Cynical Optimism

Put Some Lime In Your Coconut

2009-08-02T12:04:00.006-05:00

I feel like I'm always apologizing to you folks for not blogging. *sigh* The truth is, I'm just busy. And I'm not writing, which makes me cranky. And you know what? I don't like blogging cranky.

I do like blogging cupcakes, though. And my Coconut Key-Lime Cupcakes seems to get a lot of hits on this blog! Every. Single. Week. I find someone searching for those. It's just wild.

So, here they are and then hopefully, later this week, I'll blog about our annual family reunion. I still haven't gone through the pictures yet!

First, you want to do your filling. It needs to set up in the fridge and get nice and chilly.

Key Lime Pie Filling
Will fill 48 regular cupcakes with a little more than a teaspoon each or 24 with a tablespoon/ 325° oven

4 large or extra large egg yolks
1 14oz can sweetened condensed milk
½ cup fresh key lime juice (approx. 6 – 8 limes)
2 teaspoons grated lime zest

1. Preheat oven to 325°.
2. Beat the egg yolks until they are thick and turn light yellow.
3. Turn mixer off and add the sweetened condensed milk.
4. Turn speed to low and then add half of the lime juice.
5. Once the juice is incorporated, add the remainder of the juice and mix until blended.
6. Add the grated lime zest and stir in by hand.
7. Pour the mixture into a regular glass pie dish (or any glass dish which will fit inside a larger baking dish/pan).
8. Set dish with mixture into a larger pan. Fill larger pan half full of hot water.
9. Place in oven and bake until custard is just set in the middle, about 13 minutes.
10. Remove from the oven and carefully remove the pie dish.
11. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate at least 3-4 hours or overnight.

Now, let's move on to the cupcakes themselves, the stars of the show, the package to contain the yummy goodness of key lime filling...

Coconut Cupcakes
24 regular cupcakes / 350° oven

2 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups sugar
4 large eggs, room temperature
2-2/3 cups all-purpose flour
1-teaspoon baking powder
1-teaspoon baking soda
1/4-teaspoon salt
1 cup canned coconut milk (shake can well before opening)
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup shredded sweetened coconut

1. Beat butter on high until soft, about 30 seconds.
2. Add sugar. Beat on medium-high until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
3. Add eggs one at a time, beating for 30 seconds between each.
4. Whisk together flour, baking powder, and baking soda in a bowl.
5. Measure out milk and vanilla together.
6. Add about a fourth of the flour to the butter/sugar mixture and beat to combine.
7. Add about one third of the milk/vanilla mixture and beat until combined.
8. Repeat above, alternating the flour and milk, ending with the flour mixture.
9. Scoop into cupcake papers, about three-quarters full. (one ice cream scoop does really well)
10. Bake for 20-22 minutes until a cake tester comes out clean.**

** My oven runs hot, but even so… mine only took 13 minutes @ 325 to bake to a perfect pale golden brown. You might want to test one before baking all of them because you do not want to over-bake these - they will get very dry.

Next, while all of your cupcakes are cooling and your filling is chilling, it's time to hit the buttercream!

Coconut-Lime Buttercream Frosting
Enough to lightly frost 24 regular cupcakes

1 stick butter, room temperature
4-5 cups powdered sugar, sifted
1/4 cup canned coconut milk (shake can well before opening)
1-1/2 teaspoon lime zest
1/2 teaspoon lime juice (for an extra kick)

Optional - 1 - 2 Tablespoons of Coconut Rum (though you'll need to add a little more sugar or decrease the coconut milk for this)

1. Beat butter on high for about 30 seconds until soft.
2. Add 1 cup of sugar until incorporated.
3. Add half the milk and the remainder of the sugar and beat until incorporated.
4. Add zest; continue to add milk until you reach the desired consistency.

Note -- Here's where some alcohol can come into play. Either add a few Tablespoons of coconut rum to the mix when you're putting in the milk OR replace some of the coconut milk with the coconut rum. I can't remember which one I did... but I did not use any more than 4 Tablespoons (that I recall - it's very possible I used more because I was tasting the rum as I added... Heh.)

Now, you have filling chilling, cupcakes cooling, and frosting hanging out in the bowl. Let's toast some coconut for the pretty topping. Be careful with this part... it's burns easily!

Toasted Coconut

1. Using either sweetened or fresh grated coconut, place on tin foil lined pan in 325° oven, for about 10 minutes, tossing often to get an even golden color.

OR - this is what I did for the latest batch (and liked it much better than using the oven) --- toss some sweetened coconut into a non-stick skillet and warm over medium heat until it just starts turning golden brown. Remove and place in a ziplock back (left open to release condensation) until you use it. Save any leftover in the bag and use on other things --- I tossed a handful into some ginger teriyaki rice the other night and Oh! My! Heaven!

Finally, it's time to put together some cupcakes!

Though time-intensive, the results really are worth it.

To Assemble:

1. Using a small paring knife, go in at a 45 degree angle a scant 1/3" from the edge and cut out a circle from the top, leaving you with a cone. Flip the top over and cut off the cone.
2. Fill the cavity with teaspoon or so of filling. (I used a melon ball scoop, made it very simple)
3. Replace the top.
4. Frost with frosting.
5. Decorate the top with toasted coconut.

To Assemble with Coconut Rum in play:

1. Cut out your cone, as instructed above.
2. Using a spritzer bottle (seriously, I took a little old bottle of spray conditioner and cleaned the hell out of it and then filled it with rum), give the inside of the cupcake a good few sprays of rum.
3. Then, fill the cavity with filling, while singing the lime-in-the-coconut song.
4. Replace the top.
5. Spray MORE rum on it. OR if you want to get serious, get a basting brush and a small bowl of rum, brush the tops once, twice, three times with a nice rum coating. Set aside. Add a few spritzes to your mouth. Sing louder.
6. Continue until all the cupcakes are done.
7. Spray MORE rum on the tops (unless you basted them - then, they probably already have had enough. Spray it into your mouth instead). I sprayed each top about 5 times. If your spray bottle really spritzes, you might want to do less or just do it until you're sick of hearing yourself sing. I never get tired of hearing myself sing... so I did quite a bit, I'm sure.
8. Now, frost them and decorate with toasted coconut.

Take these gems to a summer BBQ or a heat-wave pool party. You'll be the talk of the town. They're refreshing and islandy and ooooh gimme more! I have to go bake these now.

New Distractions

2009-07-19T12:57:00.004-05:00

Hi, my name is Dragonfly and I'm a blogging failure.

Okay, so maybe that's a little harsh on myself. It's not that I FORGET to blog. I've actually pulled the blog screen up almost every day for the past two weeks... but then I get distracted by something shiny. Or possibly aliens have taken over my brain via HULU. <---- it's that one.

Dude. Hulu ROCKS! I am on the third season of Sliders right now and it makes working from home VERY COMFY. Just sayin'. My brain is the pink mush.

The other thing keeping me from the blog is my new boyfriend. His name is New House and we are already having relationship issues. I have discovered that being in a relationship with New House means I have soooooo many decisions to make and....

Have I told you how indecisive I can be?????

I have spent weeks and weeks on picking out lights and doorknobs and flooring and paint colors... and I'm kinda not having too much fun with New House any longer. Especially when Mr. Husband gets involved. He tends to conveniently forget conversations we've had about New House -- I've noticed these are usually involving decisions he doesn't necessarily agree with but thought it probably better not to disagree at the time... Thus he just forgets he agreed to something. Very passive-aggressive.

New House is not good for marriage. Really.

We will be signing a contract with the builder in the next week or so and then heading out to get the loan. I imagine there is umpteen deep dark VATS of stress being Fed-Ex'd my way right now. Anyone have a fairy wand to turn them into bubbly pink vats of giggle? I'd much prefer the giggle.

Other than that, things are just keepin' on. Our annual family reunion is next weekend and I have NEVER been so ready for late night Spoons playing and laughter out the wazoo. C-Boy and his kiddo are joining us this year so we are REALLY going to have a full house. The drinks of the year will be Pomegranite Margaritas and Mojitos. YUM. I have feeling the entire weekend is going to be a hangover if I'm not careful with those!

I will definitely report back on all the fun and games as we were told, "there are to be GAMES... as in "bring an extra pair of clothes for the games we are planning this year --- stuff to get us off our butts and bring on an appetite." This is all I know. No other hints. My ankles are saying, "Ummm... more hints please? Do we need to be wrapped?"

Well I am off. There are two very sweaty, VERY tan, sexy men hanging out on my father-in-law's roof and I mean to get in some eye candy before I start my afternoon!! Yes, I am shallow... but if I posted pictures you would TOTALLY understand.

2009-07-03T12:18:00.002-05:00

Being a fan of both Twilight and Buffy... this just tickles me.

3 Good Excuses

2009-06-14T12:51:00.005-05:00

Yes, I know how long it's been... again... since I've blogged. I'm SUCH a bad blogger! But I have excuses. Really, really good ones:

Excuse the 1st: The tendonitis in my hand flared up something awful.

---- You know those neat little Levaquin class-action lawsuit commercials you may have seen on TV lately? They dramatically go on about people getting ruptured tendons and tendonitis from taking Levaquin? And you should call their 800 # immediately to SUE SUE SUE! Well, yeah. I took the Levaquin (when I had that awful staph infection). And then? Look! I have tendonitis in my hand! That came from nowhere! So. Fun. At least I know what prompted it. The flare-up this week was from handwriting. I was working on my plot and BAM! Pain. Since then it's been heat wraps and Lidocaine patches. Yay.

It seems I may no longer write long-hand but have to take up typing my manuscript again. ERG! I love my new computer but I hate hate hate the new keyboard; it's very FLAT.

Excuse the 2nd: I have been in a MAJOR FUNK and I do not really like to share my funk with the world.

---- There have been some across-the-board "respect" issues in our house lately, to the point I shut down completely and announced "If things do not change here, I am packing a bag and going to the most expensive hotel I can find, where I will hang out and play Home Alone, ringing up the most massive room-service bill you ever saw!" It worked. And I did not even have to pack to prove my seriousness. But in the meantime, blogging was not my thing.

Excuse the 3rd: Mr. Clean snores.

---- When Mr. Clean and I first got married, he had this pillow... Oh My God, that pillow. It was this hideous hard foam thing straight from the 70's (though new at the time). It was heavy and hard and I could not figure out for the life of me how he slept on that thing. Fast forward some years... He STILL had that pillow. I became convinced that there was NO WAY a pillow more than 15 years old was NOT teeming with some sort of dust mite or bed bug or.... EWWWWW. SO I convinced Mr. Clean the pillow of joy and dreaming Had. To. Go. because I was sleeping right next to it and did not want invisible creepy-crawlies near my head or nose or mouth.

The pillow was tossed. A new one was bought. And the snoring started. I did not mind at the time because see, I snore. Badly. So I could not hear his snores over my snores. Heh.

