Friday, December 16, 2005

Photos! Photos! Photos!

Below are some selected photos from Ben's.

Two Headed Shan-dy beast!


Ohhhhh... He's so shiny!


Lersxty Claus? Santa Lerxst? I don't know, I'm not sure I want him sneaking in my house at night! Shit, he'd probably just steal all my cold beer!


Sable as The Spirit Of Christmas Hotness... I don't remember that ghost in the story though...


Now you can go look at the rest of the photos here.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Illuminating Developments

The lights are up (yes, Mystic I do have photos to PROVE that my Chanukah garlands are up). And it went as peaceful and smooth as you imagine it would… as long as peaceful means me barking orders at EVERYONE and smooth means me telling the Tiny Terrorists through clenched teeth that the damn RED ornaments do NOT go on the blue and gold garland. Yes, yes I know I’m a psychotic bitch; I’ve already covered that though. My garlands look ALMOST perfect aside from the few out of place ornaments placed there by the offspring by mistake (I’ll fix that) and YES I’m perfectly aware that MOST of you out there in Internet-land think that I should be boiled in oil for not letting the Little People decorate them as they like, but I don’t really give a fuck, these are my Chanukah garlands and I want them to be decorated MY WAY. I’ll put their little pink Barbie tree up tomorrow (if they are GOOD) and they can crap it up anyway they like. Seriously, they can, I won’t stop them. I just need to finish Jewing up my garlands and I’m done with my decorating. Some day they will appreciate my attention to detail on the decorations and they will understand that the only way to attain a HAPPY HOLIDAY is through precise and perfect decorations! HAPPY! HAPPY I SAY! WE WILL HAVE A HAPPY HOLIDAY! Oh... hey... too much caffeine…

On to other things…

Friday night I resisted the urge to go out despite someone’s strong insistence and persuasive temptations. I instead smartly stayed home to paint my pirate box for the pirate gift exchange at Ben’s the next night.

Saturday morning started much as they always do, me getting up to early, eating breakfast, showering, dressing and heading to work. I worked my first hospital then headed down the toll road to my second hospital. As I approached the exit for the toll road I could see black smoke off in the distance, I figured it was some building or something burning and thought no more about it. As I approached the toll booth’s I saw that the toll tag lanes were open and only one of the other (exact change or change made) lanes was open and it was an exact change lane. Luckily (or so I thought) I had $.75 and headed for that ever growing lane as I pondered why all the other lanes were closed and blocked off. As I drove up the hill I saw that ALL the lanes on the West bound side of the toll way (where I was) were blocked by fire trucks, ambulances and police vehicles and everyone was forming a line to the far right in the break down lane. I followed suit noticing the flaming mass on the East bound side of the toll way and immediately regretted that I didn’t have my camera with me. It was quite impressive and was putting off quite a bit of smoke; I surmised that it was a burning car. I dialed my work to tell them that I’d be late because of a fiery wreck on the toll road and would be there as soon as humanly possible as I waited to be motioned around the area. Four vehicles ahead of me the state trooper directing traffic stopped everyone, I watched as the flames which were only as high as the fire trucks next to me were now twice as high and casually looked to the right down at the frontage road. Down there I saw several news trucks and decided I was far too curious to just sit there, I needed to know what the fuck was burning. Soooooo I called my sister and left her a message that asked her to turn on the TV as I was stuck on the toll road from a fiery wreck and to call me back. Then I dialed The Wife hoping she would be at home and she was. I gave her the same schpeel that I left on D’s voice mail and The Wife informed me that it was a tanker truck that was blazing. Damn. While we were talking the trooper got very animated and started telling EVERYONE to turn the hell around on the toll road and go back – and not in an orderly fashion either, just TURN AROUND NOW. So we did. During this entire time I had kept hearing booming sounds that I NOW understood to be explosions. Ahhh fun, no wonder the troopers were so agitated! I passed back through the toll lanes and wouldn’t you know it, I didn’t get my damn $.75 back! D called back and I hung up with The Wife… until I was directed onto the road. Then I had to call The Wife back and inform her that she was now going to be my GPS system and give me directions to work as I’m totally directionally challenged. Thankfully The Wife isn’t and gave me FABULOUS directions which got me RIGHT to work.

More Fire!

Later that day, Whysper and I had our candle party. It went off without a hitch. But all of our guest aside for one were late (I can’t count Crazy B as being there on time, it’s her house had the party at). We played this game of purse scramble. C was my favorite letter, because I always have a few items starting with the letter C in my purse and Crazy B was all fascinated by the packing of said C item so I gifted her with one wishing the joy of the holiday and much pleasure. I swear I really should be the Condom Fairy. At the end of the game I whined because I didn’t win anything and Crazy B gave me the Man Scent candle. Well that’s not its official name, I can’t remember it but it smells like some fantastic men’s cologne (Eternity for Men) and damn I’ll have to burn it when I’m with BOB from now on. Ahhhh… Man Candle. ANYWAY, we had fun, we ate, we ran late I didn’t injure myself nor did I set anything ablaze – though that’s probably just due to the fact that I kept my hands off things.

Pirate Party

There was a nice turnout for this month’s Ben’s I took lots of photos and haven’t finished editing them, but soon I will have them posted. In the gift exchange I ended up with a most fabulous bottle of Oatmeal Cookies Booze. Mmmmmmmmmmm. I was ready to throw down to keep that bottle of yumminess. Whysper has it in her freezer currently for safe keeping other wise it would already be gone (hey PMS sucks and I have no chocolate!) but luckily it’s safe until New Years Eve where in it will be consumed in an alarmingly short amount of time.

Well that’s it for now… more to write… but it’s late…

Monday, December 12, 2005

Temera
Your French name is
~Ardant~
It means lively.
You are always finding some way to get attention
and are always the life of the party. You will
do almost anything for a laugh and are very fun
to be around. Things often get out of hand when
you're around, however.


What is your French name?
brought to you by Quizilla

Okay, okay, that's the last of the pointless quizes I'll post until I make a REAL post tomorrow. I was just to busy fooling with the photos from Ben's this weekend and stressing out over EVERYTHING to post, but I'll write about all that tomorrow AND the great big firey accident on the tollway that made me late for work on Saturday and how The Wife doubles as a very good GPS system.

I'm off to bed now! I need chocolate!
Gay XMas Tunes

Just a moment K says to me "I'm kind of disapointed they haven't played my favorite Christmas song yet." I ask what that would be and he says "Oh Come, Oh Come, Emanuel", to which I had to say "Of course a gay man would love a song that says that twice."
Your Seduction Style: Sex Pot

Tradionally known as a "siren", "rake", or "femme fatale." You exude sensuality.
And while your sexiness is part of what makes you an incredible seducer...
Your ability to make others feel sexy is what really makes your seduction skills shine.

