She had it where?

You know those stories you hear about people not knowing they are pregnant and then giving birth in some random place . . .
Well.
I now know someone who gave birth to a five pound twelve ounce girl on her bathroom floor.
Flushed the "mess".
Wrapped the baby in a blanket and went to sleep in her bed.
She is sixteen.
That girl is strong.
Here I am afraid to get pregnant because of the pain that goes along with childbirth.
And she did it. No drugs. Nothing. BY HERSELF!
I can only imagine how scared she must have been.

"How long is that gonna last?"

I cleaned out my closet.
Nine trash bags full.


I then color coded my remaining shirts/dresses in the sequence of the rainbow.

Oh, that scar

"I HATE YOU!"
"Stop pulling my hair RIGHT NOW!"
Whimpering, "Let go of my wrist. You're hurting me"
*sniffle*
"I'm gonna tell mom if you don't get your hands off me."

She didn't. Not until mom walked into the bathroom and saw us.
Facing each other.
Me pulling her hair down so hard she was almost on the ground.
Her with her fake nails digging into my wrist, blood gushing out.
We were grounded from each other indefinitely. Would have worked too, no more fights, no more hating each other periodically, if we hadn't of loved each other so much that we had to start talking again.
But really, that's what sisters do.

I'm not lying

Judge: "Ma’am, could you please state your name for the record."

Our client: "Who's name?"

Judge: "Your name."

Our client: "What? Which one?"

Oh how I wish my job let me go to the court house more. I, sadly, missed this highly intellectual exchange of words which the hearing opened with.

Absent becasue . . .

I had a two day migraine.
It lingers and hurts me so.
That is all.

Green Beer!

I have never tried green beer. And really I want to.
Tonight, Alan's friends are coming in to town, so we will probably hit the local bar strip, have some green beer and regret it come morning.
Cause really, we have to get up at 5 am tomorrow so that we are on the road by 6 and at my mom's by 9.
My brother will be in from San Francisco. So excited to see him.
But as excited as I am, I am peeved that I have to disrupt my entire weekend because he decided to move so far away and come home twice a year.
Anyhoo.
It should be fun.

Sorry

I'm sorry.
Sorry I ruined your night.
Sorry I'm not who you really need.
Sorry I can't change and sorry I don't know how to.
But most of all, I'm sorry if you feel trapped.

*shiver*

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You tell me

My friend Heather came to town Thursday night.
We went to dinner.
Had a huge margarita.


I may or may not have been drunk in this picture.

A jellyfish bad day

WARNING - This is a little long, but damn is it funny!

Hi Sue, Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad day at the office.
As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose
Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints.. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi. Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch.
So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my butt started to burn I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened
The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt.
I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression.
When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet. As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I go! t in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut.

So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt.

Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job." Whenever you have a bad day, ask yourself, is this a jellyfish bad day?

Have I told you this already?

I'm not sure if I have mentioned this to my blog family, but my oldest sister is pregnant.
With twins.
Apparently this kind of thing does run on the woman's side.
Who knew?
She is due at the end of July and my mom has already informed me that I will need to be saving my vacation time.
Not that I have a problem with this.
The more time with my nephews/neices the better since I do live three hours away.
I would like for them to get to know me.
But I have officially been volunteered to take a week off work and come "help" when the babies are born.

Ash Wednesday

I have decided to give up diet coke and all desserts for Lent.
The desserts might not be so hard.
Giving up the diet coke may put me into a coma.
We will see.


(It was my semi boss)

I didn't have my coffee soon enough

What do you call a man who treats a woman like they are stupid even though said woman graduated from the same University that said man graduated from?
That said woman does in fact have a brain, that she uses on a regular basis, and knows, with out said man explaining in detail like he would to a ten year old, how to do her job (one she has had for seven months now!)?
What do you call that man?
What?

Oops

This is what happens when you learn you aren't going to get your dream home unless a freaking miracle occurs overnight.


Why can't I ever have a freaking miracle???
I'm not asking for a lot.
Just one!

WE FOUND IT

Hubby and I are making a bid on a house.
It is the best house. Most perfect for us.
Ceramic tile througout the entire house.
High ceilings in the living room.
The living room is big.
Island in the kitchen with an extended coutertop for bar stools.
Sage green walls in the living room that will match our furniture perfectly.
Huge walk in closet in master bedroom.
Brick patio.
Catus garden in the front.
Corner lot.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
We are really hoping they accept our bid and accept the fact that we can't close till July 1st. It's probably a long shot. But we are hoping for the best here.
I hate the stress of waiting to know.
To bad you can't just call up the sellers and ask them. You have to go through the real estate agents and all that crap.
Ok, everyone cross your fingers that we get it.

His Way

Every morning I stand sans clothing in my bathroom and blow dry my hair.
Every morning hubby comes in to stare at my rear and make some sort of sexual comment.
And every morning I distract him by saying, "I'm gonna make your egg sandwich as soon as I'm done here."
Well, for the past week or two, I haven't really been making his breakfast. A girl needs sleep!
So he comes in this morning to harass me as usual, doesn't get what he wants out of that and says to me (with puppy dog eyes), "I guess I'm gonna go make myself breakfast . . . "
Cue manipulated wife, "If you wait two minutes I'll make it for you."
"Ok"
And he jets out of sight while I come to the realization that he just "handled" me.
DAMN!

You can never go wrong if it sparkles

This is my Valentine's Day present from hubby. Antique setting, pearls and garnet. I love it. It is much different from all my other pieces of jewelry and I think it is great.


On a different note. We were planning to go camping this weekend but we had to cancel because of the rain that may be freezing. Suck.
But I suppose that is good since I have a piece of glass stuck in my foot. I left work early yesterday to soak my heel in Epsom salt. That didn't work so much. I know have my heal covered in something that looks like poo that the pharmacist said would draw the glass out.
Here's to hoping I'm not limping still on Monday.

Last Night

I stayed at the gym after my bodypump class and participated in the bodycombat class. I hurt.
So tired.
Want to eat everything.

I find I am slowly becoming addicted to working out.
Can you believe it?
I'm gonna be one of THOSE people.
The crazy ones that think working out is fun.
No it is not!!
But it is.
I'm so confused.

He left the butt ends for me

Hubby is the only thing keeping me going right now.
I asked him the other night why he loved me, cause really, I'm neurotic, he said that was why.
He knows he will never be bored.
I then asked him how much he loved me and he pointed out that he left the butt ends of the bread for me.
The butt ends are the best! And he knew that.

But back to the point of my writing today.
With everything going on in my wacky personal life (and really, I just mean my family) I was hoping to have a nice quiet Friday night to think things through and relax my mind a bit.
Instead, I got a drunken call from my dad.
I am now my dad's parent.
He is asking the hard to answer questions. (Was I a horrible dad?)
I am doing my best to break things to him gently with out lying to him. (Do you think you were a horrible dad? Cause how you feel is what matters, daddy.)
How do you answer those really hard questions when you know the truth will hurt them?

We lost one today

So my boss fired the girl who wasn't doing her job.
(I wrote about her previously)
It is so strange.
He has never fired anybody in the thirty years of running his practice.
We all loved her dearly but that really doesn't matter when she complained and didn't take pride in her work, which lead to mistakes that could have cost us cases had someone else not caught them.

Anyhow, it is a strange day at the office.
It's like I don't even work in the same place with all the changes around here.

New Years

With everything that happened this New Year, I never got around to posting my favorite picture from New Year's Eve night.


This is Courtney and Kevin. Aren't they cute? We had so much fun with them.

Stay Classy, San Diego

So I'm back. Back to the land of mediocre views, southern accents and of course, my hubby (I am really happy about the latter).
San Diego was fab.
Beautiful place.
Great Sushi.
Wine bar . . . need I say more.
And Lisa, of course!
(See pic of her and beau below, along with her pigs Annie and Irene, the vile creatures, that I had to hold while she cut their disgusting little nails off)




When I got back to work yesterday, I found my boss has hired another attorney for the firm and expanded the space we rent in the office. There is new furniture everywhere. Things are so different. I feel completely overwhelmed.
I was only gone for four days!
So I have decided to never leave town again. Can you imagine what would happen to my job if I were gone for longer . . ?