Then, I had to start wearing a little mouth guard at night because I like to crunch-crunch-crunch my teeth and give myself the TMJ (tendonitis, again. What is it with me?!). Once I started wearing the pretty-footballer-esqe mouth gear.... no snoring on my part. Ever. Again.

Now three pillows and a year later, Mr. Clean's snoring has gotten to the point I do not go to bed until almost 4am. Sometimes 5am. I kick him (gently-ish) in his sleep to get him to stop. I push him over. I dream about holding my hand over his mouth and nose. And some nights, it's so bad, I shove him out of bed and make him sleep on the couch. Really, folks. I'm not an awful person. The snoring is HIDEOUS LOUD (this WITH the Breath-Right strips)!

One night, I had this horrible, earth-shattering mind-numbing pee-your-pants nightmare that I fallen into a DITCH and a growling zombie was pinning me down, attempting to eat out my brains. I woke up to find Mr. Clean had rolled over onto my arm and was snoring in my face. Of course, since I had just woken from a nightmare, I SCREAMED and borked the bejezus out of him. Because... hello! Zombie! Eating my brain! And then he woke up and screamed and borked me back because he dreamt someone was attacking him... Go. Figure.

So. I have not slept much lately... or not good solid rest-your-body-and-brain sleep. And a non-rested Dragonfly = a Dragonfly who is too stinkin' tired to blog (and cranky, to boot). You can actually track - on the blog - where the posts started to fall off the chart. That's when my sleep became jacked up.

Yesterday, I spent $80.00 on a PILLOW. A memory foam stop-your-partner-from-snoring expensive as sh*t pillow. And I tell you what... if it stops that ghastly noise? It is SO worth it. If not? *sigh* I will then spend another $80+ on another pillow that claims it will stop the snoring. And if that doesn't work? You will see me on Nancy Grace, having smothered my husband to death in his sleep.

In almost 19 years of marriage, there is one thing I have learned exponentially... messing with a person's sleep is... OMG... one of the worst obstacles a marriage can deal with. I can't even express the occasional loathing that I have experienced with this issue. And it makes me feel awful but DUDE! I Need! To! Sleep! You know?

So. That's why I have not been blogging.

And in a complete 180 degree turn... Tonight is the Season Premiere of TRUE BLOOD, Season 2!!! Yay! I am SO hooked on this show. Last season, we started True Blood Sundays... which involve a nice dinner and dessert and then True Blood viewing pleasure. Tonight I am cooking Beef Stroganoff w/ buttered parsley noodles. No dessert, unless C-Boy brings it because... Well, I don't have an excuse for that one. I don't feel like going to the store to get dessert items? Because my behind is too big for dessert? *shrug*

Either way - dessert or no - tonight is going to ROCK. I'm so excited!

Scene Change

2009-05-30T14:23:00.005-05:00

I realllllly need a change in scenery here. And since I can't hop in the truck and drive off to... I don't know... wherever, I'm eyeballing my wall of sticky notes. The stickies have somehow reproduced like rabbits and I can't even read what half of them say. I feel like they're mocking me every day I sit here and don't write.

I'm officially declaring today as The Day of Sticky Note Death.

(30 minutes later) Who knew it'd be this hard to go from writing that to actually REMOVING them?? Lordy. I'm having a hard time getting started. *sigh* Here goes nothing...

BEFORE:

Whew!! Once I finally got started (and Mr. Clean FINALLY stopped laughing and texting all our friends to say: "OMG, She's taking down the sticky notes! I think she's SICK or something!! Maybe she's lost her MIND!") it didn't take HALF as long as I thought it would and I tossed 3/4 of what I took down. The rest are in little bags, labeled: Plot, Advice, Music, Books, and Quotes. I might have taken them down but geeez... I couldn't toss them all!

AFTER:

The GOOD news (besides a nice lift of my shoulders) is that I found something deep, deep in the recesses of sticky note shadowland, which I had been looking for! Yay.

I can't believe the difference in look. It's blank. And empty. And....

I SO have a brand new package of sticky notes sitting RIGHT HERE next to me. Tra-la-la-la! Yes, I am a sick, sick individual with a sticky note OCD complex.

Houses and Butts and Texts, Oh My!

2009-05-24T11:59:00.004-05:00

Occasionally I find myself ~~whining~~ saying, "I'm bored." Or, "there's nothing to do." I must have said it one time too often or something because this past week? Oh. My.

As some of you long-time readers might remember, we'd planned on building a home a couple of years ago. Almost immediately the world began to work against us. We couldn't find a builder we liked. We couldn't find a plan we TRULY agreed upon (that didn't include me making umpteen changes). And then BAM! The economy tanked.

Fortunately for us, we'd made some financial decisions just prior which effectively saved our 401k's from being too damaged. Unfortunately for us, we live in Texas - one of the few states that was NOT in the least bit effected by the housing market tanking. Oh no! Our housing market here is just BOOMING! (must be all the people moving away from New York and California)

All in all, though? It ended up being a blessing in disguise.

We found a plan we both liked, which required minimal changes on my part. And then we found a builder we liked. Finally, that extra time allowed us to get rid of some extraneous debt we had.

So. FINALLY, last weekend, Mr. Clean and I met with a home builder.

Since then, I have been immersed in lists, web sites, and spreadsheets (that latter being the bane of my existence since I LIVE in them for work already... but I had to do it. It was the only way to keep myself sane with the lists and the costs and... *sigh*)

I have, over the past week, managed to pick paint colors, flooring, granite, light fixtures, door knobs & other hardware, and appliances. And now? I am TIRED. Do you KNOW how many doors are in a house? TWENTY-FOUR in this one... and that's not counting the one set of french doors and a door from the Master bedroom to the back porch that I nixed.

Okay, housing rant over. And since all of this is probably pretty boring to y'all, I have a few conversations from the past week - having nothing to do with house building:

This week's Dinner & A Movie (with C-Boy)

Mr. Clean: So, Doodlebug... how's your heinie?
Doodlebug: *crickets chirping*
Me (whispering to Doodlebug): Tell him your heinie is none of his business at the dinner table.
Doodlebug: Mom said not to talk about butts at dinner.
Mr. Clean: What? I was just wondering about that bug bite that was bothering him so much!
C-Boy: *laughing*
Me: Well gee, if you really want to go there. His butt is fine. And in case you're wondering, mine is just okay. A little too complacent and just a little bit procrastinatory.
C-Boy: Procrastinatory? Is that even a word?
Me: It is now. And how's your butt tonight? Is it feeling okay? Tired from working?
C-Boy: Mine needs a massage. Maybe a little slap and tickle. Other than that, it's hanging in there. Thanks for asking.
Mr. Clean: What about mine?
Me: Yours needs a weekend detention for constantly talking out of turn.
Doodlebug: Yeah, Dad... yours needs a time out for making all that noise! And then blaming me for it!
C-Boy: *laughing and then choking on food*
Me: *shrug* This is what happens when you bring up butts at the dinner table.

The next conversation is between Mr. Clean and Shaggy, via text. Shaggy is not always the most articulate so when I saw his word drama... it 1) made me righteously proud he was getting his point across succinctly and 2) tickled the heck out of my funny bone. It's official. The drama is genetic. He'd just recently re-taken the SAT in order to bring up his Critial Thinking and Writing scores.

S.A.T.'s

Shaggy (9:03am): What are my SAT scores?
Shaggy (9:10am): fwd: What are my SAT scores?
Shaggy (9:19am): fwd:fwd: What are my SAT scores?
Mr. Clean: I am looking!
Mr. Clean: You did better on critical reading with 490 and writing was up with 430. Overall it was higher and with your math at 640, you look really good.

At this point, Mr. Clean reports the texts just started pouring in so fast, he couldn't reply. Everyone at the office was laughing because his phone was non-stop vibrating all over the desk.

Shaggy: It's crap! I hate my life.
Shaggy: It's the worst test I've ever taken. I hate that. I want to burn those scores. I quit.
Shaggy: And don't say that's average cause I don't want to BE AVERAGE!
Shaggy: cause average is STUPID.
Mr. Clean (managing to get a text in): It is not as bad as you think.
Shaggy: You're right, is not bad... it makes bad look parade-worthy!! It's HORRENDOUS. It is level with mental retardation.
Shaggy: I don't even qualify for an NROTC scholarship!!!!!! That's pathetic.
Shaggy: I can say goodbye to Embry Riddle.
Mr. Clean: Just so you know... Embry Riddle is 450-580 for critical thinking and math is 490-620 and ACT is 21-27. You have 490, 640, and 28. I don't think you're going to have a problem. Call me when the pity party is over and we'll talk about it.
Mr. Clean: And you do qualify for the NROTC scholarship.
Shaggy: Pity party? I'm going to have a drowning party.
Shaggy: I'm drowning in my own moronic patheticness.
Shaggy: How did I get this stupid?
Shaggy: Seriously! HOW? It's not like I have a girlfriend to blame it on!
Shaggy: I'm just NATURALLY stupid, apparently.
Shaggy: I told you that 2nd test sucked butt.
Shaggy: I told you!
Shaggy: Okay, I'll call you now.

That, my dears, is a very hormonal 17 year old boy who really wants to get into Embry-Riddle. Welcome to my life on a daily basis. I expect next year is going to get even worse. Can't wait until we start sending out college applications. It'll be right about the time we start building this house. FUN!!!! Yeeeesh. Pray for me.

Oh, Mondays

2009-05-18T20:18:00.005-05:00

I don't know about you but Monday night dinners here are the Absolute Worst. I never know if I'm going to be done with work around 5pm (like I should be) or if it will drag on until 6 or 7. Trust me, it never works out that I'm done at five o'clock. Particularly not when I didn't manage to go to bed until 4AM (Again!! Something in me is So. Broken.).

As I'm trying to get myself back into a blogging schedule of some sort, I thought it'd be fun to post what I do for Monday Night Dinners. They're normally quick & simple and... best of all... CHEAP.

Now, don't get all ahead of me and expect a post every Monday night after dinner. In a perfect world, it'd TOTALLY happen. In my world, if there are leftovers from Sunday night... we are SO having them instead of me having to cook.

Tonight, I had a little more time than usual but a lot less enthusiasm for cooking so I took some sirloin burger patties out, along with my favorite rice (Jasmine), broccoli, and carrots. Here's what I ended up with:

Sirloin Patties w/ Mushroom Gravy

Ingredients
4 Sirloin burger patties
1 lb sliced mushrooms (white or cremini, your choice)
1 can Campbell's French Onion soup
1 can Campbell's Beefy Mushroom soup
1 cup beef stock
1 individually sized bottle red wine* (Cabernet or Merlot)
1 heaping tsp. minced garlic (2 cloves)
1 T. butter
Olive Oil
Salt (I like Kosher)
Pepper (freshly ground)

1. Season patties on both sides with salt and plenty of freshly ground pepper (really, go nuts with the pepper). Press into meat.