Most people don't feel attractive or desired enough - a need which you tap into.
You have the ultimate sex appeal, and getting attention from you is a total self esteem boost.
Your confidence is contagious, and you help others unleash their own sexuality.

Your sex pot seduction skills are so intoxicating that you can get away with... well, almost murder.
Lovers feel like your sensuality is in your blood, so it's only natural if you flirt a little.
And if you stray, that might be okay as well - as long as you make your lover still feel hot.


hahahahahahahaha!

Friday, December 09, 2005

Shining so Brightly, Yet So Dull

Last night just prior to K’s arrival home I pulled out my holiday decorations of garland and lights and plugged them in to check the aforementioned lights for workability. Now I love these lights and garland. When we resided in the house I decorated my front living room windows with the lights and I was VERY particular about the lights. Every year because I was FAR to short to hang the lights, etc. K would have to endure my kvetching until they were ‘perfect’ or until his arms would just give out from moving the garlands and lights so many times. Whatever. Anyway, this year I plugged in the blue and gold garland (it’s a green fake pine garland with blue and gold lights strung on it) and all sparkly lights lit up – YAY! I hung them where they go then plugged in the purple and white garland only to frown deeply as I peered at my garland lit only with purple lights, and intermittent purple lights at that. I adjusted a plug or two and tried again with the same result. Damn it, now I’d have to remove the strands of lights and find the gimp bulb. K arrived home as I started de-lighting my garland. He quipped about it being time to hang the lights as I scowled and explained that the lights were being removed to be inspected and fixed. K just looked on knowing that challenging my idiotic ideas can be dangerous at times especially when I’m completely fixated on something such as my garlands. I had already gathered an impressive array of replacement bulbs from the junk drawer that holds things like that and now had them spread in front of me as I painstakingly removed the lights and found the one light that was missing from the purple lights – a replacement and all lights shone brightly. As I explained to K that the white lights were somehow defective and pondered how very long we’ve had the lights and garland, etc. I realized that it would probably be much cheaper to spend another $2.50 on a new garland and $5 on new lights rather than continue to fuck with this 10 + year old garland, but fuck that, I was already half way through. At that point K interrupted my insane diatribe and reminded me that if we were to go hang with the politically active fags and dykes, we needed to leave NOW. And we did.

Upon returning I sat on the sofa looking at the remaining lights on the garland (the white ones) and then plugged them in. They worked. All of them. They ALL FREAKING LIT UP! I spent 25 minutes sitting on the floor removing the purple lights when I just didn’t have the fucking white ones plugged in! Fuck.

Also… I was going to show the pictures of the stick art, but K has stolen my STICK ART! Damn that man! Sorry, I’ll either have to recreate the beauty that it was or you’ll just have to wait for him to get home so I can get my picture.
Long Awaited Update...
(whatever, I can pretend it is if I want)

Soooooo… I’ve been remiss with my posts and I have no good explanation so I’m just going to lie. I was abducted by aliens and they only had wireless internet that cost $9.99 per 10 minutes and since I only had $5 with me, they wouldn’t let me use the internet. Sorry. I suck.

Dangerous Food

Friday (of last week) was Whysper’s birthday. I was about an hour late due to K and having to drop him and the Tiny Terrorist off at the train station and then me having to go back home to pick up Whysper’s birthday present that I had spent all day painstakingly finishing but absentmindedly forgot. The Wife had threatened me that if I was even one minute late I would not get any of the fabulous sugary goodness that is the BIRTHDAY CAKE. Oh no… I would not be denied my SUGAR BUZZ. 10 minutes prior to the time I was supposed to arrive I called The Wife and told her that I would be late and if I didn’t get a piece of cake there would be blood shed (not mine of course) and she taunted me saying that MAYBE they would save me a tiny little sliver. I immediately started working on the design for her voodoo doll.

After dropping of the family group at the train station I raced to the pub where the party was taking place. When I arrive Lerxst informed me that all the cake was gone since I was late (mentally I added his name to the voodoo doll list). Ha, ha, ha. What funny people they aren’t. I wished Whysper a happy day and gave her the lovely treasure box. Then ordered because I was STARVING. I ordered the HOT chicken curry.

The waiter warned people inquiring about the chicken curry that the hot is VERY VERY HOT. Hearing those words convinced me of what I would order. I grabbed a couple of acid blocker tablets and waited for my food. The first bite was absolute heaven. The heat wasn’t immediate, it built from a definite spiciness to an all out bonfire in my mouth. It was FABULOUS. As I continued eating, I could feel sweat on my brow and feel my face turning red. I didn’t care, it was amazing. I only ate have and packed up the rest for Saturday’s lunch. Later that night despite the extra acid reducer tablet just prior to the meal and the 2 after, I still had atomic heartburn that woke me at 3 am. Damn it was worth it.

ANYWAY – back to the important thing… the CAKE! La Seg had a most delightful cake on her birthday, it was chocolate with a fabulous cream cheese frosting that gave me a most intense sugar buzz. It was fun. The cake for Whysper was not to be the fabulous chocolate with amazingly sweet cream cheese frosting, but a decadent chocolate moose cake. Which did not provide me with the much wanted sugar buzz. Damn. I did however drink copious amounts of coffee which enabled me to maintain a lovely caffeine buzz. The party broke up when they kicked us out of the pub at midnight. Unbeknownst to ME, Whysper had provisions (as in BOOZE) for an after party in her hotel suite. This was not communicated to me and I did not learn of the BOOZE until the next day at the GAME. Damn her! I didn’t get a sugar buzz and I didn’t get any BOOZE – but I did get some super hot chicken curry! And despite the atomic heartburn (damn myself for the reflux!), I did have it for lunch the next day. Mmmmm.

ICE DAY!

Yesterday Super Girl was home from school with me due to a much anticipated snow/ice/sleet storm the day before. Super Girl was delightfully anticipating white fluffy snow covering the ground of which she could build big fluffy snow people. K and I both explained to her that here in North Central Texas we don’t get white fluffy snow, we just get ICE and bad drivers. By Wednesday evening we (around here) had a lovely sheet of ice covering the roads. Thursday morning though the roads were sanded and all and K went off to work on time, the school district decided to start the schools 2 hours late. That was fine and good and all, but they neglected to post as to WHEN the buses would be running. I drug Super Girl out to catch the bus in -3 temperatures and we waited with one of her school mates. We waited and got cold despite the multi layers of fleece – Super Girl was a virtual fleece burrito. At the point that we had been out there for 20 minutes and my fingers had lose feeling, I decided that a day spent sipping cocoa and watching movies was the plan and we abandoned our wait for the bus. It was a super trying day for me as both offspring decided that yesterday was the day to be WILD. Though I had planned to get the holiday decorations in place, I did not managed to do much more than clean and re-clean the living room and unsuccessfully negotiate with my progeny about cleaning the living room. By the time K got home and invited me to join him for the gay political meeting I was more than ready to get the hell out of the house and hang with a bunch of politically active fags and dykes.