Here and there

So I realized tonight that I really really love the person my husband is.
I am in San Diego, with out him, and the first time in my entire life, I am homesick on vacation.
I love you, Alan.
More than you could ever imagine and hope for.
I can't wait to be next to you.

OK, I'm doing this one, and this one only people!!!

5 Weird Habits I have:

1) I brush my teeth while making my bead. But you already know this.
2) My bedroom clock is ALWAYS set 15 minutes ahead of real time.
3) I organize the dishes that I put in the dishwasher.
4) I flip my hair. ( I know this is not weird, but I hate this about me)
5) No matter when I get off work in the evenings, I call my parents. I call it my daily check in, but then I never seem to talk to them on the weekends.

5 People I'm tagging:

Not gonna tag anyone. I feel like being nice today.

10,000 + 1

That is how many things I have to do by five this evening.
But instead of getting started, I just had to comment about the jingly lady in my Bodyflow class from last night, which I love btw.
The woman had on bracelets during workout. Jingly bangles.
Every time she moved her arm I heard it.
Every time she went to downward dog, I heard it.
Now I ask you, why is she wearing jewelry during workout???
Honestly people.
It's like putting on full party make-up to hang out at the local pool.
I'll never get it.

Avoidance

Ok. Anyone who knows Alan knows he is super laid back, likes pretty much everybody and hardly ever says his opinion out loud.
He is so quiet at times you think he may not even have an opinion or be bothered by anything that ever happens.

But yesterday.
Yesterday I learned something new.

We went to lunch at Super Salad. So good. And healthy.
He forgot to bring in some cash to tip the waitress and on his way out to the car he runs into a former client (who secretly loves him and wants to steal him from me).
This lady is so loud that I can hear her from across the restaurant.
"Oh Alan (squeal). How are you? This is my sister Angela. Angela this is Alan . . . "
Now. My back was turned to this. So I only heard.
Alan gets back to the table and I asked him who he ran into.
While rolling his eyes and using an exasperated tone, he tells me.
We are done with our food at this point in time.
I ask him if he is ready to go. He shrugs his shoulders.
"You don't want to have to walk by and introduce me and talk to that lady, do you?"
"No" He says. "She is really talky. You know those people who trap you into conversation. I can never get out of it."
I proceed to laugh. A lot.
My quiet, nice, nothing bothers him, hubby is willing to drag out a meal in order to avoid talking to a perfectly nice, but overly chatty, woman.

Next Week

Next week I will be in a different city, different state, miles away from Alan and his don't eat that fatty, look.
I will be with a most fabulous friend.
I will eat fish tacos.
Go wine bar hopping.
Maybe even have a burger from In and Out. With fries.
I already feel sinful.

. . . and that's when you know to grab your hoe!

So says my Grandmother.
She is an 85-year-old that continues to mow 105 acre farm every spring and summer, rides her bike at least a mile every day and grabs her hoe when the guineas are circling because that means there is a snake in the yard.
I think the woman has more energy and life at 85 than I do at 25.
And when asked why she doesn't find a boyfriend and maybe remarry, "Why would I want to take care of some man at my age?"

The Voices

Everyone does them. Everyone.
I won't believe you if you say you don't!

Hubby and I often say, out loud to each other, what our cats are saying/thinking to us or each other. Very funny stuff.
It is one of those rare times that Hubby shows his humor.
He is a really funny guy, but so quiet most of the time that no body knows that.
Anyhoo
Shana, she's one of my ultra fabulous friends, does the voices as well. Actually, she may have started me on it.
I used to be afraid to fly.
Get pretty nervous before I would get on a plane.
One weekend in college I had to fly home to go to some stupid banquet with some stupid guy I was seeing and Shana drove me to the airport.
Very very small airport.
To calm me down, she sat with me for about an hour.
We sat looking out the windows at the tiny plane I was going to have to board.
And because Shana is such a funny ladie, she did the voices of air traffic control and the pilot talking to each other about getting ready to go.
It went something like this.

"Air traffic control, I think I am ready to go, over"
"You are a no go, red light is not blinking on the back of the plane, you are a no go. Have you pushed the on button?, over"
"On button has been activated over"
"Oh, Oh, the red light is now blinking. You are go, over"
"What does the red blinking light mean air traffic control?, over"
"Ummm . . . No time for questions Captain. You must be going now to stay on schedule, over"

It may not seem funny now. But that day it was the best.

The Biggest Loser

Ok
They let me in.
I am part of the Biggest Loser Challenge. (link on sidebar)
Yeah!

On a side note, Hubby and I are going to a Houston Rockets game on Saturday. It was his Christmas present from me. Very exciting, I know.
I have just recently made myself tolerate watching basketball on t.v.
I'm hoping the live experience will have a good effect on my attitude toward the sport. And I am hoping they don't serve funnel cakes there cause I will totally cheat on my diet.

The Fourth Floor

Everyone in the office knows, if you have to poop you go to the fourth floor.
No one ever goes in there.
Unless they have to poop of course.
So we make a joke of it.
"Ok, I'm going to the fourth floor now."
Hahaha
Now they know I'm pooping.
Whatever.
Anyhoo, yesterday, I had to go to the fourth floor.
There was a client in the conference room and the door was open.
An uber handsome, getting a divorce, if I wasn't married I would totally hit on this man, client.
From my office, I have to walk by the conference room to go out.
Well, one of the girls did not know of this client and very loudly says as I pass her office, "Hey, you on your way to the fourth floor?!"
Face turns bright red.
Ok, I know he doesn't know what that means.
But he looked at me strange. And I know he could tell I was embarrassed about something.
Oh it was terrible.
I felt like I was back in high school and I just tripped up the stairs in front of the cutest quarterback.

Damn you fashion!!

I am wearing some really really cute shoes today.
And the fuckers hurt.
Now I remember why I haven't worn these shoes in a year.
The tops of my feet are crying. I can hear them.

Oh, the price I pay to feel better about myself.

Also, thank you for the words of encouragement and love (you know who you are) this past week. I'm a lucky ladie to have you all in my life.

Ok, Lets Try This

I'm in the angry stage.
You know the one.
Nobody says anything right. You feel your life can get no worse. You hate everything you see and feel.
The angry stage.
I know in my mind this is part of the process. Woe is me.
It fucking sucks.
I'm pissed off.
Not at anything. I'm just in a really bad mood.
I don't hate work. I love it. But today, it is my worst enemy.
All I want is my mommy.
God, I'm pathetic.
Anybody know the next phase?

Local jeweler Huntley dies

By KRISTY GILLENTINE
Eagle Staff Writer

Funeral services are Wednesday for local businessman John David Huntley, whom friends said will be remembered for his generosity and honesty.

The owner of John D. Huntley Inc. - a worldwide dealer in Swiss watches, loose diamonds, jewelry and rare coins - died Sunday at College Station Medical Center from complications following surgery, according to friends. He was 48.

The Aggie 100 - a list of the 100 fastest-growing businesses owned or operated by graduates of Texas A&M University - recently named Huntley's business as No. 24 on the list for 2005.

FUNERAL SERVICES
Services for John D. Huntley of Bryan are set for 11 a.m. Wednesday at St. Thomas Episcopal Church. Burial will be at Bryan City Cemetery. Memorials can be made to the Russian Orthodox Church, P.O. Box 2912, College Station, Texas 77841.

The 1979 Aggie graduate, who collected rare coins and other items since childhood, was able to turn that passion into a career by working at the Texas Coin Exchange. The owner eventually sold the store to Huntley and a few others. By 1990, Huntley opened his own business on South College Avenue and gave it his name.

Longtime friend Jerry Nance, who said he met Huntley 25 years ago and started working with him about six months ago, said he routinely went to coin and watch shows "all over the place" with him.