2. Heat a little olive oil (2-3 Tb.??? I don't measure, I just do two or three swirls) in a skillet on medium-high.

3. Sear sirloin patties on each side until nicely browned; about 2 minutes per side. Remove to a plate.

4. Add butter to hot pan. Once melted, add mushrooms and saute until golden.

5. Add garlic and saute 1 minute more.

6. Deglaze pan with about 1/2 to 3/4 of the bottle of wine, scraping up all the yummy bits.

7. Add soups and stock; bring to a boil. Continue cooking until sauce is reduced by half.

8. Add sirloin patties back to pan, making sure they're nicely settled down in their saucy hot tub. Give the whole thing a whirl with the pepper grinder to season.

9. Cover and simmer 10-15 minutes on low.

10. Serve over buttered rice or with mashed potatoes!

* The best money I've ever spent is buying those little 4-packs of individually-sized wine bottles. They are perfect-perfect-perfect! for cooking. I always keep a 4-pack of Chardonnay and one of either Merlot or Cabernet on hand and they have never let me down.

** A variation on this recipe: Instead of deglazing with wine, use 1/2 cup of brandy. Then, at the end, add a little bit of cream for a nice Brandy Cream sauce.

The whole thing took me a little more than 30 minutes to cook. Not bad for Monday night. Now, I don't know about you but I'm ready for some ice cream!!

Back... Sorta.. Kinda.. Almost

2009-05-17T01:31:00.002-05:00

Sooo. I played around and got a new blog look! Yay! And all of the TV shows are now starting to wind down so I can go from this...

To this:

(working towards any number higher than Z-E-R-O, that is)

Not much more to say right now. It's late (though early for my recent 4am bedtimes) and we have a builder coming out tomorrow at 2pm, to discuss house plans. Coming out to my house. Coming out to my house that is completely PITTED at the moment. ~sigh~

More posting soon! Or at least I'm hoping the new design kick starts my attention!

On The Fritz

2009-04-10T01:05:00.003-05:00

I died. Seriously. Okay, well the computer took the big plunge into the great darkness but I may as well have for all the trouble it's caused. Apparently, while visiting one of my favorite blogs... I picked up a generous case of The Nasty. And then couldn't find my restore disk for the computer -- which this particular Nasty requires. So. Mr. Clean had a bit of a "moment" and now I have a new computer. I'm still trying to get everything set up on it so no expectations of blogging soon.

*sigh* I swear it's like the world is conspiring against me when it comes to this blog.

I am writing though! Nothing huge because I'm getting ready for an enormous Easter Sunday BBQ bash here at the house, but it's something. And I think it's a Really Cool Something.

Y'all take care now!! Have a Happy Virus-Free Easter!

A MeMe... by Them

2009-03-22T14:58:00.003-05:00

I came across a little MeMe the other day, which just tickled me. Of course I had to do it. This little gem is 22 questions, to be answered by YOUR KIDS. It's sort of amazing and not just a little disturbing to find out what your kids think of you. Enjoy!

1. What does your Mom always say to you?
Doodlebug: You say, "clean your room." And, "time for bed." Oh, and you're always saying, "Do you have homework?" (the last said sotto-voice sarcastic)
Shaggy: You tell me you love me a lot. <--- he's a keeper

2. What makes Mom happy?
Doodlebug: A happy kid and not being alone; like when I get home from school.
Shaggy: When everyone in the family is happy. Cranky kids don't make for a happy Mom. Isn't that what you say?

3. What makes Mom sad?
Doodlebug: A kid being punished... like me. And being stressed.
Shaggy: When everyone argues with each other.
(I think they have "sad" confused with "annoyed")

4. What does your Mom do that makes you laugh?
Doodlebug: I don't know; I can't remember <--- apparently I don't make him laugh enough!
Shaggy: You tickle me, like a Loser! (Yes, folks... my favorite thing in the world is to tickle my 17 y.o. until he pees)

5. What was your Mom like as a child?
Doodlebug: You were Beautiful. And a good kid. <--- major points!
Shaggy: A really, really BAD child. Rebellious. You drove your parents nuts, I'm sure.

Hmmm.

6. How old is your Mom?
Doodlebug: You're 37! <--- he's WRONG
Shaggy: You're 34, right? Or is it 33? <--- also wrong but in a much better direction
(I'm actually 36 but I joke so often about being a different age, my poor kids have No Clue any longer)

7. How tall is your Mom?
Doodlebug: You're 4'11"
Shaggy: 5'5"
(Okay... I'm a bit concerned about their ability to judge heights. I'm 5'2")

8. What's her favorite thing to do?
Doodlebug: Work, cook, and take naps
Shaggy: Write!
(Take NAPS? Okay, yes, I do love me a good nap every now and then... like when I've stayed up until 3am the previous night. But seriously? My favorite thing to do?)

9. What does your Mom do when you're not around?
Doodlebug: Work, take naps, and watch TV <--- AGAIN with the naps???
Shaggy: Write and have sex <--- I DIED laughing when he said this one.
(On the other hand, I can now safely assume I am NOT loud enough for the entire house to hear.)

10. If your Mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
Doodlebug: Writing books
Shaggy: Writing a book better than Harry Potter <--- no pressure there, at all

11. What is your Mom really good at?
Doodlebug: Your cooking is the BEST! You should have your own show on that food channel.
Shaggy: Mothering. Oh, and writing. Though I think my imagination is better than yours.
(Okay, can I just PREEN for a moment? My 17 y.o. son just told me I'm really good at MOTHERING. Woo hooo!!!)

12. What is your Mom NOT very good at?
Doodlebug: Being quiet when you sleep <--- so says the child who snores like a freight train
Shaggy: Waking up in a good mood. I think you genetically passed that on to me, too. It's your fault.

13. What does your Mom do for her job?
Doodlebug: You make surveys.
Shaggy: You do surveys and you make sure everyone is happy. You have a really HARD job.

14. What's your Mom's favorite food?
Doodlebug: Pumpkin bread from Starbucks!
Shaggy: Chicken Marsala from Palotta's.

15. What makes you proud of your Mom?
Doodlebug: That you're beautiful. <--- he's SUCH a sweet, sweet suck-up child
Shaggy: That you're a good mother and you love me. And I'll really be proud when you FINISH a book!

16. If your Mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Doodlebug: George Jetson's wife, because she works a lot, like you. <--- I'm confused... George Jetson's wife WORKED? Is he watching a different cartoon than the one with which I'm familiar?
Shaggy: Marvin Martian, because he's funny and he's always threatening to do things to people.
(Now you know my secret to success... threats, that make people laugh.)

17. What do you and your Mom like to do together?
Doodlebug: Play games.
Shaggy: Talk about books, writing, life, and What-Ifs. Though I still say my imagination is better than yours. Like this book you're writing on... if it were mine I'd... <--- edited because he then went on a 30 minute diatribe about what he'd do differently.

18. How are your and your Mom the same?
Doodlebug: We have the same eyes! Of course, mine are prettier than yours. You say so.
Shaggy: Imagination, intelligence; we never wake up in a good mood. Oh, and we always go to sleep late.
(When asked about his sudden change of heart, that our imagination is the same... he said, "I'm being nice." Regarding his intelligence being the same as mine --- "Well, I'm more up to date so it equals out.")

19. How are you and your Mom different?
Doodlebug: The size. I'm shorter than you. Well, just a little shorter. Next year I'll be taller than you.
Shaggy: I can do Math and I'm better at History and Politics. I'm more logical than you are. You see things the BENT way... you know, the out-of-the-box way?
(I'm BENT? I think that was a compliment!)

20. How do you know your Mom loves you?
Doodlebug: You tell me!
Shaggy: Because you're asking me these questions right now. Because you tell me. Oh, and because I'm still here and alive!
(Okay, yes... I MAY have at some point(s) told my child I now understand why animals eat their young.)

21. Where is your Mom's favorite place to go?
Doodlebug: Bath & Body Works. I think you live there some times. .... but you smell real nice!
Shaggy: Scotland, Barnes & Noble, and Starbucks.

22. What is your Mom's least favorite place to go?
Doodlebug: I don't know... on a speed boat? <--- this said because the last time I was on a boat, I got SOAKED by a giant wave. While it was 50 degrees out. And windy. I was not happy.
Shaggy: Heh.. I know this one. Umm, the mall! Places with crowds! I-45 or really any freeway. Ohhhh! And really high overpasses! You really FREAK out on those. I don't know how you function. <--- sweet boy

So, that's it. A little more about me via my spawnlings. Yippee. I have to say, this was one of my favorite MeMe's yet. I really liked having a reason to sit down and ask them a bunch of questions. About me. If you have a blog and you have kids... consider yourself Tagged!

I Have Been... Not Here

2009-03-12T11:45:00.004-05:00

I know, right? ... I know...

And while it's a lousy excuse for my non-blogging habits, I have to blame them on physicists. If they could figure out the whole M theory, maybe they could figure out time... and then maybe, just maybe they could give me a few extra hours every day.

Of course, I'd probably use them for sleeping...

So where have I been the past month, you might ask? Or perhaps you've given up on me and therefore don't bother asking. Either way I'm going to tell ya. *grin*

I have been (in no particular order):

* To Austin - for a Laser (sailboat) race. Watching Laser racing from a boat in the water near the racers... FUN! Until you look back at the video your husband shot. It goes something like this:

Me: Ooooh, look, that's a great shot, you've got him really moving through the water.... wait... why are you shooting the boat seats?
Him: *exasperated sigh*
Me: Okay, here we go again. Oh! I remember this! This is when he was going around the buoy marker. That was a great turn. Here he goes.... WTF? Why are you shooting clouds?
Him: *groaning* It was the boat's fault.
Me: And we're back to the sailor. Yay! Oh, wait... nope! Seats again. And now sky again. And seats. Oooooh SAILOR!!! Nope, just kidding... WATER!
Him: Turn it off already.

It's sadly apparent that not only do we need to buy an ACTUAL video camera, but also? I need to do the shooting. (and then pray I do a better job because otherwise I'll be dining on crow for like the next YEAR)

And watching Laser racing from the rocky banks of a very low Lake Travis? Like watching GOLF on TV. So. Boring. The need to buy a boat of our own in order to guarantee we're out on the water is becoming more and more solid.

* Writing! - No. Not really. I have this *block* but it's not a writer's block. It's a dragonfly-has-gone-slightly-mental block. It's a do-I-really-want-to-scale-this-wall block. See, I have been getting regular visits from characters and they are SO COOL. I lurve them very, very much. But. BUT! Every time I sit back, pen ready, and ask, "So what's the story?" It's APOCALYPTIC. As in End. Of. The. World. As we know it. This is not anything new, unfortunately. I have been dreaming up apocalyptic plot ideas for years. --- I know, right? Ms. Optimism here has a MAJOR Doom & Gloom core, it seems. --- But seriously? End of the world? It's so.. sooo... depressing. And scary! And why is my brain wanting so badly to write about this stuff?! I'm trying to find a way to STOP fighting it, to let it flood in and run with the tide. And then also keep myself from going out and buying up a METRIC HORDE of survival supplies in response.