Getting’ Gayly Political

We show up and one thing is immediately apparent, I am the only STRAIGHT (mostly) female in the room. If for no other reason that I happen to be the only female with long hair – I have never ever seen a group of people more adherent to a sterotype. I swear there were more pairs of ‘comfortable shoes’ in that place than the PayLess down the street. At one point one of the speakers said how he had 'given up on women' (trying to be funny) and I whispered to K ‘Yeah, just like all the rest of the men in this room’. I swear there were a couple of flamer guys there that I was sure it was a danger for them to pump their own gas. Other than that it was a very informative meeting and I drew a stick drawing of the group which I may go ahead and post as it’s completely offensive.

I must go for now, I have to finish decorating and all.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

You Passed 8th Grade Science

Congratulations, you got 7/8 correct!


Ah-ha! A subject I had no trouble passing! Thank heavens for that hippy science teacher.

Monday, December 05, 2005

Sixteen Candles



Your life most resembles Sixteen Candles. You sometimes feel unappreciated, but you know that you really are. Your life is one crazy adventure and you have a soft spot for that geeky freshman.


What 80s Movie does your life resemble?  (Piechart) - QuizGalaxy.com

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com


funny... that's one of my FAVORITE movies.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Stoopid People Should Not Breed

One of the first babies I took a photo of today had the bad fortune of being birthed by someone so stupid as to name their spanking new baby something that rhymes with 'A Nausea'. No kidding. This kidd is going to rhyme with queasiness for the rest of her life, or if she's SMART she'll change her name when she's an adult and not get hooked up with any guys named Ralph.

On to other crap...

Things that piss me off:
People who pass me in the lane that is ENDING because my going slightly above the speed limit is not nearly fast enough for them, this particularly pisses me off when they come seriously close to HITTING ME in their quest to get ahead of me. Come one people, pass on the LEFT - NOT in the lane on the right that is ending and thus you do NOT have the right away to do such idiocy. But... whatever, I suppose everyone had the RIGHT AWAY to be a moron.

Toll booth people who don't SMILE. Sheesh, if you hate your job that much, find another one - I know that McDonald's is hireing... And according to The Wife, someone with a McCareer in McManagement of a McDonald's (without a degree) can be making a good salary... although I do believe a McJob just serving McFries, etc. still just makes shitty minimum wage. I look good in red with yellow accents - maybe I need a McManagement McCareer.

Back to work now!

Friday, December 02, 2005

You are The Mad Hatter
You are The Mad Hatter


One thing is for sure- you're as mad as a hatter.
You have an obsession with time and if tea time
were to ever cease, you would probably be even
more confused.


What Alice in Wonderland Character Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
You are The Mad Hatter
You are The Mad Hatter


One thing is for sure- you're as mad as a hatter.
You have an obsession with time and if tea time
were to ever cease, you would probably be even
more confused.


What Alice in Wonderland Character Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

How true, how true.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Tales of Remotes and Blood

I got a UNIVERSAL REMOTE a few days ago. It was time, my remote for the DVD player doesn’t work so well since it’s had milk spilled on it. I discovered this after borrowing ‘Boondock Saints’ from Lerxst last weekend (I love that movie, fucking hot men and guns – sexy!) and trying to watch the deleted scenes (naked fucking hot men – oh yeah!) but not being able to get to them due to the milk encrusted remote. The next day I bought a universal remote. Hold on… back story for the next thing to make sense – I happen to be EXCEEDINGLY cheap. I rarely will EVER replace anything unless it’s beyond repair. Case in point, when K and I first got together he had a big television that was nearly as old as he was but it still worked. Over the years the colors started to get a bit funky, but the reception was fine and the sound worked fine so I refused to even consider buying a new one. One day about 7 years later, the TV bit the big one and I HAD to get a new TV – I just happened to know someone who was selling one that was still fairly new (she was getting married) so I got it for hardly anything and that’s the TV we’ve had for the past 6 years. It works fine, as long as you don’t turn the volume up to loud… then the speakers crackle… but it works FINE. We’d still have that one in the living room entertaining us if not for the opportunity to get a BIGGER NEWER TV for FREE! The only thing is that the buttons to control it on are messed up and there is no remote, so one must be careful when turning on the TV or turning up/down the sound so as to NOT get a little shock (just us a pencil!). I’ve had the TV for 5 or so months and thought this was fine, even the Tiny Terrorists knew how to turn on the TV without getting electrocuted. Back to the other day, we are in the store and I’m scrutinizing my remote selections when K says “ I guess you got tired of the prospect of me electrocuting myself every time I turn on the TV.” I said “No, I’m getting the remote so I can see the special features on ‘Boondock Saints’, the prospect of you getting electrocuted while turning on the television never gets old to me.” Priorities… Norman Reedus and Sean Patrick Flanery ‘s fine behinds are worth the expense of getting the new remote, K shocking himself (for my amusement) is not.

On to the BLOOD!

So yesterday morning at 5 am I wake to my nose bleeding. I haven’t had a NOSE BLEED in YEARS! It was disturbing and made it all but impossible to go back to sleep. So I went to sit at my computer and shove Kleenexes up my nose until it stopped. I did this on and off several times during the day. Later that night I was at dinner with Porn Star and La SEG when I feel that trickle from my nose and I grab my napkin to tie dye it red with my leaking brain blood. La SEG says “Oh! You’re bleeding!” I say “Oh I know, it’s fine.” And continue bleeding, Porn Star says nothing, she’s seen it several times that day. The waiter looks at me and asks if everything is all right, then walks away when I say I’m fine. JUST WALKS away, doesn’t offer to get more napkins to replace the one I’m currently spewing blood on, he just WALKS AWAY. Porn Star, being the deeply maternal and caring person got up and grabbed me a napkin or 20. Asshole waiter, I know that if it had been our USUAL wait staff, they would have had all the napkins there for me and would have been compassionate to me even if they did run to the back to wonder exactly how much coke I was snorting before I got there to make my have a nose bleed like that.
christmas star
You are the Christmas Star.


What Christmas Ornament are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

That's me, I'm a SUPERSTAR!

Wednesday, November 30, 2005












Loveable Eccentric

You scored 17 neuroses and 26 psychoses!