"He loved to travel," Nance said. "He would go to watch shows in Europe to bring back coins and jewelry and meet people from all over the world."

Huntley moved to Bryan from Killeen in 1976 and received his bachelor's degree from Texas A&M in 1979. He served as a first lieutenant in the Army National Guard with the 124th Cavalry at Fort Hood and remained an avid supporter of the military, friends said.

According to reports from friends and associates, Huntley stepped on an unknown object in his driveway Thursday night. He was treated for the pain at College Station Medical Center, where it later was discovered that the unknown object had introduced a bacterial infection into his blood.

Tommy Crenshaw, manager of Huntley's store, said doctors performed two surgeries to remove the infected tissue, but they were unable to slow the spread of the infection. He was pronounced dead just after 5 p.m. Sunday.

"He will be missed greatly," Crenshaw said. "He was one of the most fair and honest businessmen in town."

Huntley's friends said he will be remembered for his generosity not just within the local community, but overseas as well, as he often sent care packages to troops.

Father Cassian Samuel Sibley, a Russian Orthodox priest officiating at Huntley's funeral Wednesday, said Huntley's legacy is alive in the people who loved him.

"Before he died, his hospital room was inundated with people who work for him. In my experience, people don't usually have that much love and admiration for their employers, but they did for him," Sibley said. "He was a self-made man - decent and upright. He was a good father and a good family man. That will be his legacy."

Huntley is survived by his wife, Natalia, and their 5-year-old son, John II.

I worked for this man for two and half years. He took me to Vegas, New York twice, Skiing in Red River and he paid for mine and Alan's hotel room for our wedding night so we could stay somehwere nice.
We got the call around noon on New Years. "The doctor says John has only 12 hours left". We rushed to the hospital. We sat there for four hours.
I feel so lost and heartbroken.
He gave me my first job out of college. He taught me more than I know existed about business. And it seems so strange to know that a man so much a part of my life, is now gone. And I have no idea how to cope with this pain.

Another quirk

I hate feet.
Hate them.
They do, in fact, make me a little sick.
Other people's feet that is.
I'm okay with mine.
Well, I was okay with them until my freshman year in college. My roommate pointed out to me that my feet have a strange resemblance to Barney Rubble’s feet.
That may very well be. But I think you will all agree that hubby's are just a tad more disturbing (freakishly long and skinny) than my Barney toes.

Shitlergy

Shitlergy - an allergy to the smell of shit. Symptoms include gagging, covering nose, squinty eyes and in some cases vomiting.

We went to dinner last night at a well known place, Cheddars. They have huge margaritas and yummy spinach dip.
Well, I get out of the car and the smell of rotting shit immediately fills my nostrils. I cover my nose. No help. I walk fast to get inside. I say to Paige and Alan, "Do the people out here not smell this?".
It was bad.
We get inside. Ten minute wait.
More people come in. Shit smell hits us again.
I cover my nose once more.
So, we get seated, I have a huge margarita and spinach dip, two bites of my salad, ask for a to-go box, pay the bill and head out.
SHIT! ROTTING SHIT!
I gag. Almost lose my tasty dinner. I smell shit all the way home. It is like the odor is attached to me.
Ewww.
Seriously.
Worst post dinner experience ever.
EVER.

Electronically Challenged

I live in a house with Alan, the computer guy, so I am never at a loss as to how to work something electronic. He just knows. If it is electronic - he can work it. I realize that not everyone has an Alan in their house. Like my parents.
Who have sticky notes all over their DVD and Satellite box.
Each telling them what buttons to press when and for what function.
They have had this system well over a year.
Since I don't go home much, I don't really pay attention to that kind of stuff. And my sister and Alan are usually talking about their sticky notes. Me being oblivious and having an Alan to work my electronics thought they were joking.
But alas, they were not.
Monday afternoon we are all watching a cooking show and Big Sissy says something about their sticky notes. I give a little chuckle, and then happen to actually look at the DVD and Satellite box.
Little yellow sticky notes.
Everywhere.

Am I unsatisfied?

I have been doing some thinking, I know, scary stuff. But I am one of those people who needs a life plan. I don't necessarily need to meet any of the goals/deadlines. But I do in fact need to have the security of having the plan. So, I went to work reconstructing mine because, lets be honest, I have changed. I now want and think I need different things.
Alan doesn't like to participate in the conversations about the life plan. Alan is in fact a man who likes to take it month by month. I knew this about him. But every time it shows in his decision-making I am shocked once again being that I am so pro life plan.
So, in this time of introspection and deep thought I realized one thing about myself that has always been.
I'm waiting.
Waiting for the next thing to happen. Never not thinking about what I am doing as something I have to do in order to get to the next thing.
When I was six, I vividly remember being anxious all year because the next year I was getting my ears pierced.
At fourteen I couldn't wait till the next year so I could get my learner's permit and when I had that I was almost sick to my stomach with anticipation of being sixteen and legal to drive, alone.
My last year in high school was consumed with thoughts of college. College with graduation, graduation with getting married, getting married with honeymoon, etc.
And every year after my birthday I think, Ok, a couple more months till Halloween, then one month till thanksgiving, now only a few weeks till Christmas Eve, then Christmas, then New Years Eve.
"If I can just get through ______ then I can do ______ and then _______ can happen."
A never-ending cycle for me.
So maybe I am just unsatisfied.
But I heard somewhere that tons of people do this. They are always waiting.
Waiting for the next stage.
I do have fun in the present.
But I would like to live in the present more and not be so consumed with what is next.
Like Alan . . .

The other one

Not that the cats would know, but I feel bad putting a picture of one and not the other.
So this is Rosie.
This is what the bitch does all day. And this is why EVERYTHING I own has cat hair on it.

I thank God for lint brushes.

At home

Hubby and our youngest. We don't turn the heat on so the cats have taken to cuddling with us more.
Isn't that sweet.

Of course, Katara looks a tad wicked in this picture. Spawn of Satan perhaps . . .

Men in Women's Underwear

Hubby and I are watching t.v. last night.
Having a fine time. A commercial comes on.
Seems normal. Nice background music.
BAM!
It is a tampon ad.
This infuriates hubby.
"UGH!"
"Why do they have to sneak up on you like that" he said.

This is why I am laughing today.

My confession

*cough* *cough*
My car is not inspected.
There.
I said it. I haven't gone. Don't ask me why.
There are so many excuses I could use.
Let's just accept the fact that I am lazy and move on.
Having said that, my pseudo boss and I are playing a fun game today.
We have taken to seeing how many different names I can call him without repeating any of them.
The list so far:
Rusty (his name)
Bitch
G Funk
Darling
Wusty
Dude
Dipshit
Mr. Duck
Somebody
Smacky Smackerson
Mr. Smacky
Crap Weasel
Cry Baby
Crap bag
Sicko
Buzz Lightyear
Buzz
Rusty Rusty
Mr. Particular
Mr. I don't listen to anybody I just do what I want to do
Nasty

Lots of Misters, I know, but they add so much to a name I think.

Catharsis

Do you ever have those days when you are insanely giddy and happy and for absolutely no reason?
That is me today.
I feel as if I may be high.
Rest assured, I am not.
But I feel crazy today.
I have been laughing and joking with everyone from work, singing and dancing.
In general, quite enjoying life.

Perhaps that is my reward for having to live with. . . . . . . . . the other stuff.

Office Pool

It is a joke around the office that working here makes you pregnant. I replaced a ladie who had a baby last January and she is pregnant again. Plus, another girl I work with is expecting her little one any day.
We decided today to place bets on her delivery date.
You can buy a day for five dollars. I am in charge of keeping the money.
Of course, we gave mommy-to-be a free day.

I feel like I am surrounded by babies and baby related things.

Waiting

Just seven more weeks.
Seven short weeks from today I will wake up at 5 a.m. to get on a plane and leave this tiny ass town.
Forty-nine days.
That is all that separates me from drunkenness with a fabulous friend in a different state.