* Cancelling credit cards --- Oh yes, indeedy. We're finally going almost completely debt-free! But, umm, have you ever actually tried to CANCEL a credit card? I can only do like one a week. Those people!!! I got into an ARGUMENT this morning while trying to cancel one of my cards (it rhymes with Shitty). Really. They, of course, want to know WHY you are cancelling your cards. Ummm, because I SAID SO? Because you're a bail-out babe and I'm sorry... I just don't want a card from a company whose stocks are now mostly goverment owned? Or how about because I am Debt-Free and don't need any help getting back into debt? The guy ARGUED with me and I finally got angry and said, "Well, if you'd stopped arguing like, I don't know, TWENTY MINUTES ago... I might have changed my mind but Now? I want to cancel my card because I don't like YOU." He finally did what I asked. Twenty! Minutes! I'm so exhausted now.

* Dying of Consumption -- Truly. Mr. Clean came home with something Very Sinister but when I asked if he was sick, he said, "Nope... just a really bad headache." And then he got all romanticky with me. The next day, he was ILL. I sighed and bolted down as many vitamins as I could stand (glow-in-the-dark pee! Yay!). It didn't work. I got the nasty on a Thursday night. Tickle in my throat.
Friday = slight cough and general malaise. "I can beat this!" <--- I repeated as I tra-la-la'd throughout the day.
Saturday = I can't breathe. I can't move. I am dying.
Sunday = Rinse & Repeat.
Monday = My nose is either either getting much much smaller or much bigger. I can't tell.
Tuesday = Explosive! Sneezing! I Can't! Breathe! (seriously, like for four-five hours straight... with me TRYING to bawl in between sneezes because they just wouldn't stop!)
Wednesday = All I can smell is BLEACH. I have ruined my nose. And I can't move because the bed trolls came in the middle of the THREE hours I managed to sleep and kicked me repeatedly in my ribs. From the inside too.
Thursday = The cough is back but I can't cough. I can't talk either. It all hurts. Mr. Clean laughs at my attempts to cough "effectively". They don't work. I sound like a cat trying to start up a hair-ball and then giving up mid-attempt. Also? I'm no longer smelling bleach but I'm convinced I STINK. All I can smell is dirty-laundry-sweaty-stink. And I think it's me. I shower 3 times.
Friday = Coughing! Yay! Except now I'm also packing for Austin. And still showering a LOT because... yes, I still stink. I don't care that Mr. Clean insists all he smells is yummy vanilla. I smell like a SEWER.
Today (What is it... Thursday now? Two Weeks!?) = STILL COUGHING. But I can smell again! (and honestly? I'll take the smell-all-right over not coughing any day)

So that's where I've been. My main goal this week: Buy things. Pretty pretty nail polish. Flip-flops. Shampoo & Conditioner (because I am almost out and will now have to use express shipping to get it here in time). A new pair of capris (or two) that don't fall off while I walk. Possibly a couple of shirts. Don't say I'm not trying to help the economy!

Also? Start writing about the end of the world. *sigh* I just don't understand why I can't embrace these plot ideas. Obviously, this is where my brain wants to take me. Maybe it'll be a thrill-ride? Like a roller-coaster? Like a fun! fun! roller-coaster that you want to get on over and over and over again? <---- lying to myself. It's going to give me nightmares and make me start planning a bomb shelter. Dammit. Apparently, this is where I have to go though.... so I'll try to "blast off" <---- hahahaha, SO. Not. Funny.

Hearts and Flowers and Lightning

2009-02-16T13:59:00.004-06:00

It was supposed to be a day of hearts and flowers and while I DID get flowers, it was mostly... a day of RAIN. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

FRIDAY, I took off half a day of work in order to make Doodlebug's requested Black Forest Cake. Four giant layers of cake interspersed with drunk cherries (only tipsy, since it was for an 11-year-old) and whipped cream. The secret ingredient, though, is double-strength black cherry jello -- you add just the boiling water and mix, then drizzle it onto each of the cake layers before adding either cherries or whipped cream. YUM!

Friday afternoon, we revealed Doodlebug's birthday gift. A quick digression...

Every year, we ask Doodlebug about his gift choices and this is the resulting conversation:

Me: What do you want for your birthday, kiddo?
DB: Mommmmmm! You KNOW what I want. It's what I ALWAYS want. I ask for it EVERY year!
Me: .... and what's that again?
DB: A DIRT BIKE, Mom. Geez.
Me: *crickets chirping* (as I see visions of hundred dollar bills bursting into flames, their miniscule ash floating off into space)

So when we told Doodlebug to please go feed the horse while we figured out how to reveal his gift, imagine his surprise at opening the feed shed doors and finding... A DIRT BIKE.

Lordy Mercy. We finally managed to silence the child. We rendered him completely speechless. It was the LOVELIEST two minutes EVER! It was cool.

So after spending an hour watching him zoom past one direction and then back the other direction, we pulled him off the dirt bike and headed out to eat dinner with some family and play arcade games all night. We didn't get home until almost 11pm.

And then the adults (BabySis was staying over) partied it up a bit, because, see... C-Boy couldn't make the arcade games and what-not but the poker was ON. And also? I could only find a giant box of jello for the cake so I had a HUGE amount of double-strength leftover. As I was putting it in the fridge that afternoon, I noticed I still had half a bottle of tequila, nicely chilled. And then I thought: JELLO SHOTS! Except I didn't have any little medicine cups. So... I simply upended that bottle into the bowl and figured we'd think of something later.

It was poker night with a pass-along bowl and a spoon. And a little more tequila found it's way into that jello than I'd thought (though you couldn't TASTE a thing). Ohhh boy.

Fast forward to Valentine's Day.

We had to get up at EIGHT AM, in order to grab a quick load of hay and then head out on a long drive down to Clear Lake -- Shaggy was having a Laser race (single-person boats) and I hadn't made it to one yet because of work.

We got there a little late.

Once arrived, we walked down to the very, very, very end of what USED to be a road (now a mess of mud, sand, construction, and destruction not yet cleaned up --- Hurricane Ike killed this yacht club) and looked Wayyyyyyy out over the water.

Me: Are those sails out there?
Mr. Clean: Yep, I believe so.
Me: And this is supposed to be entertaining? I can't even see which is his boat!
Mr. Clean: Well, your Dad usually has binoculars.
Me: Except he's out on a boat, out there, with the binoculars.
Mr. Clean: Yep.
Me: Wooooo we're having FUN now!
Mr. Clean: You need more coffee.

After half an hour or so of standing out there, straining my eyes --- because maybe if I squinted hard enough, it would all suddenly come into focus --- my Dad called to say they (those on the power boat) were coming back into the marina to pick us up. Yay.

We climbed onto the boat and headed out deep, deep into the bay. Once we arrived out into the middle of the goings-on, we realized that a LOT of people (parents, coaches, and race committee) were all out on little power boats and dinghys, like you'd see in a Navy Seals movie. It looked like mass chaos on water.

Me: It's starting to become clear to me...
Mr. Clean: What is?
Me: The real expense of sailing is not Shaggy's boat and sails and riggings... or all the traveling around... it's the fact that we're going to have to get binoculars and another BOAT in order to see him race.
Mr. Clean: *crickets chirping*
Me: You didn't think about that part, did you?
Mr. Clean: The last race was right up next to the other yacht club; we just had to stand out on the pier and watch.
Me: With binoculars.
Mr. Clean: *crickets chirping*

As we were sitting out there waiting for the 2nd race to end, the wind DIED. Completely. Then, the sky grew a tiny bit darker and some big, fat raindrops hit me on my head. I looked out over the water behind us and HOLY COW, there was lightning. The race committee sounded their air horns and hoisted flags to call the race and send the racers into shore.

I wish I'd had the forsight to video the ensuing line of boats headed in - because, umm, how exactly DO you sail into shore when there is NO WIND? Apparently, you stand up on the boat, one foot on either side of the tiny, tiny cockpit and rock back and forth, left-to-right, left-to-right... which, essentially, paddles you in. Quite a bit more quickly than you'd imagine! It was like a little parade of dancing sailors, complete with lightning rods for masts. Lovely experience.

It was pouring before everyone managed to motor back to shore, a few of the boats hauling some of the slower sailors who weren't able to get their rockin' paddle going.

Did I mention I hadn't worn a rain coat??

Once ashore, we ran over to the beach area and helped Shaggy get his Laser onto a dingy cart, and then pulled it over to the giant expanse of grass in front of the clubhouse (which now looked like a mass congregation of wet rats (teenagers) and their boats). Shaggy removed all of his rigging and then pulled the mast out and laid it across the boat, while the adults were trying to figure out --- was this it for the day?

The race committee came out of the clubhouse and stated the weather radar showed we were only in the tip of a storm and it was passing momentarily. So the racing was back on. Everyone had to re-rig and get right back out there.

*sigh*

The sailors had the same sentiment. They looked to the sky, looked at each other, and then grumbled about inexperienced race committees (this one was fairly new). Their masts re-settled, they rolled their boats one-by-one back to the beach and got back into the water.

It was that moment I realized... there is such a thing as a SAIL MOM. And I was not one of them. I did not know!!! Shaggy NEVER mentioned I was expected to be hauling around a bag of vitamin water and power bars! One of the other parents said, "Oh yeah... it's a mess out there. Usually, we start passing out water and power bars in between races. They just sail up next to the boat and we toss things their way. Otherwise, they're just wiped out."

Well, yes, I DID know it was extremely hard work. I did NOT know there was a system and a charter of rules that SAIL MOMS or SAIL DADS followed. Sweet Bleeding Jalepeno.

We loaded back up onto the boat we were tagging along with (two other sets of parents)... now BAREfoot because our shoes had become clogged with mud from earlier. As we headed BACK out into the water... it started to rain again.

Sitting out in the race area - AGAIN - while waiting for the race to start, it was like being circled by sharks. Every now and then, a kid would sail up, grab hold of the side rail, and then get a quick bottle of water and power bar. After a few minutes of chit-chat, they'd head back out to circle the start again. FYI... it's STILL raining.

Here's Shaggy (on the left, in red, with the 4.7 sail):

It's just a short little clip. Because about a minute after this, that damn race committee hoisted the "abandon race" flags AGAIN. And the lightning started. AGAIN. And my heart raced as I watched all the giant lightning rods across the water. AGAIN.

Oh, and the temperature dropped about FIFTY degrees in five minutes. My feet turned blue.

I did have the forsight to grab video of the resulting line of dancing sailors heading back to shore this time but it started raining so hard, I couldn't keep the camera out. Sorry. What you really missed, though, was the sound we heard when the race was called the second time. At first, it could have been mistaken for thunder. In reality, it was the sound of 30 teenagers doing a well-timed teenagery groan of frustrated angst. Hilarious!!

My Valentine's evening? Spent...

** drying out and warming up in front of a fire for a little while in the clubhouse, while waiting for Shaggy to finish de-rigging his boat and getting everything put up.