You sure do have your quirky ideas, but you're usually pretty
emotionally stable, so we just kind of laugh them off and pretend we
didn't hear you. Good luck with that time machine!
















My test tracked 2 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 13% on neuroses
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 86% on psychoses




Link: The Are you Neurotic or Psychotic Test written by chickennibbler on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test


Anyone surprised???

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Shhhh... The Cat's Are Listening
Or
Something Truly Random From The Depths Of My Depraved Mind


I think my cats hate me, well not both of them but one of them, my cat. I think she does hate me that's why she wakes me up at an unholy hour of the morning just to purr at me and lick my face. Maybe she doesn't hate me, though maybe she's just confused and thinks her purpose in life is to shed and to act as my personal alarm clock... Alarm Cat. I hate her for this.

The other cat loves me. She thinks she's mine. I don't love her in that way. She's not my cat. She needs to love her owner like that and leave me alone. Sleeping under my bed at night is just stalking and I should probably take out a restraining order on her.

Maybe they work together. Maybe they work for aliens and at night when the aliens conduct their nefarious experiments they get the cats to do the work for them.

Probably not, cats are unreliable. That's why there aren't seeing eye cats or drug sniffing cats. Cats have no work ethic and would call in sick every other day. Freeloaders.

Whatever... CATS, Stop waking me up, get out from under my bed and stop puking in 'secret' places at night.

I'm thinking maybe I'm not really down about the holidays, but I'm just seriously bored. And somehow that may be even sadder than being depressed. Maybe all the activitiy of late that has now come to an end has left me with nothing to do (other than laundry and cleaning and brushing my cats) and now I'm just bored and I need a hobby or just to finish all the laundry. Maybe the fresh clean smell of fabric softener will brighten my mood. Maybe I need more Zoloft... though it's been a couple of years since I was on Zoloft, but I do remember having a certain feeling of joy with every load of laundry I folded when I was on Zoloft. Joy and a certain feeling of needing to take a 10 hour nap. And I would paint. Maybe I just need to paint. I don't know, I'll try the laundry, and the painting and more coffee and then I'll let you know if I'm just bored of really depressed.

I watched a weird but oddly wonderful movie tonight. Secretary. I absolutly loved that movie. Probably because I was a secretary for 11 years and I had a few boss's that I would have gladly bent over the desk for... definitly if one looked like James Spader. I liked that movie and I can't believe that I've never seen it before tonight, except that I don't go see movies in the theater very often (that whole ADD thing makes it hard to sit through one) and as of late the only movies I get to see in the theater tend to be G rated and their target audience isn't me but my progeny.

Okay, that's all now. Move along now, nothing to see here.
D is for DUH!

So I've just had an incredible moment of realization. That I'm too fucking stupid to do 1st grade homework. In looking over Super Girl's homework I realized that I directed her to do a whole page of it WRONG. Not so WRONG that she'll get marked off but WRONG enough that her teacher will wonder if I smoke crack while she's getting a fine education paid for by my tax dollars. What did I tell her to do? I can not tell you as you would feel the need to talk smack about how STOOPID it was for me to even THINK that was how it was supposed to be done. AND then you'd tease me about the fact that it did not occur to me that what I was telling her to do was inaccurate and more work than what was neccessary until AFTER the fact, without forgetting to give me shit for letting my offspring do her homework in PEN therefore making it impossible to erase my idiocy and leaving it as proof forever that I don't understand 1st grade homework. Now I know why my mother never helped me with my homework.
Have a Holly, Jolly… Eh, Whatever…

So I haven’t really gotten much accomplished today and that’s kind of sad. I’m not terribly motivated to do much, though I do have a mountain of laundry just waiting to be washed and folded and many many places in my humble abode that need a good cleaning, dusting and vacuuming, but here I sit in front of this damn computer typing away. Honestly it only takes me 10 or 20 minutes to write this so no more than the time it takes to suck down a nice hot cup of coffee (which I AM doing right now – must have caffeine!).

This is so crazy, the holiday time; this is both my FAVORITE time of year and my MOST DREADED time of year. I love spending time with friends and family and I love all the festivities with the progeny, but I HATE all the commercialism and stress. And quite frankly, I have ENOUGH day to day stress without the holidays. AND, I’m just feeling down right now. I whined to The Wife earlier so I probably already used up all my WHINE time and should just shut the fuck up and move on. I mean I have the BEST and MOST WONDERFUL friends in the whole damn world around me, so many people who I could call in the middle of the night and cry on their shoulder if needed, that alone should leave me with enough warm fuzzies to carry me through the rest of the year if not the whole next year, but I’m still feeling down. Maybe it’s just holiday grumpiness or maybe it’s that I’m a little down that I have no one to share the holidays with – no I’m not talking about friends, I’m talking about hanging the mistletoe over the bed and sharing in some holiday naked spank-tastic fun on that special gift giving night. I have no one to buy a cute little thong with a driedel on it and ask them to play some games with me. This would not suck so badly IF K was in the same boat! Yeah, I know, what a bitch of me, but ya know that they say ‘misery loves company’, you can just call me M and come on over for some cookies. K has a boyfriend to share the holidays with and snuggle with and give inappropriate gifts too late at night while warming the lube and handcuffs. Me, I have Bob, Bob and Bob Jr. to change the batteries in. None of the Bob’s shop. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, you don’t want to read about me whining about not having a SPECIAL someone to share the holidays with – I’m not talking SEX, I have plenty of places to get that, just someone to worry about giving the PERFECT gift to (A blow job, right?). Eh, whatever, enough of that, on to other reasons I dislike the holiday!

After my parents divorced, the holidays pretty much sucked. Apparently my dad was the one with the Santa connection. That sucked because mom didn’t seem to have the pull with Santa that dad did or Santa just didn’t like poor kids with pot head relatives and psychotic grandmothers, because he never got me what I asked for after that. Fucker. I’ll never forgive him for the year he brought me the giant yellow stuffed chicken and he brought my sister the every so beautiful giant ballerina doll! WTF? A giant fuzzy yellow chicken??? What little girl wants that? Asshole. Another year he got D and I green bowls with eyes and feet! Bowls! Of all the things! I remember asking for a Barbie NOT a stupid fucking BOWL! The next year the mutha fucker brought me a Strawberry Shortcake doll. Sheesh, I was like 10! He should have just put a sign on my jacket that said I needed to get my ass kicked because I was a pussy. Every year it was like Santa himself was just looking for a way to insult us. Santa is a bastard who only likes the rich white kids!