Getting a little scared to fly.

Ice Day!!

My boss called me right after I had got out of the shower this morning.
Towel still on my head and feet freezing I answered the phone.
He says I don't have to come into work till around ten due to the ice on the roads.
Yes!
I love ice days.

4

That is the number of ornaments found on the floor this morning.
This has to be the only time of the year I have hateful feelings toward my cats.
Stop getting into the tree. Stop playing with the ornaments. Stop climbing over the packages and trying to move them with your claws.
And stop eating fake pine needles. They will, every time, make you throw up.

They are adorable with their guilty expressions though.

Holiday Pastime

We decorated the Christmas tree last night.
It is magical looking.
My favorite thing is popping popcorn, getting a diet coke (or glass of wine, depending . . .), turning off all the lights except for the tree's, grabbing the chess board and having an intense game with hubby.
We wrap ourselves in sweatshirts or blankets because we never turn on the heat and we leave the windows open.
We smack talk each other for hours while sitting in front of our magical Christmas tree.
Our shortest game was like an hour and half. And I'm pretty sure he cheated that time.
This was our favorite holiday pastime until last year.
Then we got a roommate and demanding jobs.
It is a rare occasion to do that now days. He is always busy with work and I am always tired or don't feel like being awake till two in the morning.
Oh to be young and in school again.

Blurb

I don't know why. But I am missing my family extra this week.
All I want to do is lay on the couch with my head on my mom's leg, have her play with my hair and rub my arm while we watch An Affair to Remember.
When it's over, she'll make her homemade malt thingy and I'll drool with anticipation.
We'll eat it outside by the fire pit in the dark. And we will laugh about nothing.
Then the next morning, I'll wake up to pancakes.
My dad will have the funnies set aside for me and coffee left in the pot.
He will then show me how the Aggies are doing sports wise. I'll ask what else is going on in the world. He will tell me.
When he leaves to "clean up", Mom and I will talk about how we slept and what we want to do that day.
We will all go to a movie.
Then when we get back I will pack my bags and load up my car.
My heart will hurt again. Much like it does now.

The Coffee Pot

There are three reasons why I wake up each and every morning. Without these three things, I really couldn't see the point of getting out of bed.
They are, in no particular order . . .

1. Alan (he makes me work if I want to buy pretty things)
2. My job (I love it)
3. Coffee (it is the sweet nectar of life for me, without it I don't function well)

The first day at my present job, I knew I would stay forever. For one reason and one reason only. They brew coffee. All day.
So I stopped making my own at home so that I could sit around with everyone and have a couple of cups and chit chat about nothing important for thirty minutes until we realize we all have work to do.
Only now, the coffee pot is broken. For some reason it takes 45 minutes to brew a pot. And it only brews 8 cups when it is suppose to be producing 12.
You know what that means. I go till 8:45 without coffee. Without the nectar. I can't take it.
I could go back to making my own at home. But, well, I'd rather bitch about the work coffee pot.
The good news.
The coffee problem has finally come to the attention of my boss.
We are getting a new and improved coffee machine for Christmas.
YEAH!!!!

Blogiversary

Tomorrow is my one year blogiversary.
To reminisce, cause that is what I do during the holidays, with everything, I went back to my very first post.
Wow.
So different.

THINGS THAT HAVE CHANGED IN THE PAST YEAR:

1. Career. From retail to law. Huge difference!
2. Friends. Sadly I have lost a couple and gained a few.
3. Marriage. We had some major breakthroughs.
4. Priorities. You don't need to know all of those.
5. Hair. Got a new do last winter and I love it.

THINGS THAT HAVE REMAINED EVER CONSTANT:

1. Obsession with weight.
2. My family's inability to get along.

I have arrived

This will be mine and Hubby's fifth Thanksgiving together. And this year, this year alone, is the year I truly feel accepted to the Shearer family. A honest to God, no doubt about it, we love you and it wouldn't be a holiday without you, part of the family.
I'll tell you why.
I got to make not one, but TWO dishes to bring to dinner this afternoon. Me. The newly accepted. Was trusted with TWO important Thanksgiving ritual foods.
The cream corn. (Thank you Cindy Skinner for your most awesome family cookbook and which I found the most perfect recipe - Granny's Cream Corn)
and, The green bean casserole.
Plus! They asked me to bring the bread.

I have arrived.


(I am so freakin nervous)

Sexy Suburbanite's request . . .

This is just to say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

I couldn’t resist

Hubby and I got a new camera, hence all the pictures. Please, bear with me till the newness wears off!
This is Heather, Brett and their oh so cute four month old, Zachary.
I'm his aunt Mim. :)
I love him so much.

Grapes

I'm eating grapes at my desk this morning.
And all I can think about is my sophomore year in college.
My roommate and I took an American Literature class together.
It was the best.
We got to review a ton of poems and short stories that were all interesting. Well, most of them at least.
But this one poem stuck with us. It is about plums being in the icebox and being eaten by the person they were not intended for and that person is apologizing.
For some strange reason we got the biggest kick out of this poem.
Who wrote it?
Where they mad about their plums being gone?
What happened next?
Who leaves a note like that?
We had all sorts of questions concerning this poem.
When we moved to an apartment our junior year we started freezing grapes to have all the time. One day I came home and there on the fridge door was the poem. Nicely typed up with no signature.
And in the freezer. No grapes.

I miss you ladie!

Surprise Party

Last weekend was great. Shana, one of the best ladies to ever roam the earth, told me about this surprise party that was happening for a girl I had not seen in like two years. I had to go. Had to.
And oh how fun it was. Hubby drove us. Which is good. Because the guy Loni, birthday girl, married is from India and it is his custom to fill up any glass that may be half full. ALL NIGHT. I can't even tell you how many glasses of wine I had because it was never really empty.
Anyhoo, Loni looked great. She knew there was gonna be a surprise party for her but she did not know that Shana and I would be there. We were a success.

Shooting Stars

Ok. I'm 25. And I have NEVER seen a shooting star.
Until now.
I was walking yesterday morning (seriously, I am so fat right now and have to do something, don't say anything, I am, I have lost the same 10 pounds four times!!) and I saw a shooting star as I rounded the corner at my halfway point.
Then this morning, I saw another one as soon as I got out of my parking lot!
That's a good sign right?

Maybe because it's fall

I feel so out of place lately. Like nothing makes sense to me.
I don't belong where I am.
My life is not actually the life I am suppose to be living.
I have answers for nothing.
And questions for everything.
I feel an overwhelming sense of panic when I think about the future, because I can't see my future. For the first time in my life I can't picture myself older, doing things. I can't see past Christmas. I draw a huge blank. Is that some kind of warning?
I want to just live. Be happy with the life I have.
Honestly, I have nothing to complain about. My blessings have been many. Especially this year.
But this feeling of impending doom shadows me. It won't go away.
All I want to do is lay in bed and cry until my body is numb with emotion. Then maybe I will have found my way out of this . . .this feeling.

The birthday party pictures . . .

My wacky mom. She will hate me for this of course.

My dad, Derrell. Can't you tell how excited he is about his birthday?

Hubby and me.

My sisters.

My nephew Stephen.

My nephew Zach.

Self Checkout

"Shit, we don't have any ice cream."
"I'll go get it. The little cup size ones?"
"Ya."

I couldn't grab my purse fast enough. Probably should have asked Stephanie if she wanted to go with me. Or at least Alan. He sometimes isn't comfortable when I leave him alone with the family. Screw it. I need to be by myself. I need to calm down before she gets here. She has managed to piss me off before I even see her. That may be a new record.

"Hurry up pokey. How freakin long does it take to get out of a parking space?"

Don't cry. Keep it in. It will do you no good now. She's never gonna change. She has had so many chances. But it's like she lives to hurt, Mom. To drive that wedge between us all. Make us miserable. She can't do anything to try and help the situation. Not even show some respect to the rest of the family and show up for a birthday lunch on time. No, she has to be an hour and half late. FUCK!