** bemoaning the fact that my hair now looked like a giant bozo the clown do from the humidity and rain.

** thanking GOD I'd brought along a headband and scrunchy to hide the clown hair with.

** making sure Shaggy was showered, changed, and settled in (they were having a dinner/dance that evening).

** going out with my Dad & Stepmom to find a place to eat that wasn't packed to the gills with romancing couples.

** after FIRST buying a whole new outfit for Doodlebug - who'd assisted the kids in getting their boats in and out of the water, TWICE, and therefore was soaked to the bone.

And actually? It was a LOVELY evening. We got coffee on the way home, arrived at just past 9pm, and then curled up on the couch and watched Horton Hears A Who. And then passed out from exhaustion.

We go to Austin the first weekend of March. Hopefully, I can capture a little MORE video of some actual racing.

How was YOUR Valentine's Day?

A Little Mid-Week Attempt

2009-02-10T11:11:00.002-06:00

This poor blog just doesn't get updated like it used to. Don't feel bad, little blog, there are a LOT of things not getting the attention they deserve just now. Things like:

** My nails, which are currently pretty-pretty painted in the CENTER but bare around the edges. Real edgy look, this. Not at all attractive.

** My house, which looks like a tornado blew through it... a FEW times.

** My closet. Oh dear lord, my closet is a disaster area.

** My roses, which desperately need cutting back for Spring, because they are growing willy-nilly all over the place, even though it is supposed to be WINTER and they are NOT supposed to be sprouting new leaves!

** My email inbox, which is full of notices from Facebook and MySpace... that I am consciously-subconsciously IGNORING for the moment. And then feeling badly for it.

** My friends! I feel like I'm wallowing in Cave Days, except I'm not. I'm just trying to keep my head above water here.

Work is taking over my life. GAH!

But not this Friday, oh no sirree. This Friday, I had to take half a day off because when I asked Doodlebug what kind of cake he wanted for his birthday, he said, "Black Forest, Mom. I really really really want a Black Forest cake."

And then my head exploded. Because the Black Forest cake? It takes HOURS to create. But that's the deal - the kiddos always get a home-baked cake tailored exactly to their specifications. So a Black Forest cake it is. And a half day off work, too. (which, really? I'm not going to complain about because I could kinda sorta definitely use the break)

After we have cake for dinner on Friday night, we're going to head out for some laser tag and arcade games, and maybe some bowling. And then Saturday morning, we're all getting up at the butt-crack of dawn so we can drive through downtown Houston in order to get to Clear Lake, where Shaggy has a sailing race.

That's right -- I'm going to spend Valentine's Day standing on the end of a pier with binoculars, going, "Is that one him? How about that one? Well, where the heck IS HE?"

It's all about the love, folks.

American Idol tonight, y'all. I might just post something about it --- if I can remember to note some thoughts down while I watch.

I DID see some of the Grammys, though!

** Whitney's gorgeous dress and her seemingly less-than-sober speech

** Robert Plant - It just amazes me that the man is still alive! Not that he's OLD or anything, but that he SURVIVED the sex & drugs era relatively intact. It would have been NICE had he allowed Allison Krause to, I don't know, TALK at the mic, though..

** The Jonas Brothers - who proved that they can make even an almost 11-year-old BOY Squee... right up until one of them forgot part of a line. IN FRONT of the songwriter!

Doodlebug: Did he just forget part of the song?
Me: Yes, I think he maybe did.
Doodlebug: When is Kenny Chesney coming on? I like Kenny Chesney. He knows all the words.

And that's about all I remember now, because at some point I turned the channel. To watch something else... a movie? Or maybe I fell asleep. Not sure now; it's all a blur.

25 Things

2009-02-04T12:53:00.003-06:00

There's a 25 Things MeMe (meme? Meme?) going around on Facebook and since I sort-of loathe all things Facebook (and MySpace, these days) I'm going to do it here.

Digression -- Yes! I Do realize that obvously I don't loathe them enough to not be on them. I didn't loathe them when I signed up. Well I did loathe The Facebook but I was coerced into that one (Cuz Denise!). Anyhow. I'm just too lazy to take it all down now. And... And fine, what if someone out there is looking for me and thinks, "Oh! I'll try Facebook" -- only they look the day AFTER I take it all down and then can't ever find me? I don't want to be responsible for that.

So, twenty-five things. This was HARD y'all! Because blogging is pretty much chock-full-o-self-interest-naval-gazing-and-belly-lint-picking... so finding twenty-five things you might not already know? Torturous.

1) My current ring tone on my cell is the dirty, grungy beginning notes of Led Zeppelin's Whole Lotta Love. It soothes the bad girl inside me. And I find the sound sexy. Which makes it yummy. Because, apparently, I live with sex on the brain.

2) On Christmas Day, I dropped my weeks-old cell phone into an open glass of iced sweet tea while we were driving to my Mom's. Though I saved it (mostly, the screen still shows water spots and the texting keyboard crunches when I type) I blamed the whole thing on Mr. Clean having an open beverage in the car and told him that's why I NEVER drive with open drink containers. I LIED. I drive around with open beverages all the time. And I drop my phone in the car all the time. It just happened that THAT time, the stars aligned and universes converged and the phone dunked into the drink.

3) I am hereby admitting I have a chap stick PROBLEM. I am addicted to C.O. Bigelow's SPF 15 Menth Lip Balm Stick. It's freakin' $7.50 a tube (!!) but I can't stop. It's ruined me for all other chap sticks. I keep one in my office, one in my purse, one in my living room, and I have two standing by in the bedroom for when one of the others runs out. That means I have $37.50 in chap stick at the moment. ---- that does NOT include the two tubes of C.O. Bigelow Mentha Lip Shine I also have (one in office, one in living room) or the two other chap sticks I bought while grocery shopping because I couldn't find mine and couldn't get through a shopping afternoon without SOMETHING.

4) Apparently, I have a weird obsession with my MOUTH because while I was looking through the house - counting all the damn chap stick - I came across a small jar of Nipple Nibblers in Mandarin Orange. I'd forgotten about that; I use it every night before bed. I got it at a Passion Party my sister held at my house a few years back. I have never ONCE used it on my nipples.

p.s. It's Super Yummy and TINGLY on your lips and Oh! My! does it make them soft.

5) Yesterday, I blamed my MONTHS-long lack of writing on the fact that everyone in this house have used up my sticky notes and without stickies... I simply CANNOT tap into my creative well. I told Mr. Clean (in a work email) that I was being psychologically maimed by their absence. He informed me that I was taking Drama to a whole new level and then brought home two new packages. I came up with FOUR new plot ideas before he'd changed out of his work clothes.

6) ... at which point, he proclaimed I was BATSHIT CRAZY. I asked him, how - after almost 18 years of marriage - was he JUST figuring that out?

7) I have another addiction I have to admit to... Lotion. There are... what do you call them? Large tubes? We'll go with that. There is one large tube in my office, one in my living room, one by the bed, and one waiting in the wings. Oh, and one in my purse. They are all vanilla scented (Bath & Body Works Warm Vanilla Sugar and Vanilla Bean Noel). Essentially, I float through life smelling like vanilla cookies with mint frosting. I am told this is NOT a bad thing.

8) I watched a whopping THIRTY-TWO minutes of the Super Bowl. I spent fifteen of those minutes criticizing the manner in which one of the Arizona running backs was catching the ball -- i.e. he was running LEFT and catching LEFT and therefore always landed twisty and facing AWAY from the end zone, right into one of the opposing team, who consistently drove him into the ground. It was an INEFFICIENT use of space. If he'd caught the ball to the RIGHT on both of those passes, he'd have had a clean shot to the end zone in HALF the amount of time. I don't really CARE either way... I'm just sayin'. It doesn't make sense.

9) I like to invent words and phrases - usually to replace my sailor's mouth (because I'm supposed to be this virtuous font of example for my children) but also just for fun. Some of my favorites are: Sweet Bleeding Jalepeno, Tragma (traj-ma) - as in tragic-drama, Fruitbat, and Shoffee (shopping with a coffee reward after).

Last night, while watching American Idol, I started to make a snide comment about Bikini Girl but since Doodlebug was right there with me, I didn't finish it (because it was NOT nice). He did, though.

Me: Ooooh that girl comes across as SUCH a ....
Him: A psychochondriac?

10) I LOVE that someone else in this family makes up words besides me.

11) Yes, it's because it makes me feel a little less alone in my crazy.

12) Doodlebug will turn ELEVEN years old in less than two weeks. He still believes in Santa. I have No Clue how it's managed to stick this long, except that he IS a child of my loins, and therefore inherited my penchant for not believing a thing unless it's proven unequivocally otherwise. Of course one would think we'd therefore need to prove Santa's existence. Not so, schmo-mo! Once Doodlebug believes something, you have to prove that it DOESN'T exist. I think I'll let him keep on keepin' on with this one.

13) I can't WAIT to see the new Friday the 13th movie. The original was always my favorite horror flick. Also? I first watched it when I was 13 years old.

14) After watching it, I became CONVINCED (see #12) if I ever made out with a boy in a dark cabin, I would DIE. To this day, I probably would NOT make out in a dark cabin (and certainly NOT after I go watch the re-make).

15) Every year I get older I find I am getting more girly and developing a serious affinity for the color Pink. It is WEIRD. It is SO weird, my sisters have NOTICED and they tease me about it. At this rate, I figure I'm going to be one of those little old ladies with pink hair who twitters and swoons any time a little old man looks my way.

16) I picked the name 'dragonfly' for this blog because any time I go outside, dragonflies flock and follow me everywhere I go. It's obvious enough that people notice. It's weird but in a cool way.

17) I have a tattoo of a thistle and a dragonfly on my ankle. I think I'd like to get another on the back of my shoulder but I can't decide what I want. Because I am indecisive. It took ten YEARS to figure out the one on my ankle. At this rate, I'll be in my forties before I get a second one.

18) In this day and age of Sugar-Free EVERYTHING, I can't... for the LIFE of me... figure out why Starbucks has YET to create Sugar-Free Frappuccinos (either in the bottle or the frozen ones at the shop). They would make a killing!! And then maybe they wouldn't have to close a bunch of locations. Both Stevia Root (Truvia, at the stores now) and Agave Nectar taste SO close to sugar, you won't even notice its absence. It makes me wonder just who's running the show around there...

19) I have not blogged so much lately because I am convinced my blog is now BORING, which irritates me, which makes me want to re-invent it, which seems like re-inventing the wheel, which flips my indecisiveness switch, which throws me straight into a fit of procrastination.

20) I watch a lot of TV. But only because Mr. Clean refuses to get TIVO. He claims we would need a whole new dish, etc., etc.. It's a GIANT clusterpuck because instead of having satellite in our living room and bedroom, the 2nd receiver is in HIS PARENTS' living room, which is next door. Essentially, they are FILCHING satellite from us and therefore I cannot get TIVO. This drives me CRAZY because, dude.... I. Want. The. TIVO. (Okay yes, it saves them money and they let us live with them the first year we were married and blah, blah, blah... I'm a freakin' saint. Who wants the damn TIVO.)