So now I have kids and I don’t want the holidays to suck for them. But it’s hard when stores start playing horrific holiday music 3 minutes after Halloween ends! Well that and I’m a Jew so I don’t do all that Santa crap anyway – but K does, for the kids, I just tell them to talk to their dad when ever they mention Xmas. And the kids love Chanukah. But who the hell wouldn’t like a holiday with 8 days of presents and donuts! Beat that Santa Bastard! But I digress..

P is for Penis

Super Girl just finished her homework and I was looking over it and saw what looked like P-E-N-I-S written in one area. I politely asked her what it was supposed to say and she replied ‘parents’ to which I told her she had to correct that word as what she wrote is not a polite word (well really I didn’t want a note from the teacher asking what the hell kind of story I had read to her). Super Girl perked up and insisted on knowing WHAT the word was she had written (I’m sure so she could repeat it 20 times tomorrow morning before she got to school then a few more times so she could be sure to get a call home from school). I didn’t tell her the word, just forced her to write PARENTS. I did however mumble to someone on the phone that P-E-N-I-S was the proper spelling for ‘boyfriend’ hehe… At least it wasn’t D-I-L-D-O.

I’m sorry this post makes no fucking sense. My day has kind of been like that though. Probably not enough coffee.

Monday, November 28, 2005

A Happy Coexistance With Insanity

Saturday night was Snazzy Seg’s birthday dinner. Whysper, Porn Star and I all rode together. It was at this little snobby over priced restaurant near down town… wait… wait… let me start from the beginning so you get the full DRAMATIC effect.

Whysper messages me at 6:15pm and tells me she’s on her way over. I get up from the computer (the game was stupid anyway) and decide I best find something to where as she’ll be there in 15 or 20 minutes. I decide on the most fabulous but not fitting skirt as it is FABULOUS and I figure I can find a safety pin to help keep it in the upright and locked position. I put on my nice black sweater and then fix my hair, and it looks amazing, if I do say so myself (no photos of that, I’m a dork ya know), then I plunge into my closet to seek out the PERFECT foot wear for this outfit. I ruled out boots as this skirt is almost floor length on me (damn it for being short!). I did however find some very cool blue suede pumps that I hadn’t worn since I worked in the corporate world. They were a perfect match with the FABULUOS skirt and some fishnets. Whysper arrive shortly after and I gathered my muffins (for the second party) and we left to get Porn Star.

So... now back to the restaurant. I ordered one of my very favorite things in the world – something I get from Sicily’s all the time – tortellini alla panna. We talked, we laughed, we waited for our food. The waiter brought us all house salads, even though a few of us didn’t want them. I got one, I order one, but I got it. And it was icky. Really, it was ICKY. They fucked up the salad. How I do not know, but they did. Ick. I didn’t eat the salad, but I did eat the bread (they were VERY generous with the bread). My entrée finally arrived and I was desperately disappointed with it. It was much like the salad, ICKY. Porn Star and Cousin of Seg were kind enough to let me have some of their baked ziti (which was fairly good), but it was no big deal, I had my sights set on the CAKE! Oh yes the cake. Snazzy Seg picked up her cake from Central Market… a chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting and yummy chocolate design on the top. More talking, more laughing, some photo taking and finally it was time for CAKE!

The CAKE was soooo damn good I swear I wanted to have a relationship with it (no, no, I still DO want to!) It was absolutely perfect. I ate my piece and was suddenly regretting that I ate anything at all at the restaurant because I wanted to eat the other half of the cake but I was full so I didn’t. And in retrospect, that was probably a GOOD thing as 20 or so minutes after making love to… er... I mean EATING my cake; I was on a serious sugar buzz after just one piece of cake. Seriously buzzing. I don’t eat a lot of sweets so I get a serious sugar high when birthday cake is involved. Woohoo! I did the same thing last month at my father in laws birthday party. So now I’m buzzing and I know what will make this absolutely PERFECT! Coffee! I mega dose of caffeine! I always want coffee when I’m on a sugar buzz, don’t ask me why but for some reason (probably a smart reason) people never seem to give me the coffee I want.

We leave the restaurant and I ask at least 150 times if we can stop by Starbucks on the way to Sable and Lerxst’s party. At the point that we drop off Porn Star, we hadn’t found a source of caffeine for me and we didn’t find a Starbucks on the way to Sable and Lerxst’s either – though Whysper did make a concerted effort to find coffee for me. When we got to the party I told The Wife all about the restaurant and the bad salad and the icky food and the amazing cake and how I needed coffee and that I thought I was shrinking because my skirt seemed longer now (it was touching the floor). I was speaking in complete paragraphs. And apparently I was amusing. I was asked if I had been drinking but assured them that I had no booze, just SUGAR! SUGAR! SUGAR! SUGAR! And I needed COFFEE! COFFEE! COFFEE!

I didn’t get caffeine, I did get alcohol and I did eventually slow down to a pace that was normal. I swear I could feel my hair growing when I was on that sugar high. The party was delightful, Whysper and I left at 3:30 or 4 am. Looking forward to the parties for this coming weekend!

Saturday, November 26, 2005

It’s Quiet… Too Quiet...

So today has been a delightful day at work, I’m actually finished with work and it’s not even 1PM. Hell I was done and headed home by noon today! (which brought way more joy to K than to me as he could now attend some stupid party that he was sulking about not being able to go to as I would normally be working and his delightful brother declined the joyous possibility of watching out offspring so that K could attend aforementioned party. Now it’s a mote point as I’m home and he’s heading to the party right now).

The BEST part of the day was that I decided to wear this most spectacular skirt that I have not worn in probably 7 or so years or more when I got way to fucking fat to wear it. It’s not a size too big but I thought it would work just fine anyway and it’s just so damn pretty, I figured it would be a perfect match for my cow print clogs (my official winter footwear aside from my various pairs of ho boots). Now… since this delightful skirt has been sitting patiently in a drawer for the past 7 + years I had no idea that the elastic in said fabulous skirt was on the way out until I pulled it out to wear it this morning. Since I was (as usual) running late, I didn’t have time to find something else to wear and since the skirt seemed to be resting securely on my ever so wide hips, I figured it would stay there and be safe to wear to work… where I spend all of my time walking from one room to the next, not sitting calmly and quietly in a chair. At my first hospital I kept feeling the lovely skirt inch down just a bit further and I kept hiking it up as I’m certain flashing my cute pirate thong, though amusing, is not exactly the best way to make sales. Still, I was mostly confident that my skirt would stay in the upright and secure position and my pirate thong would remain unseen. As I left the hospital having a conversation on the cell phone with D, I felt the skirt shift downward causing me to grip it tightly as I continued to my car and upon closer inspection, I discovered that I was in a horrible state of denial this morning and that a skirt that is a size to big with failing elastic is not, I repeat NOT a smart choice to wear to work… unless your work involves you dropping your skirt to reveal your undies at a moments notice… as mine involves taking photographs and not photographs of the naughty variety, I must confess that the ever so lovely skirt is a BAD idea.

