Archive | April, 2010

Canine Betrayal

30 Apr

Dachshunds: Compact for easy storage.

My usual night-time lap buddy has changed teams.  Curse you, Jordan, for your tempting body heat.  And curse you, natural tendency to be cold.  My body has betrayed me…along with my dog.



The Glory of a Hot Car

29 Apr

Jordan took me on a date for lunch today.  Well, he’s not aware that it was a date, but that’s what I’m calling it.  A) We ate lunch out, a.k.a. not at home.  B) He bought the meal.  C) I gave him googly eyes across the table.  Totally a date.  D) He even bought me a chocolate waffle cone for dessert.  Score!

(Though, the googly eyes were due to the fact that Jordan had just had his eyes dilated and they were looking pretty freaky.  It was like watching a train wreck, you didn’t want to look, but you couldn’t help yourself.)

We dined on Chick-fil-A which was succulent as always.  Gosh, I love a giant chicken breast clutched between two steamy hamburger buns.  (Whoa now, don’t get all worked up…it’s just a sandwich!)  Once the chicken sandwiches were decimated and I had a waffle cone in hand, we strolled about the mall.  Usually I would have parked it in the food court by the fountain, but since Jordan was all bug-eyed, the light spilling in over the fountain was blinding him.  We opted to find a bench to sit on instead. 

(Of course, Jordan had to test his theory on old men and mall benches.  Wherever you go, there will always be an elderly gentleman sitting on the bench in front of Victoria’s Secret…always.) 

We ended up on the bench in front of BAM!  (Books-A-Million for those of you who are against abbreviations.  I usually am, however I can’t resist one that has an exclamation point at the end of it.)  I had to inhale my waffle cone at this point because it was almost time to go back to work.  Not an easy task since waffle cones should be eaten with care.  You have to take is slow to enjoy the waffly-goodness….plus you have to give the ice cream time to melt into the end of the cone.  The tip of the cone is the best bite.  Really.  It is. 

With a quick, cold & chocolate-y kiss, I was out the door and on the way to my car.  I was freakin’ freezing.  I’m naturally cold-blooded and the ice cream had raised my goose bumps to Defcon 5.  However, relief was only a few steps away.  There it sat.  The most glorious sight your eyes could ever behold.  A pollen-coated Honda Civic….V4 even.  Oh yeah.  Locked inside my tiny car was a cocoon of hot air.  Plopping down into a hot car is the most wonderful feeling in the world when you’re cold.  I love it.  Even more so than holding paper fresh from the copier.  I sat down quick and slammed the door behind and let the heat rush over me.  My goose bumps screamed for mercy, but there was none.  (A moment of silence for my fallen goose bumps….thank you.)

Sitting in a hot car after exiting a cold mall is quite possible one of my favorite things.  Definitely in my top ten.  It’s equal to the first sip of a canned, carbonated beverage.  You know the feeling.  Glorious! 

So, how was your lunch?

Laundry Fail

28 Apr

Well, I’ve fallen off the wagon again.  The laundry wagon.  I can’t seem to wash, dry, and put away a load of clothes all at one time.  I like to wash and dry them and then let several loads of clean laundry ferment together on my couch before hanging them up.  My laundry is very social.    

After the kids were put to bed last night, I decided to tackle the mountain of clothes that had grown to dangerous heights.  (The only reason I did so was because Jordan agreed to sit in the living room with me while I did it.  I hate to fold laundry by myself…because I’m a dork.)  It only took a half episode of Mythbusters to get everything put away.  Impressed with my laundry skills, I decided to go ahead and wash a load of jeans.  Fisher was running low on “cool” pants and I was feeling frisky.    

That frisky feeling vanished when I went to throw the jeans into the dryer.  The dryer was drying, but it wasn’t tumbling.  Nooo!  *shaking a dryer sheet at the sky*  Curse you, GE!    

After a few minutes of mourning, I did the only thing I could:   

In Lieu of a Clothes Line


I converted the library into a drying station.  (I know, I’m a genius.)  My entire library is draped in damp denim.  It’s kind of impressive, but mostly sad.  I even entertained erecting a clothes line in my back yard to conserve energy…but only for a few minutes.  Can you imagine clean/damp laundry coated in pollen?  How about a Corgi and a Dachshund running about my backyard with unmentionables clutched in their teeth?  No, a clothes line would never do.    

I felt confident that my spur of the moment solution would be effective.  Draped across furniture the correct way with the ceiling fan set on high should do the trick in a couple of hours.  Wrong.  This morning the jeans were mostly dry…and by mostly I mean everything but the crotch.  No one wants a damp crotch.    

Alas, the children and I had to dress up today…in khakis of all things.  (The shame!)  I flipped the jeans while I was at home for lunch.  I’m hoping that my treating them like pancakes, they’ll be dry by this evening.  The bad thing is that clean socks are running low in our household.  Either the dryer will magically repair itself tonight, or we’ll all be sporting sandals tomorrow.

My Lobster is Another Year Older

26 Apr

I’m back, though still not 100%.   I won’t go into details, except to say if hell were a stomach virus, I’d be parked in the seventh circle.      

What better way to ease back into a normal routine than with a birthday post?  And what better person to celebrate a birthday than my husband, whose birthday was yesterday.  (Insert collective “Awww” here.)       

Green Lantern Cake Courtesy of my Mother


It was a modest celebration with homemade Brunswick Stew and the best cake a person can ask for.  My mother truly makes the best cakes…delicious.  Not wanting to show up with the usual balloon/flower covered cake, she went with a Green Lantern theme.  It was nice to pass up a generic design for something a bit more personal.  Jordan illustrates comics and, of course, enjoys reading them as well.     

Happy Birthday? Check.