21) After watching the first episode of Trust Me, I decided that I should have gone into advertising. The mix of Crazy Stress and Creativity is SO right up my alley. Throughout the show, I like to point to an empty cubicle and announce, "There's my desk! Do you see it? Do you?" I'm now seriously considering going back to school.

Quick Digression: Dudes!! You MUST click on the Video > Sneak Peeks link on the left-hand side. Don't bother watching the video (or do, if that's what flips up your skirt). But on that page, in the upper-right-hand corner is a little button that says: "Boss Coming? DRAMATIC PAUSE". Click. It. Hilarious!

22) My favorite classes in High School were Marketing and English. I feel a bit stupid for finally figuring this out.

23) Okay, serious consideration OVER. I have NO IDEA where I'd find the time to go back to school. I mean, seriously? Unless someone out there knows how to stretch 24 hours into 30. Then I'd do it.

24) So WHAT if Michael Phelps took a hit off a bong?! Did anyone SEE how hard he worked to get to the Olympics - TWICE and then cleaned up while there? I'd be smoking a little hooch in my down-time too!!

25) I had fully planned on counting the number of times I applied chap stick to my lips and lotion to my hands while writing this post (which I did on paper first, and it took me two days). I lost count. It was that many times. It's almost OCD. ALMOST.

I'm tagging EVERYONE who reads this. Seriously! Go get a blog if you don't already have one. I want to read your stuff too dammit. :)

A Taste of Where I've Been...

2009-01-30T11:16:00.004-06:00

I know, I know... I'm like the Master of the Disappearing Blog Act these days! So you know where I've been, these are random things overheard this past week:

Shaggy: I'm drowning in my own saliva. I think maybe I have pneumonia and it's crawling out my mouth or something. You know, like the tide of phlegm is rising?

Nurse @ Doctor's office: You're back AGAIN? Wow. You don't call and you don't write for like Two YEARS and now we can't get rid of you?

Doodlebug: Oh cool. I have Fifth Disease and I never even got the other four. I have Fifth FIRST!

Doodlebug: Does it REALLY look like you slapped my cheeks? Like you beat me or something? Should I hide my face so people don't think you abuse me?

Shaggy: Didn't you go to *cough*cough* University of Texas?
Doctor T: Yes, I did.
Shaggy: But you're wearing Maroon scrubs. Doesn't that bother you? Like sacrilege or something?
Doctor T: I'm representing.
Shaggy: Cool. A&M kicks UT's butts all the time, you know that right?
Doctor T: Looks like the Flu is doing it to you now. Payback?

Shaggy: I can feel my trachea swelling shut. I'm probably going to die and the last thing you'll remember saying to me is, "Whatever, Shakespeare."

Doodlebug: The green gatorade is nasty. It makes me feel like I'm going to turn into the Hulk. Can I have the purple? It's a much calmer color.

Shaggy: My ears are arguing about my fever.
Shaggy: No. I AM doing it right. I think I know how to stick this thing in my ear.
Shaggy: OWWW! Okay, maybe you should do it.

Me: Did you just see something run across the living room floor in front of the TV?
Me: The cat is outside. Seriously, something just ran across the room. It wasn't big. Smaller than a cat, larger than a mouse.
Me: No, the fairies have NOT returned.
Me: No, I haven't had much sleep in the past few days.
Me: Okay, yes... perhaps I AM hallucinating.

My kitchen looks like a pharmaceutical explosion at the moment. I'm a little low on sleep (but catching up fast). And my kids are FINALLY back in school, where they belong. Thank the gods. Oh thank you thank you thank you gods. (and if you do this to me again during end-of-month report time? I will not be responsible for my actions)

It Is What It Is

2009-01-18T12:00:00.004-06:00

It's Day 3 of a 4-day weekend here (having taken off Friday and Monday is a work holiday). I started with a pile of books. They're now gone. Read. And translated into a sweeeet migraine headache at five o'clock this morning.

It wasn't a surprise; I knew it was coming. I just didn't expect it to announce its arrival in the middle of Good Sleep & Dream, heralded with a chorus of deafening canine barking (through open windows), which made it near impossible to locate my uber-ibuprofen before I was convinced I'd pass out from the pain --- that in itself NOT unwelcome at the time.

Reading books for me is like a 5-year old with Easter candy. It's all about rationing it out so you don't get sick. I can't ration. I gobble and stuff and leave chocolatey rings around my mouth. And then I pay for it.

The books were GOOD though (#5 - #7 of Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse series), so it all works out.

It's been a very QUIET weekend here. Shaggy headed out Friday morning for a sailing seminar and a race in Kemah this weekend and my Dad - having been left high & dry in the grandson/sail-buddy department - invited Doodlebug down for his FIRST sailing weekend, so he went along - all smiles - with his brother. It's a coveted invitation.

And as of this morning, it's considered by us as The Official Announcement - Daddy is now converting my other child to the Ways Of The Wind & Water. --- This due to having been informed (by Shaggy) that Doodlebug was taken SHOPPING for foul weather gear and new boat shoes. When my Dad starts outfitting my kids in boat gear, it's official. Doodlebug is now crew-in-training.

I find the whole thing Hilarious because it was not a few months back that my Dad informed me - picking his words very carefully - that he thought my youngest was a little on the spoiled side. (He is, and it's something we've been working on slowly but surely.)

It's not that I think my Dad is being hypocritical or anything like that. Oh no. It's tickling my funny bone because if my Dad took the wee one on a shopping spree... it means the wee one has been working his little tail off on that boat. And that's good for him. He needs it. But I can only imagine Doodlebug's facial expressions right now - probably a mixture of adoration and annoyance/frustration as he scrubs the deck and polishes the winches - outfitted, of course, in his new boat gear.

When Shaggy called to check in, he was putting on a mighty Shakespearean performance. It seems that Day 1 of his sailing seminar located muscles he didn't know he had and pushed his fitness level into realms never before accessed. He's a fit boy. He runs, lifts weights, etc. But apparently not enough or not targeting the right body parts. He even suggested that we drive down to Kemah to pick them up, because he's not sure he can drive back tomorrow... being in such excruciating pain and all. I'm wondering how Day 2 is working out for him. *laughing*

The really cool thing about the seminar, though, is that one of the instructors was a silver medalist as the Beijing Olympic games and the other is a retired coach from the Naval Academy (where Shaggy intends to go to college). I told him he'd better "Sailor Up". His reply? "Goodbye, Mom." Heh.

So.

I have had all weekend to write but I am not WRITING and the reasoning is a big fat mystery. I guess the people in my head are on vacation also. I DO have a girl (Holly), sporting a crazy-short-spikey-all-over-and-streaked-with-pink hairdo flitting about in my head but she's not quite talking to me yet. I'm intrigued. And feeling slightly mentally ill --- a good sign, all in all. But still, no writing. It's annoying because as much as I'd like to do so... I can't force it. Patience is Not happy with this hundred-year-old tortoise crawling method of discovery.

I'm not really either but It is What It Is. <---- that's my new saying of the year. It annoys me to say it, sometimes, which makes me think it's the RIGHT saying of the year.

While I'm not writing and not working, I began to think of things to do instead because I am bored. This is dangerous -- according to Mr. Clean. Can't wait to see what he thinks when he hears I talked BabySis into going gambling with me at the end of the month. I'm excited!! I haven't been gambling in AGES. Like, really, YEARS and YEARS. Well, excluding the few quarters I stuck in a slot machine while on the cruise last summer... (does that even really count? I didn't get a free drink or ANYTHING while sliding those quarters in so I don't think it counts AT ALL.)

Maybe I'll find character fodder while I'm in the casino. It'll be a working weekend!

Well that's all I've got today. Mr. Clean is watching an old war movie (Father Goose) and I can hear the wind chimes outside so I'm thinking a nice walk in the cool-ish air would be nice. Y'all have a great remainder of the weekend!!

The Shhhh It's A Secret List

2009-01-10T13:05:00.004-06:00

I was reading a blog post the other day about Favorites Lists and how all those favorites that you put down for the world to see aren't indicative of the Real You. It's the favorites you keep secreted under your bed with the dust bunnies that really say something about who you are.

You know what I'm talking about, right? All those things you secretly REALLY like but apologize for liking... those things that people scoff at in conversation and instead of piping up to say, "Hey, I like that!" you keep silent.

Supposedly this phenomena is called a Shadow List. I think I prefer to call it a Shhhh It's A Secret List. And here's mine:

Disclaimer: You are instructed to FORGET these facts as soon as you read them, unless you share YOUR Shhhh It's A Secret List also!

1. I sometimes eat Pop Secret Movie Theatre Butter popcorn, with a handful of M&M's thrown in to get melty soft, for LUNCH. It's a taste sensation for the lazy can't-get-up-from-my-desk-for-a-real-lunch crowd. Note: If you have this as a late-night snack with coffee and then go to bed? Wonky dreams, people. WONKY.

2. I'm obsessed with the show Friday Night Lights. I watch episodes online via Netflix while I work... pretty much every day. And while Taylor Kitsch has one of the hottest bods, ever, it's his mouth... the lips... that do it for me.

3. I sometimes serve Hamburger Helper to my family for dinner - though I dress it up with all manner of fresh organic veggies and spices, to mask the fact that's it processed food from a box.

4. Any time the movie Valley Girl comes on TV, I have to watch it... even if it doesn't start until 3:00 AM. Have. To. The same goes for Sixteen Candles. And umm, maybe even The Goonies.

5. I secretly LOVE American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance. Love! Them! I have never missed an episode. I had a long conversation with Mr. Clean about how The Superstars of Dance was a crappy imitation of SYTYCD. (it was!) Around the water cooler, though? I won't in a million years admit that I love either show.

6. I eat my cereal dry and sometimes straight from the box, even if it's flakes with nuts and berries. I hate hate hate milk but I love me some Honey Nut Cheerios.

7. Some of my favorite tops were bought at the devil's own playground - Wal-Mart. Enough said.

8. I downloaded John Waite's "Ain't Missing You" and Corey Hart's "Sunglasses at Night" from iTunes and I listen to them a LOT. Also? When I'm in one of those happy-happy-dance-around-the-house moods? It's Bananarama's "Venus" that is playing in my head. I also like Def Leppard.

9. I play online Bingo when I can't sleep. And I whisper "BINGO!" when I win. (Whispering because usually this is at 3 or 4 in the morning. If I yelled it, like I'd sometimes like to? Mr. Clean would come vaulting out of the bedroom, brandishing some form of weapon.)

10. I have a secret, secret crush on Shepard Smith from FOX News. I actually threw a complete and total meltdown hissy fit when I found out he was speaking at Texas A&M, just down the road from where Mr. Clean's and my office is, and Mr. Clean refused to go get his autograph for me (on the basis that he'd have to wait in a long line).