"Excuse me, Where do I find the sweet n' low?"
"Aisle ten ma'am."
"Thank you."

How many freakin times have I had to tell myself to stop thinking about this. Stop agonizing over how hurt Mom must be. She is obviously going to keep inviting her over and keep trying to reach out to her. And she is obviously going to keep shitting on her. I have to keep my mouth shut today. I CAN NOT say anything to her. A. It wouldn't faze her a damn bit. B. She wouldn't listen and somehow would turn out to be the victim. C. The damage is done. What is me saying anything going to help? Nothing. God, it hurts. It hurts so much to feel like this. To watch my family seemingly crumble. We used to be so close. Laughter surrounded us. That free laughter. Not the tight, uncomfortable, there is something wrong but we should laugh to cover it up and maybe nobody will mention it kind of laugh like we do now. Does only hate remain? Is that it for our family?

"Please scan your first item now."

Do I need this book? Yes. I'll just get whatever I grabbed. I need the sweet n' low because we don't used regular sugar in our coffee and Mom never has anything else. I came for the ice cream. We are always forgetting our toothpaste, so we will leave this one here. It won't be to much.

"Your total is $20.28."

Ok. I'm gonna go back. I'm gonna put on the happy face. I am NOT going to think about how inconsiderate and hateful she is. I am just going to enjoy being with my family.

All My Children

Ok. Hope this works.

YOU SUCK!

Why must you take money that is not yours?
Why?
Why must you make semi-poor people have anxiety attacks by taking away their money and charging them bogus fees?
Why must you not actually deposit funds that person has given to your establishment to deposit when you say your going to, thus creating negative amounts in one's account and kicking in the overdraft protection?
Why must you be such incompentant a-holes everytime I call for information concerning MY money?
I hate my bank.
Of course, I am pretty sure I'm gonna hate any bank.

Happy HNT!

Why should I care?

It has come to my attention that a certain somebody I work with submits an inaccurate number of hours each pay day. This somebody puts down when she is suppose to be here, regardless, if she was or not.
There are about 72 hours a year she gets paid for when she was in fact, not present. Doesn't sound like a lot? That is $504.00 a year. That's an insurance payment, car payment, groceries for two months, etc.
And really, if I have to be truthful, that is not the big thing that bothers me. It is the fact that she consistently lies. That's no good.
I have the biggest problem with liars.
But I have to shut my (big) mouth. Smile at her. And choke on her deceptive aura.
The sad part - she is my friend. I really like her. But knowing this makes me . . . well, it makes me not want to be her friend.
So my question.
Why should I care?
How do I get past this fact since my boss is obviously ok with the situation. (Yes, he is most certainly aware)

OMG

OMG!!!!
It is for sure Halloween in the office. I just shoveled in my mouth one orange frosted with sprinkles cookie, the really good ones that make every other cookie in the world seem insignificant and one cookie with a witch's head made of icing, two gummie spiders and I am debating on what is next. The Nestle Crunch bar (mini of course) or the Hershey's milk chocolate OR the fun size M&M's.
Lord forgive me for the sugar consumption.

Ketchup Nazi

There was an awesome tent sale happening this afternoon. Tons of shirts for only $5 a piece. So the girls at work, and myself of course, headed over during our lunch break.
Because we shopped for to long we had to grab something quick to eat and take it back to the office. We decided on Wendy's because it was close.
I'm not a big ketchup eater, which is apparently good in this situation.
On of the girls asked for extra ketchup because they only put two in the bag. The lady behind the counter gave her only ONE more and then a look that said, "if you ask me for more I'm throwing bacon grease on your skinny ass".
Don't be a disgruntled fast food server!

PX made me do it . . .

10 Favorites:
Favorite Season: winter
Favorite Sport: to play? I don't. to watch? baseball
Favorite Time: early in the morning, when the birds start to chirp but it is still dark out
Favorite Month: November
Favorite Actor: Vince Vaughn
Favorite Actress: Reese Witherspoon
Favorite Ice Cream: Sweet cream w/mini marshmallows from Marble Slab
Favorite Food: ritz chicken
Favorite Drink: 7 and 7
Favorite Place: My grandma's house

9 Currents:
Current Feeling: anxious
Current O/S: what?
Current Windows Open: blogger create post
Current Drink: water
Current Time: 11:45 a.m.
Current Mobile(s) Used: motorola
Current Show on TV: no TV on
Current Thought: what?
Current Clothes: blk sweater, blk lacy tank, green leporad print skirt, blk knee high boots, mismatched socks

8 Firsts:
First Nickname: kimbo, i hate it, more than anything else
First Kiss: seventh grade, Jon, can't remember his last name right now
First Crush: Kyle Kemp
First Computer: not a clue
First Vehicle I drove: 1989 Nissan Maxima
First Job: receptionist at a hair salon
First Movie: ??????
First Pet: a gray tabby cat, max, my sisters made him mean and we had to give him away
First Shave: fifth grade

7 Lasts:
Last Chai (Tea) : dieter's tea, two weeks ago
Last Movie: dodgeball
Last Time I Drove: 8:00 this morning
Last Time Shaved: in the shower this morning
Last Web Site Visited: PX's
Last Software Installed: I don't install software
Last Pill I Had: aspirin, saturday

6 Have You Evers:
Have You Ever Broken the Law: there is such a fine line between lawful and not . . .
Have You Ever Been Drunk: well . . . yes
Have You Ever Climbed a Tree: I've been pushed up into a tree
Have You Ever Kissed Someone You Didn't Know: on occasions (when I'm drunk)
Have You Ever Been in the Middle/Close to Gunfire or Bomb Blast: does hunting count?
Have You Ever Broken Anyone’s Heart: nope

5 Things:
Things You Can Hear Right Now: the runner making a personal call on the company phone, my boss talking to another lawyer in the office, the ac shutting off, rustling papers, ticking clock
Things on Your Computer Table: lotion, nail file, mints, glasses, paper, post its, cell phone ( I had to see what kind I used), time card, batteries, certified mail supplies, etc.
Things on Your Bed: comforter, sheets, pillows, two stuffed turtles, clothes, hangers
Things You Ate Today: sausage breakfast croissant, so bad for me
Things in Mind: I have to potty

4 Places
You Have Been Today: the bathroom, my car, the office, and later I will tan

3 People You Can Tell Anything To: my mom, my husband, Lisa

2. Choices:
Black or White: black
Hot or Cold: cold

1 Thing You Want To Do Before You Die: Ride in a hot air balloon

If it was boring, it is PX's fault. I felt pressured!!

Call me crazy . . .

. . . but I miss the newness of relationships.

I miss the long talks about nothing and everything. I miss staying up late and watching infomercials because nothing else is on but you don't want to fall asleep and miss a moment together. I miss the awkward silences. The quiet laughs at each other. The daily phone calls (text messages for the daters out there now a days).

I miss the first dates. Taking hours to get ready. The way it feels when all your senses are on overdrive and your just waiting for him to put his arm around you or hold your hand. I miss when he actually does grab your hand for the first time, interlocking his fingers with yours. That incredible rush of sensation that shoots up your arm and washes over your body making you feel like you might burst with pleasure.

I miss the first kisses. The ones that have to be taken slow so you can adjust to the other person's style. And the sharp intake of breath as his hand slips under your shirt and rubs the small of your back.

I miss the attempts made to impress me. And the way it feels to know someone likes me enough to try to impress me. I miss starting something and seeing where it goes.

Call me crazy . . . but I miss the newness.

Busted

I was humming to myself as I went up the stairs to my office. Quite happy about the nice weather and yummy chicken salad sandwich I just had for lunch. Still a little upset about the Astros last night but I'm not worried. We'll get it tonight. I unlocked the door to the kitchen area instead of going through the copy room like I usually do. I thought I would grab a water before I absorbed myself in the files sitting on my desk. I look up as I remove my key from the door, my boss is there with a ominous grin on his face . . .

