed with all of the above. Or maybe just taking a long nap.

Four people I am tagging
1. Bast
2. Petey
3. Luna
4. Dawn
Now, because I’ve TAGGED you, you MUST do this or your underwear drawer will be invaded by thousands of angry gerbils.

First Step Is Recognizing The Problem

Being sick was a very interesting experience to say the least. I found myself wanting to sleep 23 of the 24 hours. Actually at night I would find myself desperately sleepy when I would go to bed but a couple of hours into my sleep routine I’d be AWAKE. Worst of all I wouldn’t just wake up, I would kind of startle awake. What sucked about that the MOST is that my tiny little cat Sunshine is a stalker at night. She will sneak into my room at night and sit on the pillow next to me… and watch me… just purring and watching. It’s creepy. And waking in a Nyquil induced paranoia to a small purring feline just inches from ones face is disconcerting to say the least. I swore off the Nyquil after one night of bad dreams, kitty stalkers and little sleep. Anyway, I’ve kicked the Nyquil habit (at least until the next horrible cold/flu/monkey pox outbreak).

Monday Morning Boo-Boo


Awwww... Cabbage Patch had a boo-boo this morning (I have no idea how, she just walked up to me with a forlorne look and told me in a rather dramatic tone that she NEEDED a bandaid for the 2 drops of blood that had leaked from her tiny little finger). To be honest, that photo is totally staged. I had to beg her to pout.

Silly Girl

This is the first photo I took, she was so HAPPY to have a BANDAID. But whatever, I just thought she was terribly cute.

Terrorist Threat Level Lowered

Last night on a whim (moment of insanity) I took the Little People (AKA The Tiny Terrorist) with me to a Super Bowl party. The invitation had been extended to myself and the Little People yet I still hadn't planned on bringing them until K arrived home on Sunday with a horrible headache. Despite my misgivngs and lack of duct tape, I took the Little People with me and gave them specific instructions on the hell I would make them endure if they misbehaved at the party and HOPED for the best (Read back in December of their antics when I thought having lunch with them and friends was a GOOD idea instead of ahorrific experience that it truly turned out to be). A drive through McD's for chicken nuggets, french fries and CHOCOLATE SHAKES ensured there would be no repeat of December's FOOD ISSUES. As soon as we arrived at Sable & Lerxst's, I ushered my progeny past people and into the containment area to eat their dinner and watch movies. I gave them kisses and instructions to not mess with anything and NOT LEAVE the room unless someone was bleeding or on fire, then left them to go watch the Super Bowl commercials (I hate football, the commercials were intersting tough) and gossip with friends.

The entire time I waited for Chaos and Destruction to erupt from the room and for me to have to use the tranquilizer darts to subdue my progeny before dragging them out of the house in utter embarassment and humiliation and with my parenting abilities being questioned by everyone in the house as well as anyone in a 2 mile radius of the house. I secretly prayed that their homeowners insurance would pay for any possible damages and that they wouldn't sue. Completly unnecessary. My Tiny Terrorists did not live up to their names. Every time I checked on them they were sitting quietly watching a movie. Never once did I find them with wire cutters and plans for making a bomb, nor did I find them with a secret stash of Anthrax, empty envelopes to fill and a list of political figures to mail the envelopes to. They did however leave the room from time to time but it was never anything serious and it was amusing to hear people say "Oh! Terrorist escape!" when one of them would come out of the room.

We left shortly after the game and the Little People were happy to have Sable's copy of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang to borrow (and drive me even closer to utter and complete madness with. WTF is that movie all about? That's so fucked up!). All in all it turned out well, no property damage, no law suites and no need for duct tape.

Off to clean and all.. oh yes, I am over my horrible case of Monkey Pox or Bird Flu or Alien Experimentation or what the hell ever it was. Much better. I'm almost sad to say good bye to the Nyquill though.