11. I watch All My Children... religiously... while telling everyone at work (who ASSUME I do nothing but watch soaps all day) that I don't even know the names of soap operas. It's an illness, folks. I've been watching this since I was like... umm, 12 or 13 years old.

12. I don't understand the whole have-to-own-fifty-million purses thing. I. Don't. Get It. I have ONE purse... it's black leather, it's nice, and I got it on sale (75% off!). When it no longer functions, I will retire it and then buy another.

13. If someone asks me if red is my natural hair color, I LIE and say, "Yes." And they believe me. I do admit to getting it touched up to cover the grey (which started in my early twenties). Red is not my natural hair color. My natural color is described by my stylist as "Street Dog Blond"... it's kind of an ashy mousy blonde with freaky sable-like strands of strawberry blonde and light brown in it. (I've admitted this here before but the simple fact that I lie about it in public makes room for it on this list)

Okay, that's all I can handle sharing at this time. Now it's YOUR TURN!! Don't leave me hanging, folks...

The New Year

2009-01-04T11:50:00.003-06:00

Okay, yeah... as Cuz Denise so thoughtfully left a comment... I really need to get back to blogging. Though honestly? I've been laying low so to save you folks from The Whine. This is what happens when I miss Thanksgiving in Georgia, where we usually go -- the rest of the year just sort-of meanders aimlessly down the path to nowhere and I have NO CLUE where I'm at.

Don't get me wrong! Christmas was great! (though I was fighting The Lung Crud for all of it)

I'm just a little lost in my own world at the moment. Okay, maybe a LOT lost. I went for a walk yesterday and just as I was heading home, Mr. Clean called my cell, squawking, "Just where in the heck are you?"

"Umm, WALKING? Like I told you I would be when I left. What's the deal?"

"Are you EVER coming home," he asked.

Apparently, the deal was that I'd been out walking for almost 3 hours. I swear I thought I'd just been gone one, tops. I have no recollection of the walking itself, though I know it was a lot of uphill. My arse tells me so every time I get up or sit down... or really just walk in general.

New Year's went by with barely a whisper. I can't believe it's 2009 already. We had a very quiet night with friends and poker and booze and fire. --- I SWEAR I am not as redneck as that sounds. I'm not redneck AT ALL. Really.

Mr. Clean missed the New Year's kiss. Who wanders off to take out their contacts ONE MINUTE before midnight?? My husband, that's who. Doodlebug got the first kiss and C-Boy got the second. I'm not sure what that says about kicking off the new year. I'm not going to look too closely at it.

Then, after being badgered about resolutions (C-Boy), because I'd initially resolved NOT to make any... I finally settled for ONE: Finish something written this year. --- Of course now that I made the darn resolution, I feel PRESSURE, which I hate. 2009 - The Year For Neurosis!

I have slowly started writing in my journals again, here lately, and that's a good sign. After about September, I got so strung out and tied up with work, the writing had to be stuffed down inside for temporary hibernation. All the people in my head aren't quite awake yet but they're getting there... mostly still in the stretch-yawn-grumble-grumble-can-I-get-one-more-hour-of-sleep? stage.

OMG!! I do have ONE thing about the writing to mention... C-Boy and I went to see Twilight the other day (Fabulous! Fun! Can't wait for the 2nd one!) and while sitting there watching the previews, this one comes on... and I freeze. Then I start elbowing C-Boy, my mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. He asks, "Are you okay?!"

"Noooooooooo," I tell him, trying to keep my voice from hitting an operatic soprano that will shatter glass.

"What is WRONG with you?"

I point at the screen and whisper, "That's. My. Fucking. Plot!"

And it was. Not totally, but close enough that the last book I was working on... is TOAST. Watching Twilight made up for the disappointment (and raging anger) but seriously? SERIOUSLY? I swear.

Somehow I feel like it's karma. Or maybe a sign that I STILL haven't hit the genre I need to be hitting. I keep coming back to the first thing I worked on a few years back. And then I push it away. And then it comes back again. So that's what I'm starting with this year. That's what I'm going to finish.

But I'm still really, really peeved about that preview (though the movie itself looks like it will ROCK... which it will because, helloooo, MY PLOT).

Okay, I'm off to go be introverted and iPod laden on my front porch. All this introspection is a lead-up to writing. If only I can convince the rest of my family that this IS The Process. They keep asking if I'm okay. Yes! I'm fine! I'm pulling inward and THINKING! (because I finally have 2 seconds to myself)

They don't believe me. They think I'm dying or leaving or unhappy or God Knows What. I don't know which is more annoying --- that they won't trust that I'm fine when I say I'm fine or that it's been SO long since I've written, they've forgotten The Process. Sad, that.

I hope you all had a lovely time ringing in the New Year, and that it's a good year for you!! I'll be around more, I think. Introspection leads to blogging every time. LOL

The Funk Punked Me!

2008-12-22T09:34:00.006-06:00

Well it turns out my little funk was a precursor to a full-blown NyQuil ad, plus PMS. Heh. We're having fun NOW, folks!

Saturday, I yanked myself out of bed and schlepped my way across country... to get my hair done. There was no choice in the matter because I knew if I cancelled my appointment on the guise of being "sick", Ohhh Lordy... I'd end up in a snit for weeks. Plus! Pictures! That afternoon!

Pictures that didn't happen.

It seems that while I was out getting my hair prettified, Shaggy was embarking on his first Christmas Shopping Trip. Alone. The later story was full of Shakespearean excitment because not only did he drive to the nearest mall (read: Haven for Christmas Crazy of NO Comparison), he then had to drive AROUND the place for an HOUR while looking for a parking spot. And it was like being one of those tin ducks in a shooting gallery, by goodness!

He finally found a space, TWO MILES away, and had to WALK to the mall. Whereby he was almost killed THREE times by batshit crazy drivers who don't know what to do with pedestrians in pedestrian crossings... at RED LIGHTS.

Once he got into the mall, he thought FOR SURE there must have been some sort of terrorist bomb threat, because SERIOUSLY? People do not act like that NORMALLY.

All this to buy his first paid-for-with-his-own-hard-earned-money presents. And then he got lost coming home... Poor kiddo.

Hence, no pictures because he had to turn right back around and go to work.

And as I am sitting here now, blogging, while sniffling and sneezing and coughing and wheezing... I should be taking a shower because we are supposed to be doing pictures in like AN HOUR. I'd roll my eyes but I think my head might have something else to say about that move.

Yesterday, however, I managed to FINISH my Christmas shopping. Well, except for a bottle of liquor for a gift basket because hey... did you know? They don't sell alcohol on SUNDAY! I guess I knew that but it didn't occur to me until I was standing outside the liquor store wondering Where's The Fruitbat?

I still have nothing wrapped.

But I did make FUDGE!! Woo hoo! And it all made it into pans, as opposed to... you know... ON ME. (Well except for a very large swath of chocolatey goodness which thought decorating one boob of the clean shirt I'd just put on would be nice... oh, and a few drops of boiling sugary milk that felt my exposed toes looked cold. Yay!)

Digression: While getting my hair done, I decided to have my toes painted too because, remember, the fairies came and stole the polish from my middle toes?

C, the resident nail person at the salon asked, "Do you trust me?" And I faltered... because, well... No. Any time someone asks me that, I immediately fling up Big Fat Steel-Cased Non-Trusting Walls. I don't know why.

But C is persistent and snarky so she shoved me into the chair and said, "Close your damn eyes and let me do your toes, right?"

When I opened my eyes, she'd put a Christmas Party on my toes. Seriously. I'm in love with staring at them. It's like she turned my toenails into Dorothy's Ruby Red Slippers. *Sigh* (yes, I'm staring at them now)

Nothing says Happiness like pretty toes. Digression over.

So. Today, after I shower and pose for pictures and work for a little while, I think I might just make the cupcakes. Maybe. If I can figure out a way to BREATHE and, I don't know, STAND UP for longer than ten minutes without falling down like one of those fainting goats.

And I'm SURE there's something I've forgotten... but, you know, I umm... FORGOT. It'll come to me (a day late and a dollar short, but it'll come).

This is MOST LIKELY the last time I'll blog until after Christmas soooo, until then:

Hope you ALL have a Very Very Merry Christmas!!

Does UPS Overnight To Funk-ville?

2008-12-18T00:24:00.003-06:00

It’s 7 days until Christmas and I’m officially freaking out. I still have LISTS of stuff needing to be bought, wrapped, or baked. Good Lord. I don't even have wrapping paper. Or I do? But it might not be enough. And I have NO tape.

This coming weekend, in addition to getting my hair done (trust me, it's lonnnnng overdue) and then wrangling my family together for a last minute family picture, I have to bake Spitzbuben cookies, Pumpkin cupcakes, and make pans and pans of fudge. Let’s cross our fingers and hope the fudge makes it to the pans instead of slavered all over a nekkid crazy impersonation of me.

Mr. Clean is still present-less. This is SO unlike me!! It’s like I just woke up from a very long nap and Hello! It’s Christmas, dummy. I have no clue where my head has been. No. Clue.

And the stocking stuffers! Oh geez, oh pete… I just remembered that stuff.

And C-Boy’s gift!! Funny man, that one. All of his favorite things start with a B; it’s totally weird. So we’re building him a basket full of his favorite B’s. So far, I have one B, of like TEN. Luckily, they’re not going to be hard to find.

Y’all, I have NEVER been behind like this before. I’m the Planner, the List-Maker, and the Do-er. I’ve never been last minute or run-to-catch-up… and, honestly? I have NO idea how to deal with it all now except to suck it up and shoot some double espresso shots, then hope like hell my head doesn’t lift off for an impromptu trip to the moon! Heh.

I really do feel like December has whizzed on past me without notice. And while I'm mostly a happy camper, it's time to admit that I am rubber boot deep in some sucking swampy quicksand of a major FUNK. I'd love to say that I'm clueless as to how I got in this position, but I'm not.

Unfortunately, it falls into the "unbloggable" category, though.

Doesn't that suck? *nodding head* Oh yes, indeedy, it does. Because I'd just love to ramble on about it all... but I'm not gonna.

I do believe, however, that a pedicure could save the world at this point. Or at least fix the fact that my middle little toe - on BOTH feet - somehow lost all traces of their polish overnight. I don't know what's up with those sleep fairies but seriously? Enough is enough.

You know you live in Texas when...

2008-12-13T23:43:00.003-06:00

... one day it's snowing and the next it hits the mid 60's

... you go out at 1 a.m., light a HUGE bonfire in the middle of the pasture, drive the truck out there, and turn up the stereo as loud as it goes, and no one is around to care.

... after a full night of poker, tequila shots, and bonfire dancing - wherein you don't go to bed until 5 a.m. - you get up at 8 a.m. to pick up a load of hay.

... you then go up the hill to the next door neighbor's house to shoot skeet for the next four hours with 10 other people who have equal hangovers.

... the temperature plummets right back down to the 30's but the forecast is for 70's the rest of the week.

I'm not really all that wild but for a rare occasion (read: no kids around. Wooo hoooo!) Hope all of y'all's weekend was just as fun, though!