At my next hospital I procured an enormous paper clip and clipped my skirt in a semi-secure fashion that would allow me to see the few people and far to enthusiastically suggest that they wait until tomorrow for photos (so that I could drag my nearly revealed ass home to take a nap, then make muffins, and dress for a party – of which I am still planning to wear this delightful skirt, but with at the very least a SAFTEY PIN and of course some fabulous boots… although I may feel the need to wear ho boots and that will mean a skirt of a more revealing nature – and not of the kind that this skirt promises, just more leg, not my ass cheeks, although the dress is ‘dressy casual’ and not ‘clubbin’ ho’ so maybe the long skirt and a sweater instead of low cut shirt and short skirt… ahhh decisions…).

And now here I am home, having eaten my lunch of left over turkey (a samich) and fuck, I swear if I have to eat much more turkey I will vomit. (So go ahead and tell me how stupid I was for buying a 13.5 lb turkey).

Last night K and I took the progeny to see Chicken Little (which is quite funny) then to have dinner (the greasiest damn hamburgers in Texas, but damn they tasted like heaven… and weren’t TURKEY), on the walk back home the progeny started telling their father that it was quiet outside… too quiet, that the aliens were out and we needed to watch for them. I found this very funny as I had done this with the Tiny Terrorist earlier in the day when we returned from the park – hey, I do anything to make my toddler stop her whining. K didn’t find the alien talk very funny, especially when Cabbage Patch informed him that the aliens would get him first. Hehehehe… I personally found it quite funny at how easily it was to get them to do something so damn insane. I wonder if I can get them to wear foil hats now.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Big Gay Thanksgiving

What’s more ridiculous that I’m wearing an “Easy Pussy (picture of cat)” shirt when the only men around are GAY or that I just cooked a 13.5 lb turkey for 2 adults and 2 picky children to eat. Can we say LEFTOVERS!!

Today I went to work – Holiday Pay! Woohoo! It wasn’t too bad, I really do love my job and it gives me great joy to AMAZE people by taking good photos. (Yeah I know, some people are easily amused.)

Okay, that’s enough about Thanksgiving, just waiting for my marbled pumpkin cheesecake to be ready to serve.

TRF Final Weekend

So after a week of struggling with being sick and trying to finish up all my projects, I somehow managed to actually do just that – struggle with being sick and finish. So I attended TRF while being gawd-awful sick. Probably not the SMARTEST thing in the world to do, but hey I had three very important reasons to go, 1) Cyn and Koolagh’s hand fasting which I was in and was delivering items for, 2) The Unqueenly of which I was Thorne’s attendant and most importantly 3) Hot Masseuse Guy (aka Frappichino with Extra Whipped Cream)… actually when it came right down to it, it was Hot Masseuse Guy and only Hot Masseuse Guy that I was going for. I’m sure Cyn would have understood that I was hacking up my lungs and could have found someone else to fill in at the last moment (but I was happy that I was able to be there for them), I’m sure Mystic could have found someone else to tend to Thorne, and I would have sent the clothes to dress him in (though I’m THRILLED to have been a part of it!!!), when I told Hot Masseuse Guy that I was in fact virulent and asked him if he still wanted to share sleeping quarters with me and his answer was OF COURSE, well I could have been dragging an IV around and an oxygen tank and I’d have found a way to be there. (So Cyn and Mystic, you should send a thank you to Hot Masseuse Guy for giving me the will and fortitude to make it).

OKAY, so here’s what happened: We (me and my ride) arrived at 4:30 am. Yes, 4 fucking 30 in the morning. Poor, sweet Hot Masseuse Guy had arrived at like 11:30 or 12:30 and he waited for me to show up. Froze his ass off and waited. Of course he HAD to wait because it was FREEZING in the tent and I had ALL the blankets! Yeah, whatever, bad planning on our part, whatever, I made it, we threw all the warm from the car blankets on the bed and snuggled until breakfast time. The next morning, into faire after a mega dose of cold medicine. We walked around, we had fun, we took photos, we left to do SPCF stuff and then Hot Masseuse Guy and I took a REALLY LONG NAP. Yes a NAP. We hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and we NEEDED a NAP. Stop looking at me like that, I always nap naked. LATER, much later it was Cyn and Koolagh’s handfasting, which was truly touching and I’m honored that I was part of it. THEN, it was time to dress Thorne for UnQueenly! It’s amazing what can happen with a shave, a pair of red stockings and black fishnets, a hot red corset, one well padded bra, a Little Orphan Annie wig and some wings. One Fabulous Fire Fairy! Cinder Ella was born and damn I was absolutely envious of those legs. Unfortunetly, the SPCF entrant (Cinder Ella aka Thorne) did not win (we were ROBBED!), but we DID make an impressive first year entry. NEXT year the title will be ours! After that, I sat around the fire for a while then headed for the tent with Hot Masseuse Guy. Sunday morning was totally uneventful. I didn’t go into faire, didn’t seem like much of a point since Hot Masseuse Guy had to leave early and I was not feeling all that fabulous. When everyone else was in faire, we took down the tent and said our fairwells. Then I cleaned up camp and started feeling like crap. We (my ride and I) left at closing and got caught in the traffic of people leaving *sigh* which sucked. I drove until a hour or so before we got to my casa at which point I was falling asleep on the freaking road and had to pull the hell over. My ride took over and thank goodness for that as I was having trouble getting to the end of a sentence without falling asleep! No shit, by the end of the sentence I was dropping off and waking up trying to figure why the hell my mouth was moving (okay, that does happen from time to time, I suddenly wonder why the hell my mouth is moving but I’m usually not falling asleep, just babbling on for no real reason). We made it home at 12:04 am. The End.

Oh yeah, I took a total of 10 photos this past weekend. 10!! And three of them were of Hot Masseuse Guy.

Today, I am finally feeling better, I think that I shall be rid of this viral illness by this weekend – just in time for a party!

Monday, November 21, 2005

Cop Out Time... er.. Quiz Time

Bambi Result
Bambi


Which DISNEY character are you most like?
brought to you by Quizilla

So does that mean that I should stay out of the woods during deer season?

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Copping Out Yet Again!















The Marry-able Muse

You scored 57 Wildocity, 63 Goddessilicious, and 53 Mynxmastery!

You have a wide range of muse qualities my dear.. You are free
spirited, comfortable with yourself, a touch naughty when the mood
strikes, and an all around well suited dream girl.

Sadly however, you are too balanced too really drive an artist to
frantic heights of creation and inspiration. You most likely need to
either feel a 'connection' with your artist, or be otherwise in control
of him, such as through marriage..