"Hey, Kimberly. How was lunch?"
"Great." (heart kicks up a notch)
"Do you know what happened to that bottle of Crown that was in the cabinet?"

shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

"Ya."
"Really, what?"


fuck fuck fuck
Ok, here's the thing, the girls I work with were having an uber bad day about a month ago. The hurricane was coming, one of them had to call off her wedding, I had to write a story for Sunday's paper, there were people at my house and I didn't want to go home, so . . . we opened the crown. And well, we drank it all. It was an impromptu party for three. But even worse is that we were drinking at the office. We then got tipsy and invited others to come join our party. Not so smart. I know. Do you think he is gonna fire me???

"It got drank, Bill"
"Oh, Ok then. I was just wondering."

Whew!

Dramatic?????

That's right.
Me.
Dramatic.
Dear hubby informed me a couple of weeks ago.
I got all high pitched and was like "what, I'm not dramatic! I'm . . . oh, I see now".
I was even dramatic about being dramatic.
That's no good.
And now I wonder how many other characteristics I have that I don't know about.

I'm a thief

FU had this on his blog and so I stole it . . .

Name someone with the same birthday as you.
My nephew

Where was your first kiss?
On a playground

Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else's property?
Does toilet papering count?

Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
Yes, but it didn’t hurt them cause I am weak little girl :)

Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people?
At church

What's the first thing you notice about the preferred sex?
Their hands

What do you order at the Coffee Bean?
No Coffee Bean here, but I get a tall regular at Starbucks

What is your biggest mistake?
That one would take some thought

Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?
Well, I carved a boyfriends initials in my knee when I was in junior high, and that hurt

Say something totally random about yourself.
I own over forty pairs of shoes

Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
Yes. Punky Brewster. Stop laughing.

Do you still watch kiddy movies or tv shows?
Both

Did you have braces?
Yes, and I liked them

Are you comfortable with your height?
No, I can’t reach a lot cause I’m so short

What is the most romantic thing someone of the opposite sex has done for you?
My husbands proposal was probably the best, roses, sweet words, candles, and sparkly thing to top it off

When do you know it's love?
When you can’t live without

Do you speak any other languages?
Not so much

Have you ever been to a tanning salon?
At least twice a week

What magazines do you read?
Jane and Us

Have you ever ridden in a limo?
Yes, and I love it

Has anyone you were really close to passed away?
Yes. The lady I used to clean house for passed away the second year I worked for her. It was so hard to keep cleaning for her husband. She was more than just someone I cleaned for.

Do you watch MTV?
Incessantly

What's something that really annoys you?
Stupid people

What's something you really like?
Salty foods

Do you like Michael Jackson?
I would have to say no. It really creeps me out how his nose looks like it fell off.

Can you dance?
Am I drunk?

What's the latest you have ever stayed up?
I was awake for two days making my mom her birthday present one year. My sisters and I were doing a scrapbook that took forever

Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room?
No, but I thought I was going to have to be once

Do you actually read these when other people fill them out?
Always

Reasons why I am not a Lady

. . . in no particular order

1) Road-rage
2) I talk about poo, poo cycles, poo types, all things poo related.
3) No clue as to which fork you are suppose to use for your salad.
4) I have a sailor mouth.
5) I'll drink beer from a can.
6) I have and will continue to burp, in public.

A Thought

My husband and I ( and when I say my husband and I, I mean me and he was there listening to what I have to say) had a very deep and soul reaching talk on Saturday.
Of course, it was induced by the many beers we had to drink in order to make it through the reception we were attending.
And while I enjoy those talks with him and we are all lovey on each other and what not, I feel worse for having it.
None of my fears, questions, etc., none of them, were resolved or addressed. That would require some input from hubby.
I have only managed to accumulate new fears and questions. A lot of them things I know he can't fix, and not wanting him to, but a reassuring word now and then. That would do for me.

Sing along

If your heavy and you know it clap your hands *clap* *clap*
If your heavy and you know it clap your hands *clap* *clap*
If your heavy and you know it then your thighs will surely show it, if your heavy and you know it clap your hands *clap* *clap*

The VCR ate my pilates tape. I have no motivation to get up early and "better" myself now. At least when I had the tape I felt guilty with it sitting there, judging me, telling me to get my ass moving.

out of order

I Can't eat anything because my tummy hurts.
It went on strike due to the virus. The one my husband had and decided it would be fun to give to me. Jerk!
I had to go home early from work on Monday and stayed home Tuesday.
Day three of virus, should have stayed home, ended up coming to work anyway. I can't do anything right today. And things are taking me twice as long to do. I am suppose to be paying the bills right now.
You see how that is working out for me.
This feels like the day that would never end.
I am starting to feel a little guilty for being paid today. I just went comatose in my chair for like 25 minutes.
Gross. I drooled.

Smartwater, electroyte enchanced water

"no water purifies better"
"no water hydrates faster"

"you hold in your hand a bottle of vapor distilled, electrolyte enhanced water, once you remove the cap and tilt the bottle into "drinking position", water will begin to flow through your body, purifying and rapidly rehydrating you, if you find the idea of being purer and moister disturbing, please place the bottle back where you found it and continue on your dirty, arid way"

I am not lying, this is totally the marketing idea of someone genius, and that genius works for Smartwater.
There are even tick marks on one side of the bottle that tell you what is happening to your body after you drink so many ounces.

1-cells admit they have an impurity problem
2-cells seek intervention
3-cells check into detox
4-cells get therapy for toxin withdrawal
5-cells are released from rehab
6-cells are cleaner than a christian rock song
7-cell-ebration

Now who doesn't want to buy a bottle of water that actually congratulates you on your purchase. I think it is important to feel as though you have done well in spending your money. And I won't lie. I am now addicted to this electrolyte enhanced water. Or maybe the bottle. Whatever.

Something I found to pass on

I find number seventeen to be the most important. Mostly because I do this. All the time.

1. Who was the first person to look at a cow and say, "I think I'll squeeze these dangly things here, and drink whatever comes out?"

2. Who was the first person to say, "See that chicken there? I'm gonna eat the next thing that comes outta it's butt."

3. Why is there a light in the fridge and not in the freezer?

4. If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a song about him?

5. Can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the carpool lane?

6. Why do people point to their wrist when asking for the time, but don't point to their crotch when they ask where the bathroom is?

7. Why does your OB-GYN leave the room when you get undressed if they are going to look up there anyway?

8. Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours? They're both dogs!

9. If Wile E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that Acme crap, why didn't he just buy dinner?

10. If quizzes are quizzical, what are tests?

11. If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, then what is baby oil made from?

12. If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?

13. Why do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star have the same tune?

14. Stop singing and read on..........

15. Do illiterate people get the full effect of Alphabet Soup?

16. Did you ever notice that when you blow in a dog's face, he gets mad at you, but when you take him on a car ride, he sticks his head out the window?

17. Does pushing the elevator button more than once make it arrive faster?

Rita Blows

A bunch of college kids painted that on a huge piece of plywood and stuck it in their front yard. I live in a college town.
The college town that all the evacuees from south Houston where told to go. My roommate's family is from the south Houston area. We had eight adults, one child, one pug dog, and two cats in 1100 square foot, three-bedroom apartment for three days.
I have never appreciated alone time as much as I do now.
The good thing, they didn't have to go home to destruction as they first thought they would.
But I have to be honest. I was in a mood for most of the time they were here. It wasn't that I didn't want to help them, or even that my house felt invaded. I kinda like playing uber fabulous hostess. It was that two days went by before any of them actually thanked my hubby and me. And really, I understand that you are stressed out and don't know what awaits you in a few days after Rita has blown through, but we weren't even asked. It was not an option for us to tell you no. And you take two days to say thank you??
Ok, I just sound bitchy now.
It really wasn't so bad. I got drunk a lot.

Imeldaisms

My mom has always had great advice. But as a daughter, it is my job to not listen to said advice, make mistakes she warned me against, and then write this post to let the world know that she was in fact . . . well, right.

1) Always look your best, or at least decent, when you are in public. You never know who you might meet/run into.