Gosh darnit, aren’t we just the bees knees?  (Ever since watching The Princess and the Frog I’ve been dying to use that phrase.)     

The best part of his birthday came in the form of a trip to the movies.  I can’t remember the last time that just Jordan and I went to the movies together.  Don’t get me wrong, I looove animated movies.  Heck, I watch them even when the kids are in bed.  However,  the occasional movie that isn’t animated and has a rating higher than “PG” is nice too.       

Sadly, the movie we wanted to see won’t be shown in our local theater.  Evidentially having the word “Ass” in the title is too much for our town.  (Though, they had no problem showing “Inglorious Bastards.”)  So, we drove an hour to the next semi-sizable town to see “Kick Ass.”  Even though the marquee read “Kick A–,” at least they were showing it.  Score one for us!  The theater, though apparently brand new, was almost deserted.  Just how we like it.  Wink  In fact, we were the only two people there for the 4 o’clock showing.  Double score!       

The movie was, in my humble opinion, fan-freakin-tastic.  I absolutely loved it.  (Take that, Ebert!)  Was it something that everyone would like? Absolutely not.  But I definitely wouldn’t say it was any more “morally reprehensible” than any other movie that has been produced in the last year.       

It was the perfect way to spend a birthday.  Just the two of us in front of a big screen of glorious-ness.  Free to cackle as loudly as we wanted to.  Ahhh.  Bliss.       

Happy Birthday, my lobster.

Phenergan Dreams

23 Apr

If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t blogged all week.  You have a nasty stomach virus to thank for that.  I like to refer to it as Puke Fest 2010,  but you can call it what you’d like.  With a day-long visit to the ER to make sure that my Gallbladder didn’t need to come out, I’ve spent the better part of the week doped up on Phenergan and asleep.

(I refuse to call the ER the “EC.”  I know that it’s not a room and that calling it a Center is a better description, but I’m a bit old-fashioned and can’t seem to let go.)

I’ll skip all the juicy, descriptive bits and jump right to the good stuff: Phenergan dreams.  One was far too horrific to recount, so I’ll skip it.  However, last night’s Phenergan fiasco is downright hilarious:

It’s 5AM and all is asleep…except for Jordan, who has been awoken by my incoherent babbling.

Me: “Mumble, mumble, mumble….Nutmeg.?”

Jordan: “What?!”

Me: “Mumble, mumble, blah, blah, blah, Nutmeg!”

Jordan: “Are you saying something about Nutmeg?!”

Me: “Yes! Nutmeg!  The spice!”

Jordan: “Why are you mad at me?!”

Me: (Patting Jordan on the head like a pet goat) “I’m not mad at you!”

….and I dipped back into a deep slumber once again.

Right-O.  I, of course, don’t remember a thing.  However, Jordan remembers the exchange quite clearly and finds it utterly hilarious.  I think it gets funnier to him every time he thinks about  it.  Glad my drug-induced sleep-rambling is entertaining.  Wink

Golden Oldie Brigade Strikes Back

16 Apr

Old people do not like me today.  I hate to say “old people” because it sounds immature, but they are people who are old…so there you go.  How else can I say it….the elderly?  Yes, that’s better.  The elderly do not like me.  In fact, they are out to take me down.  I can totally take them on, but who beats up the elderly?  Right.  No one.  Even if it’s in self-defense, I’d still get in trouble.  Siiigh.

The elderly launched their campaign against me at lunch today.  A nonagenarian and his wife were cruising about the mall parking lot in their Buick town car at a cool 3 MPH….possibly less.  You’d think that at such a low speed that I could easily escape them.  Wrong.  Mr. Shar Pei  Face tried to run me off the road and into some parked cars.  What the frak, man?  Thanks to my expert maneuvering skills, I swerved around him and even scored a front-row parking space.  U-turn FTW!

I scurried into the mall before he tried to run me down again.  I only had about twenty minutes to spare, so I decided to get some Chick-Fil-A to eat in the food court.  However, the golden oldies brigade got me again.  Not only was I skipped in line…I was pushed out of the way!  Before I knew it a frail, stooped over man shuffled up behind me and body bumped me out of line.  Literally.  I kid you not.  How was that possible?!  He can barely walk but he can muster enough strength to give me a belly bump?!  Crazy. 

Needless to say, I’m steering clear of the frail and infirm for the rest of the day.  I value my life.

White annnd unshaven

15 Apr

So, this morning I didn’t feel like shaving my legs.  So sue me.  It was just one of those moments where I was feeling rebellious…tapping into my inner hippie you might say.  No matter, I was going to where pants.  No one would ever know.  Except, at the last second, I forgot about my pants-plans.  Forget the fact that my legs are so white they’re transparent, I wanted to wear a skirt.  So I did.  Except, I didn’t shave my legs.  When did this realization occur?  As I sat down at my desk this morning and my ankles rubbed up against one another.  Everyone knows that unshaved ankles are the worse.  Why is that? 

Anyway…my legs are kind of sad today.

In othe random news:

My parking skills have never been the best.  I blame my short comings on Honda.  I can’t help that they can’t design a car that is aerodynamic and high off the ground.  I may have a slight tendency to run into those cement markers at the end of parking spaces. 

Each morning, I pull into work and proceed to park.  I don’t want to hit the marker, but I don’t want to park four feet away from it either…because then I’d be advertising the fact that I can’t park.  Therefore, I usually end up running into the darn thing in an attempt to park properly.  It wouldn’t be so bad if I was the only one there to see it.  However, the maintenance men always get to work before I do.  They stand around in the parking lot waiting for me to arrive and unlock the office.

My parking was so bad once morning that they’ve now started to rate my attempts.  I scored a 10 yesterday, but only an 8 today…a far cry for the zero I got last week.  The zero was pretty spectacular.  Siiigh.  I’m such a girl.