You likely feel just a little weird doing anything risque, and constantly ask silly questions.

I really honestly wish I could break it to you more gently, but
alas, tis not to be so. Here's my phone number though, in case you want
to give it a try anyways..

















My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 0% on Wildocity
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 99% on Goddessilicious
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 0% on Mynxmastery




Link: The Ultimate Muse Test written by greenpaintbomb on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test


SO yeah, sorry, it's just a stupid quiz, but I'm fucking sick and I have a ton of things to get finishes. In fact I shouldn't even be at the computer right now, but I feel like crap and I'm hoping the medication I took recently will kick in and take me to blissed oblivion (sleep). Heres hoping that I'll be feeling better by Friday. TRF while feeling like this will SUCK!

Monday, November 14, 2005

The Long And Winding Post

So here I sit sipping a cup of green tea and willing myself to NOT get sick. I’ve already got a fever and a scratchy throat, but I’m kind of chalking that up to maybe staying up to late last night and allergies. I can’t get sick, no time. Cabbage Patch is still coughing and intermittently has a fever so maybe me being her maternal being; I’m getting sympathetic symptoms due to my not being able to adequately express my guilt over my inability to keep her well. It could happen!

I’ve made macaroni and cheese from scratch, that’s what’s for dinner tonight. Well not JUST macaroni and cheese, but that AND a whole slew of veggies, hell I’m not going to let my kids skip the veggies and come down with rickets or something. Okay, whatever, stop looking at me like that, you know I have a fever.

Cabbage Patch has two new favorite movies now. She has to watch them both EVERY day. I only once though. Princess Bride (which I love) and Mars Attacks! (which I love also). Mars Attacks! Is the absolute favorite of those two. This brings a tear to my eye as my favorite movie at her age was Godzilla (any title), so it’s nice to see my corrupted genetic contribution to her make up has made her fond of cheesy monster movies (she loves Godzilla too). “We come in peace. Do not run.”

Cultural Diversity

The end of this week Super Girl’s class is doing a holiday food sampling where in they sample traditional foods that are made in the families of her class mates. Obviously I’ll be packing some Chanukah foods for the class to sample. My real issue now is what to pack for her? Chanukah being the Festival of the Oil dictates that we make food prepared in oil, as in fried… deep fat fried. *sigh* Traditional food for Chanukah is latke’s (potato pancakes), but honestly they taste like ass if they get cold (the zucchini ones taste good cold though), and well… Super Girl doesn’t like them (picky, picky child). I’m overly sensitive when it comes to my cooking so the thought of 30 or so 6 year olds turning their noses up at my carefully prepared latke’s makes me cringe. So donuts it is. I made donuts last year for Chanukah (a couple of days at least) and though I vowed last year that it would be the ABSOLUTE LAST time I deep fat fry anything instead opting for a box of Krispy Kreme donuts and a bag of potato chips, I will in fact break that vow and fry up a batch of donut holes in the name of cultural diversity. And so help me if even one of those little brats complain about my donuts, I’ll… just cry like the baby I am. Of course now I have to wonder if we need to include something representative of the ‘alternative lifestyle’ members of our household? Maybe fluffy rainbow cupcakes? Fairy cakes? Cream puffs? I’m at a loss here.

6 Chips

Last night I dropped off some fabric to Lerxst and consulted with him about a project he’s working on. When we left (I took Super Girl with me), Sable gave Super Girl two fresh from the oven chocolate chip cookies – one for her and one for Cabbage Patch. Super Girl dropped one as she got in the car but quickly recovered it (3 second rule). Upon arriving home, I discovered that the one that was dropped was broken and was missing a piece and attempted to explain to Super Girl that she would have to share part of the unbroken one with her sister. You would have thought I told her I was going to poke her with a red hot iron. She started screaming about how she could not share the unbroken one as it had 6 chips. WTF? 6 chips? Negotiations broke down and she was sent to bed sans cookie. Then I ate the cookie. Just kidding, but I WAS tempted to eat it instead of pack the damn thing in her lunch to surprise her. See, I am a good mother!

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Take the quiz: "What Historic Woman Are You?"

Deborah Sampson
This woman is amazing. During the American Revolution, she disguised herself as a male soldier and ran off to fight against the British. After she was found out by the great General Henry Knox, she was given an honorable discharge and a pension from the military for her brave work. You are strong, loyal, and always fight for what you believe in. Go you. Learn more about Deborah! http://www.distinguishedwomen.com/biographies/sampson.html
Random Thoughts Between Appointments

Letters In My Head

Dear Mr. Security Guard;

It is well known that most women love a man in uniform, but let me clarify - the whole uniform thing works for military men, police officers and firefighters (HOT!), NOT rent-a-cops, grocery store workers, mail delivery persons (USPS, UPS - ick!, FedX, etc.) or food service workers.

Despite the fact that you are fairly handsome, you are unappealing to me due to the fact that you think you are HOT - there by making me fight the urge to kick you in the nuts every time I see you.

Just because you carry a flashlight and a walkie-talkie it does not make you cool or prestigious - hell I have a flashlight in my purse and a cell phone in my pocket!

In conclusion, I would appreciate you not trying to make passes at me any more, I'm quite certain your valuable time could be used to a more productive purpose such as making sure all the doors are locked/unlocked and telling people they can't park in the loading zone.

Regards,
The Bitchy Chic With A Camera

Dear Mom With Not So Pretty Child;
Your baby is ugly. I'm sorry, but it's true. Your husband is ugly and stupid. You should not have spawned using his DNA contribution. The picture was good, very good even, but I can not work miracles and make your little missing link look cute. Don't worry though, most kids grow out of that and look human soon. As far as your husband, that's nothing a divorce or cyanide can't fix.

Good luck!
Speaking The Truth

Dear Obnoxious Mom With Equally Obnoxious Kids;
You really should keep those kids on leashes when you are in public. The waiting room of a hospital maternity ward is no place to let your kids scream and run and jump off the furniture. I could hear your little monsters screaming all the way in the OTHER wing. You should know better, you work in THIS hospital... Shame on you. Though I was DEEPLY impressed at how you started actually WATCHING your children and telling them to not climb up so high AFTER I had been there for 5 minutes - though not telling them to quiet down. (eyes rolling up in head) They really are cute kids, it's just sad you are letting them develop such bad manners.

I suggest to muzzle them.

Regards,
Duct Tape works well too!

Dear Mother Nature;

Why did you go through all the trouble of making it all cloudy and dark most of the day yesterday, thereby giving everyone false hope of rain? *sigh* We'd ALL like some rain, please send some.