2) Never get in the car without a bra and clean underoos.

3) Don't back talk me.

4) Dust once a week.

5) Separate your reds, always.

6) Keep enough money in savings that if you have to leave you can.

7) Pray about your problems.

8) Pick your friends carefully.

I am sure there are more. But these are the ones I remember (and learned from).

Quirk # 2

I just had some yogurt for breakfast. And then I took a sip of my coffee. Ewww! Such an assault on my taste buds.
It’s like drinking orange juice after you brush your teeth.
Before I was 18, I couldn’t eat things that were touching other foods on my plate. All foods had to be separated. And even now, I don’t like when they touch, but I have learned to move past the irrational anxiety to enjoy a normal eating experience.

Quirk # 1

I make my bed while brushing my teeth.
There are times I will just brush my teeth.
But I haven't made my bed for at least three or four months without brushing my teeth at the same time.
I noticed yesterday.
Also, I walk around while washing my face and I tap my foot, always, when I am picking out clothes in the morning.

Big Salad

Does anyone watch the Seinfeld reruns?
I love them. Can't watch them enough. There is one where George buys lunch for Elaine, but she doesn't know it because someone else hands her the bag and he gets all George like about it and tells her that she should have said thank you to him because he bought the "big salad" not the other person.
And while that was a great episode, I was thinking how I am sorta like George.
I want the credit. I want to be known as the one who did that something nice or bought someone something.
But that makes me sad. Because I really want to be a generous person without feeling like I should be getting something in return.

Am I always gonna be a selfish person?

1989 called...

I spent yesterday planning a baby shower.
I was agonizing over colors and wording and what not.
Got a small migraine.
But it was totally worth it.
I got to see my friend Shana's dad wearing a sweatband.
You have to appreciate the humor in watching a fifty-year-old man in shorts, tucked in t-shirt and sweatband walk around like it is totally normal and not at all goofy.
Honestly, I love him because of that, not in spite of.
Also,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LISA!!!

Fat Mix

I was chatting with a friend last night about how I need to just stop eating for a while.
Then maybe my body will begin to eat the fat that seems to cling to my mid section.
But what we realized is that even when we think we are making good choices on snacks and what not . . . it's fat.
Fat disguised as a good, healthy choice.
Why do the food companies do this?
If they made a snack that did not make you want to immediately regurgitate what you ingested after looking at the nutritional information, then maybe they would sale more.
Seriously!
Don't put peanuts and other healthy looking garbage in a package. Label it so it looks innocent. Have us eat the entire thing. And then leave us to nonchalantly look at the back panel and see there are not one, or even two servings of your fat mix, but 5.
And to the ladie that this happened to so recently, I am outraged for you.

An Ode

Such excitement and relief washed over me today
So much in fact I think I screamed hooray

I knew when I found you crumpled on the closet floor
My stressful mornings would be no more

For you are here to make it right
Each and every day, each and every night

No more being crazy with moods and bordering on insane
You, my Fat Pants, have brought me joy I can not explain

The River

Alan's boss invited us to camp and float the river with a huge group of people. We said sure. Sounds like fun.
Did you know that behavior on the river closely resembles the behavior one would find on Bourbon street in the middle of Mardi Gras?
Boobs everywhere.
One guy in our group was in charge of the jello shots and he decided to hand out a shot for each boob he got to see. Many a stranger took him up on his generous offer.
By the time he made it up to the camp site, he couldn't even remember the total number of boobs he was shown. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that he was passing out drunk at that point.
Apparently, for every shot he gave away, he took one as well.
After dinner, all the drunk people wanted to go dancing. I opted to sit by the citronella camp fire and get tipsy with rum and coke.
And in true camping fashion, I poured citronella wax on my foot in the process of moving the candle to the center of our circle. No mosquitos for me.

Two gray hairs

Things that used to be funny to me, are not.
People I used to love to be around, annoy me.
And all these little things that I used to want and strive for, mean nothing to me.
I just want to like my job, love my husband, go to sleep early, have enough money to not be worried all the time, spend a few nights out of the year with my friends, and drink a good cup of coffee in the morning. (oh! and be skinny of course, but I don't think that will ever go away, even with age)
Does that sound old to you?
Because it sounds old to me. And I think maybe my views and reactions to things are changing because I am getting old. Which I know, I should embrace,and blah, blah, blah.
But seriously, it scares me. Quite frightful indeed.
Good news, my broker gave me hella good advice the other day about retirement . . . I'm gonna be millionaire when I am 65.

SHIT!

I just found out that my Grandmother did in fact send a card but it was to the wrong address so it got returned to her today.
Don't I feel like the biggest bitch ever!

WTF?

My grandma forgot my b-day.
And really, I shouldn't be upset because it just makes me sound selfish, but it really hurts my feelings.
Plus, I as totally counting on her $50 to buy a new outfit for a wedding I have to go to.
I talked to her yesterday to wish her a happy b-day and nothing about my b-day was mentioned.
No, "sorry I forgot honey, your card is in the mail".
Dammit grandma!

Noise

I think my coffee may be to strong.
I almost gave myself a heart attack this morning when I came into the office. I am, of course, the first one there so it is dark and I have to make my way to the front door to turn on the lights.
While doing so this morning, I imagined someone had followed me and gotten in before the back door closed. I kept hearing these noises that I couldn't place.
Then I couldn't see anyone behind me, so it had to be a ghost.
Right?
I mean, if you are for sure hearing noises, can't see anyone, know you are alone, then it has to be that a ghost is around.
But in reality, it was the runners radio. She left it on last night.
And my imagination might be ever so heighten because I am still afraid of the dark and being alone in it.
Whatever.
I hear being scared raises your metabolism.

OUCH!!

Alan was being so super sweet last night, since it was MY birthday and all. He decided to give me a massage with my most favorite smelly lotion.
Problem?
Yes.
He kinda forgot about my whole second degree burn thing on my leg and rubbed off one of the blisters.
Smelly lotion burned my burn. I wanted to cry. But he felt really bad. And really, he didn't mean to.
But I am wondering how bad that is for the whole healing process. Any thoughts?

33 Yaupon Loop

So . . . for my b-day we went camping. Courtney's blog really sums up the experience, check it out.
thoughts-on-life.blogspot.com
I just wanted to add, that on friday while we were putting up the tents (not a good thing in the dark) I ran into the propane lamp that Alan bought us and have second degree burns on my legs.
I look like a burn victim!!!
Happy birthday me.

Carrer Woman "Kim"

I went for a second interview with a law office yesterday. My first was back in January. They filled the position with someone who had experience. They called me a few days ago wanting to know if I was still interested in a position with them. I was.
I am now a legal assistant for the law office of Bill Youngkin.
That's right.
I got the job.
I am super excited.
Wanted to pee myself.
I have dreams of greatness and a relief beyond words to know that I will not be one day without a job.
Since my old job found somebody yesterday to replace me, I don't have to finish my last week. And well, of course Mr. Youngkin wants me to start working as soon as I can.
Which will be Monday.
Monday I shall start a new life.
Or so it feels.

Downer-one of the lawyers called me Kim. Do I correct him on Monday or just let it be?

I give you 4.25 stars!

I just got back from San Antonio.
Alan and I went on a mini vacation to celebrate our two-year anniversary. Neither of us had a clue what to get one another, so we took a trip.
So much fun.
Went to the Zoo. Saw some monkeys and turtles.
Ate some Mexican food on the river. Walked around. Ate some more Mexican food on the river. Very good there you know.
And then last night around 11pm the fire alarm goes off in our hotel and they evacuate everyone. I am yelling at Alan to hold on and don't leave I am sans bra and am not evacuating till I get one on.
So there we are, sitting under trees on a rock ledge, in our pjs, with birds pooping on us. But at least I hadn't been evacuated from my reception and can't sit down because of my oh so very white dress. Poor girl. Actually, there were three of them.
We finally get to go in after an hour of watching the firemen calmly and slowly walk into and out the hotel several times. Looking like they weren't working at all.
We have to take the stairs. I get claustrophobic when elevators are really packed.
Did I tell you we were on the ninth floor?
Plus side: We wake up to a letter telling us last night's stay will be reduced by fifty percent because of the inconvenience caused by one of their air conditioners blowing up.
Also, they only charged us for one day of valet parking.

Career Change???

I quit my job.
That's right.
In three weeks I shall have a new job.
Or I shall be a nervous wreck trying to find one.
Whichever it is, I feel so free right now. I feel like I can do anything. I can accomplish whatever task I set my mind to. I feel like I am a new and happier woman.
I feel a little nauseated. That could be from the amount of coffee I have just had on an empty stomach though.
I won't let it worry me. Not today.
The first day I search for a new or improved position in life!
If it is not to much trouble, please send good vibes my way. Feeling a little apprehensive. Starting to second guess myself.
Damn mind. Stop thinking!

Zachery Alan

My friend Heather had her baby. July 13th. He was 8 lbs 2 oz and 20 and a quarter inches long.
Her and her husband Brett have this glow about them that is undescribable. If that's a word.
I am such the envious person these days.
Zach is perfect. And so tiny. And I already love him so very much.
It is so different to be an "aunt" to a friend's baby then it is to your siblings. I am much more afraid of messing up.
I wish I had a picture to download. I can't even explain the beauty of this child.

Gas Station It Is

I have this friend. I won't tell you his name because I am honestly going to describe something he should be ashamed of. He won't because that is the kind of guy he is. But he should be.
He lives about two hours from me. So before I get on the road to his house I had coffee and a huge diet coke. About ten minutes from his house I have to potty. Naturally. Well, Paige is with me and she has been to his house. She informs me that it might be in my best interest to use a gas station bathroom. Seriously??!! Yuck! The town we are in is certainly not known for their cleanliness.
I can't find suitable gas station.
"Are you sure it is that bad?" I ask her innocently. I mean, he is a boy, so it probably isn't clean, but I've done worse.
So we arrive and he points me in direction of bathroom.
The floor is dirty, potty not so bad.
I have decided I will attempt usage.
It has a smell I can't really place.
I sit on toilet.
It moves.
A lot.
I thought I had broken the damn thing.
It almost threw me off.
I had to brace myself by holding my hands against the wall in front of me.
Which isn't clean either by the way.
Then, when I have managed to wipe and stay on toilet without dripping on myself, I go to flush. But it won't.
I have to reach my hand in the tank part and pull up on the chain.
Didn't I feel classy.
After I rinsed my hands I noticed there was nothing to wipe them off on, except for the crusted towels lying about.
I passed. My jeans worked well enough.

Rethinking

I have really been good about getting up in the morning and going to walk/jog and then some mornings following that with a little Pilates. But I am rethinking the whole thing.
Reasons?
There are few. But what else do I have to complain about?
1. I haven't lost any weight because of exercise
2. My heart does not feel healthier
3. I am tired
4. I am hungrier during the day
5. Odd muscles are randomly sore
6. I get freaked out every morning when leaving my complex because this totally strange person has taken to putting out a statue of an Owl at dusk and removing it before the sun totally comes up. I know this is a statue. But the damn thing scares me nonetheless.
7. A skunk almost got me yesterday. Fast little critter.
8. And today, I saw a bug that would be the devil if the devil were in bug form. I almost stepped on it. Instead I veered and screamed. I'm sure the people who live in that neighborhood were thankful that I alerted them to the dangerous bug situation so early in the morning.

Texas Pneumatic Tools

For years now, I have passed a place called Texas Pneumatic Tools on my way home and to my grandmother's house. I never really thought about it. It was just one of those nice red brick complexes with manicured lawns and high white iron fences.
So yesterday on our way back from Dallas, Alan is driving and I start to think about this Pneumatic Tools place.
Well, seing as how I am stupid and and unlearned about anything except what is already in my own little world, I ask him, "what is that place?"
He informs me that Texas Pneumatic Tools is what we laymen would refer to as a looney bin.
Strange.
Not sure if I totally believe him.
He knows I am gulliable so he could be telling me anything.
But then again, that would explain the fences.
Does anyone know for sure?
Tell me. Please.

Whenever I drive for a long period of time, my mind automatically switches to deep mode and I address feelings and thoughts that I normally suppress because I have not the time to entertain them.
Point.
I realized this weekend as I was driving to Houston, and much of the surrounding cities, that I miss my friends.
Of course I have some friends in town that I talk to and hang out with. But I miss my college friends. We were such a fun circle. And I really don't feel like myself without them in my life.
Damn, I hate growing up.
I miss Courtney and the crazy way she had of making something ordinary into something funny or dramatic.
I miss Laurie and her quiet reserved manner. And the way she could never poop unless she was alone in the dorm.
I miss Shana "in the raw". You always knew exactly how she felt about something. That girl rarely holds back.
I miss Sandra and her constipation.
I miss Dianne and her prim and proper way.
I miss Lisa. My first best friend. The girl who taught me it was okay to be silly and okay to be myself. Even if the world wasn't ready for me.
No matter who I meet or make friends with now doesn't compare to these ladies. And I miss them with all my being.
And I miss who I was with them around.

*sigh*

Ok
10 days
I spent 10 days in a luxurious suite at the fabulous Rio Hotel and Casino.
I miss it already.
Was totally glad to be back in the same time zone as my hubby and to spend some alone time with him. But Vegas totally spoke to my wild, carefree side. I was actually sad when we were driving away. I left a piece of myself there.
So much happened, I can't even begin to blog about.
But there is one night I must share.
Lisa came to visit the first weekend we were there. Super cool. So much fun. We got to see naked men together.
Anyhoo, the first night she gets there we go to the Voodoo club. It is on the 51st floor of the Rio and it has an outside part where you can hang out and look at all of Vegas.
It was awesome.
We arrive, get our drinks, scope out a spot to stand and begin to catch up on friend business and what not.
Two guys approach us. One guy, we will call him Mike (I think that was really his name, can't be sure) had totally been eyeing Lisa before so I knew he was wanting to talk to her.
They come to us under the pretense that Mike's friend needed my help to dance because he was so completely awful. Which was true. I watched him do the robot stuff. I told him to stop. He didn't. It was bad.
Anyhoo, we end up meeting all of Mike's friends and hanging with them all night. Good guys. Liked them a lot. Especially because this one guy Joe totally tried to protect me when this really scary old guy was harassing me.
What old guy? you may be saying. I shall tell.
I go the bar, Lisa needs a long island ice tea, I might as well get a beer.
Guy who is at least 60, with horrid teeth, drunk off his ass, in 1970's jacket gets extremely close to me and tells me that I smell great. "Thanks"
"No, really. Just wonderful. Can I buy you a drink?"
"No thanks, I already have a tab."
"What about a hotel? Can I buy you a hotel?"
"Um, no, I already have one."
"Really?"
"Ya, a whole one."
I then place my order while he continues to get closer, unaware of the dread and fear that I believe was apparent in my eyes and the not so subtle way I continued to press my self against the bar in hopes to distance myself.
He then begins to rub my back.
Eww! Stop! Does anyone see this????
They do not.
Old nasty then picks up my drink.
"That's mine!"
"Oh sorry" Slaps down a hundred.
"No, that's ok, I already paid for it."
"Well, fine then." He says this with a little bit of an attitude, like I was rude to him or something!
I run back to group. Tell Joe. He stands in the way to block Old nasty's view of me.
A shower was needed.
But wait. It gets better.
Lisa, Paige and I are at the pool the next day. I go to the bar (maybe that was my problem) to get Paige a strawberry margarita.
And who is sitting at the end on a bar stool . . . drunk???
That's right. Old nasty.
He yells hey little girl at me. I ignore. Grab drink. And practically knock over some waitress on my haste to return to my lounge chair and rid myself of the disgusting feeling that has washed over me.
That was just one day. You can imagine the rest of the trip.