Regards,
I Wanna Wear My Rain Boots

Dear Juan Valdez;

I think I love you, no I just love your COFFEE! I've had WAY too much coffee today and I'm BUZZING! Woohoo! It's fun. I could have fun just sitting here looking at my finger nails right now. :o)

I'd like to marry you Juan, just kidding, I'd like to marry your coffee plants though.

Sincerely,
Sweet and Light, with an Extra Shot!

Saturday, November 12, 2005

So Tired...

Damn, I'm tired. The main hospital I cover opened up the new wing for materity and dog help me it was full. The unit is quite long now so it's a lot of walking to cover it. (some of the lazy nurses are complaining about walking from the nursery to the new wing as it's a tenth of a mile) I finally got home at 6:30 today. I'm tired, I'm going to go sit on the sofa and watch a movie and eat ice cream.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Quizes To Fill Space!

You Failed the US Citizenship Test

Oops, you only got 4 out of 10 right!

Well doesn't that clearly illustrate my Texas education and the fact that ALL of my history classes from middle school through high school were taught by football coaches! Sheesh, I learned more about John Wayne movies than history in history class!

What Your Sleeping Position Says

You are calm and rational.
You are also giving and kind - a great friend.
You are easy going and trusting.
However, you are too sensible to fall for mind games.


Your Hair Should Be Red

Passionate, fiery, and sassy.
You're a total smart aleck who's got the biggest personality around.

Hmmm good thing my hair is RED!

Your Birthdate: August 11

Spiritual and thoughtful, you tend to take a step back from the world.
You're very sensitive to what's going on around you, yet you remain calm.
Although you are brilliant, it may take you a while to find your niche.
Your creativity is supreme, but it sometimes makes it hard for you to get things done.

Your strength: Your inner peace

Your weakness: You get stuck in the clouds

Your power color: Emerald

Your power symbol: Leaf

Your power month: November
Oh Say Can You See...

If you haven't noticed the Hunk Of The Day over on the left, take a look now. I tell you, THAT certainly makes ME feel patriotic!

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Pampered Chef Party Of Doom

So yeah, back to the Pampered Chef Party. Whysper took me and the Little People to Lady B’s for her Pampered Chef Party. I’m a total sucker for Pampered Chef stuff, actually ALL kitchen gadgety things really. I hadn’t been to a Pampered Chef party in a long time so I was excited to go and see all the new stuff they had to offer. Upon entering the party, the Little People made fast friends with the Pampered Chef consultant, bonding over their Polly Pocket dolls.

The party got underway and luckily the Consultant kept her talking to a minimum so as to allow us to try out all her neat gadgets. As she spoke I eyed something called ‘The Ultimate Slice & Grate’ or as I would soon learn ‘The Ultimate Finger Chopper’. I wanted to try it. It was one of the few items in the catalog that I had never tried out and damn I wanted to slice and grate! After the talking part was done, I made sure the Little People were involved in a non-lethal activity and headed to the kitchen for the sharp and pointy gadgets.

Upon spying my object of obsession I headed straight for it. I deftly grabbed a potato from the counter and attempted to put it onto the holder thingie. This was the first indication that I was not qualified to operate this item, I could not figure out exactly how to get the potato onto the holder thing the right way. Eventually (with the help of someone else) I got it attached and proceeded to grate that potato. Huzzah! Feeling a false sense of superiority over this gadget, I changed the blade from the grate blade to the deadly and super sharp SLICE blade. A fleeting feeling of foreboding and dread washed over me but was hastily replaced by childlike glee and utter abandon as I snagged another potato. Again I had trouble getting the vegetable onto the holder that’s (supposedly) designed to keep my digits safe and attached to my hand. Again, someone stepped into help my lameness and positioned my potato on the holder as I prepared to jump into danger with nary a thought to my safety. I awkwardly slid the potato down the board and deftly cut a large chunk of my thumb (through my damn nail) then turned to the hostess of the party and announced “I just cut myself.” Lady B got ointment and bandaids after I assured her that I was fine and proceeded to bleed into a paper towel. After maiming myself I was pretty much banned from any cutty-sharp type things. Probably for the best. Though I was now truly regretting that I had not taken off the dreadful chipped green nail polish prior to the party as now I quite certain that even holding the bottle of nail polish remover would cause me horrible burning pain.

Cabbage Patch showed her talent for chopping broccoli with the food chopper. And Super Girl showed her proficiency with the Citrus Press. I see a bright future in food service (and not McDonalds!) for them!

Anyway, my thumb is fine. It looks a little nasty, but it’s cool.
I'm A Total Sell Out

On Average, You Would Sell Out For

$1,002,248


Actually I'm just really lame for not posting. But here! Here is a Quiz! This is interactive BLOGGING! You too can participate by clicking the pretty link above and taking this test for yourself! Woohoo!

So much to write... So very much to write... Friday's Pampered Chef Party, my near amputation of my thumb on the VERY dangerous but soooo fucking cool kitchen gadget that even though I'd probably DIE from blood loss if I ever owned one, I must have a serious suicidal streak within me because I STIL WANT IT DAMN IT! Hell even if I couldn't safely use it (even with supervision) I could at least set it up as a home security system. Then the LONG day at work, and the party for father-in-law on Saturday (moved from sun) and the watching of Episode III (Yawn) then the WORKING on Sunday, fetching K from the gay political meeting, being told my Tiny Terrorists are so well behaved (yeah, that's when they plot their distruction) and having the lesbian not get my jokes. Then LAUNDRY! Yes LAUNDRY! Woohoo! LAUNDRY! I did LAUNDRY ALL FREAKING DAY yesterday! Wow. Maybe I need to back off on the fabric softener... I think the fumes are getting to me. And then of course preparing for closing weekend of TRF and ALL the work I have to do and camping with my friend, the Massage Therapist (YAY!!!!) and all that! And... hmm..... I guess I've posted then. I may elaborate later... or not..

Monday, November 07, 2005

How To Make Whine...

Ask (demand) that your offspring put away the mountain of laundry that you've spent all day washing and folding. You would have thought I asked them to cut their own feet off with rusty butter knives! Sheesh. And the best part... when the oldest progeny stands on the stairs with a arm load of her own clothing and says petulently "What have you done?" As in why do I have to do all the work, what have you DONE all day? risking her very own existance but uttering such a statement. Ahhh and the emotional breakdown(her's not mine) over matching SOCKS is an added bonus. Who knew laundry would put the FUN back in disFUNctional!

Sunday, November 06, 2005

How To Amuse The Crap Out Of Me

Sit in front of your dad who is lieing on the floor watching movie and pretend to play the drums on him, even concluding it with a wild head banging finish. Heehehehehehehehe