Snow Day

2008-12-11T11:30:00.005-06:00

Oh my God, y'all... I live DEEP in the heart of Texas and yesterday? IT SNOWED. Now I know some of you Yankees (*grin*) are like, "Yeah... what-EVAH... it snows here ALL the time." Well boo on you. I haven't seen a real, decent, stick to the ground for more than FIVE SECONDS snow in, Lordy, I don't know how long. Years!

And because I am silly and easily excitable, I ran outside to twirl in the little snowflakes and take pictures! And video!

Turns out... phone pictures SUCK. I now know why I wasn't at all concerned with having a picture phone all these years. Bah... what a waste. And the video? Too big to send to myself, apparently. Plus, it didn't even SHOW the snowflakes. Crap.

But BabySis!! Oh, lovely BabySis with her fancy-schmancy i-PHONE (booger) took some pics at work and then emailed them to me. Granted, they got a bit more of the powdery white stuff than we did, but not by much.

That's her car.

Course, now it's all gone and we'll be hitting 70 again in a couple of days. Welcome to Texas. But for a moment, it was sweet. Except for the part where my horse went apeshit -- Apparently? She doesn't like stuff falling from the sky on her. We had a re-enactment of a steeplechase race here yesterday, complete with me on the phone to Mr. Clean:

Me: "Oh My God... she's hauling BUTT around here. She's going to FALL! She's going to KILL herself!"
Him: "Lock her in the paddock, then."
Me: "Are you serious? You couldn't PAY me to go out there in the pasture right now. She'd Run. Me. OVER!"
Me: "Oh Lordy, here she comes. She's going to run into the fence. She's headed right for me. Spend the insurance money wisely, dear."

And then my phone died.

I would have LOVED to have seen his face at work at that moment. I didn't get phone service back for a few hours.

So... that was yesterday's drama. Today, I'm going to play a little hooky from work and watch a movie with C-Boy. If he ever gets here. Damn men... they're never on time. (Of course, while I'm whining about that... his tardiness DID give me a chance to blog. So.)

See ya soon!

A Wild Ride

2008-12-05T17:52:00.003-06:00

Sooo much has happened since I last blogged (not counting the "I'm still alive" note). I don't even know where to start. Oh wait, yes I do...

Remember those spider bites? Yeah. Not spider bites after all. Take it from me, folks, if you suddenly start showing up with little bites that look like maybe ants or spiders are snacking on you when you're not looking, and you can't find ANY signs of ants or spiders in your immediate vicinity, RUN to the doctor.

I didn't. Oh noooo. I made Mr. Clean bomb the house and check beneath the bed covers every night. I treated my little spidery-anty bites with hot epsom salt compresses and Neosporin (and they went away). Then I got a big one. And then it got bigger. And bigger.

Finally, I broke down and had Mr. Clean take me to the doctor... who immediately sent me to the hospital for a righteous staph infection!!

I've been to the ER a few times, when in labor with my boys and for two different ankle injuries (okay, make that three). Anyhow... point being: I have never been to the ER for any sort of injury, which required people to come at me with needles or scalpels or anything SHARP. I can now cross that little gem off my list of things to NEVER EVER EVER do again. They did unspeakable things to me, then stuck an IV in my arm. And just when I thought perhaps I might truly lose my shit... they gave me the good drugs.

I only remember one thing past that point... When the nurse (a HOT male nurse, btw, I Do remember that much) came by to remove my IV, my arm spurted a little blood. So I wigged out a bit. I'm not big on the blood gushing from my limbs, ya know? He turned to Mr. Clean, smiled as big as he possibly could and said, "Is she always this melodramatic?"

I sent him cookies.

So there's one reason I haven't been around. The antibiotics they gave me were, quoting my lovely pharmacist, "MONSTER doses which are going to kick your butt." They did. I pretty much slept and whimpered through Thanksgiving, getting up only to cook a turkey and a few pies.

Good things that came out of this experience:

I can now recognize staph from a mile away
I caught up on some much needed sleep and a few TV shows
I didn't gain an OUNCE over Thanksgiving... as a matter of fact, I lost 10 lbs.

So. The reason I didn't end up blogging last night...

Shaggy came home late from work and when he pulled up in the driveway, we could hear him gagging and retching outside. Of course, we ran to the door to see what was wrong -- right about the time he came bursting through it himself. Bringing along a giant cloud of SKUNK fumes.

To hear him tell it... as he turned onto our private road, a skunk at the corner lifted its tail and sprayed his car. While he had his windows open. When asked WHY on earth he had his windows open in such cold weather, he replied, "It smelled good outside!"

Apparently not for long.

It occurred to me not long after he'd stripped in the living room and run for the shower, to ask, "Umm.. where exactly was the skunk coming from?"

Shaggy: "Oh, the yard!"

One nice thing about still being a bit laid up? I had all the excuses I needed to send Mr. Clean outside to inspect the dogs for skunkage. And ohhhh boy, did they have it - you could smell them as soon as he opened the door. Thank goodness I know a great recipe for de-skunking (having provided it twice in the last few weeks to CBoy, whose Great Dane has had a couple of run-ins - probably with the same damn beast).

Another good thing about having had staph:

I didn't have to De-Skunk the dogs!

Of course, karma came to visit me today; a little payback for my schadenfreude... I found a grey eyelash. What the hell?

Not Dead...

2008-12-04T10:57:00.002-06:00

Just a quick shout-out to say I Am Alive here. I'll be posting something (hopefully) later today.

Until then, check out this site... and this one. They both make me laugh.

Quizzery

2008-11-10T11:21:00.003-06:00

It's raining and I'm thinking about writing (meaning: I am full of aimless procrastination and therefore surfin' the 'net). Anyhow. I came across this Quiz.

Oh. My.

This has got to be the ONLY quiz I've ever taken that really, truly, fully hit the nail on the head. I agree with EVERY word.

Freaky.

Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...

You Are a Bette!

You are a Bette -- "I must be strong"

Bettes are direct, self-reliant, self-confident, and protective.

How to Get Along with Me

* Stand up for yourself... and me.

* Be confident, strong, and direct.

* Don't gossip about me or betray my trust.

* Be vulnerable and share your feelings. See and acknowledge my tender, vulnerable side.

* Give me space to be alone.

* Acknowledge the contributions I make, but don't flatter me.

* I often speak in an assertive way. Don't automatically assume it's a personal attack.

* When I scream, curse, and stomp around, try to remember that's just the way I am.

What I Like About Being a Bette

* being independent and self-reliant

* being able to take charge and meet challenges head on

* being courageous, straightforward, and honest

* getting all the enjoyment I can out of life

* supporting, empowering, and protecting those close to me

* upholding just causes

What's Hard About Being a Bette

* overwhelming people with my bluntness; scaring them away when I don't intend to

* being restless and impatient with others' incompetence

* sticking my neck out for people and receiving no appreciation for it

* never forgetting injuries or injustices

* putting too much pressure on myself

* getting high blood pressure when people don't obey the rules or when things don't go right

Bettes as Children Often

* are independent; have an inner strength and a fighting spirit

* are sometimes loners

* seize control so they won't be controlled

* figure out others' weaknesses

* attack verbally or physically when provoked

* take charge in the family because they perceive themselves as the strongest, or grow up in difficult or abusive surroundings

Bettes as Parents

* are often loyal, caring, involved, and devoted

* are sometimes overprotective

* can be demanding, controlling, and rigid

Take Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz at HelloQuizzy

Try this one!

I'm Back!

2008-11-09T08:46:00.003-06:00

A couple of amazing things: I am up EARLY on a Sunday morning (well, at least when I started this I was). And I am blogging.

Sorry for the big BIG silence. I found myself stressing out SO much I had to go cave dwelling. It was either that or blog about the big No-No's: Work & Politics. So. I'm back! And my email box is overflowing. I have half a mind to just hit the big Delete but then I'd feel guilty and what if I missed something really funny?

A lot of things went without attention in my absence, unfortunately, so I've spent most of this weekend catching up. Thankfully, I was smart enough to take Monday off work for a much needed break. Serendipitously, I later found out I already had Tuesday off. Lord but I love it when life works out like that (and a resounding Hallelujah for banking holidays!).

I don't really have much else to say right now. The meetings at work went basically as expected. While slightly lower key than previous years, they can still be described as structured bitch sessions filled with high school flashbacks. Fun! I did not make them cupcakes.

As a matter of fact... I haven't made cupcakes in FOREVER. I think I baked myself into burnout or something. I haven't even had the inclincation to pull out a cupcake tin in a while. Of course, Thanksgiving IS coming up and I am sort of craving the pumpkin cupcakes with egg nog cream filling and bourbon caramel cream cheese icing. Yummmmmmm. I bought four cans of pumpkin the other day at the store.

Basically, life around here has been VERY low-key and laid back. One of my best friends, CBoy, moved back next door so there's been a lot of back and forth between the houses. Friday night we all sat around a campfire in the woods, playing guitars and singing funny songs made up on the fly. There may have been some beer and a bottle of bourbon involved. That's just how we roll.

It's getting cooler here so I'm gone a lot more now. I tend to stay home-bound during the summer months. I loathe loathe loathe the heat. But when it gets cold? I'm GONE. Out. Doing. Seeing. Being. And that's where I'm off to now. Bath & Body Works has released the holiday scents. I JUST (as in Last Night) ran out of my favorite holiday scented body cream so I'm going to drive into town to stock up for next year. Yippee. Then, tonight, it's True Blood Sunday. Dinner and Vampires. Fun!

I'll be back soon and hopefully with more to talk about. Right now I'm living in shrugville. What's up with me? *shrug* Not very much. I'm taking it easy, enjoying the clear skies, fall air, and campfire songs at midnight.

Attacked

2008-10-18T13:27:00.003-05:00

Living in the country, you're bound to come across the hell-created denizens of wildlife at one point or another. You know, cockroaches the length of your pinky finger...

Quick Digression: I know lots of Southern folks call these things Palmetto bugs but people? Don't kid yourself, they are ROACHES. Giant WINGED cockroaches that fly at your head like fighter planes and then laugh heartily when you try to step on them (I don't... I scream like a banshee and make Mr. Clean attack with large, large SHOES (but never mine)). If you live near lots and lots of pine trees, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't a clue? Check this out and then drop to your knees and thank God you don't live in the South. (p.s. you don't KNOW the ICK factor that occurred in finding that picture... dear lord... you're welcome.) Digression (and parentheticals) over.

Other beauties... fire ants - which, while they DO keep ticks away - Ewww - they also have a very serious military attack strategies for any interlopers who come within ten feet of their existence. Then you have scorpions and last, but not least, SPIDERS.

Obviously, if you have been reading my blog for a while you've figured out that I am not a fan of ANY of these little demon critters. Well, one of their hellish species has decided that they are NOT a fan of me any longer. Or maybe they REALLY REALLY LURVE me?

I don't know.

In the last month, I have been subjected to FOUR spider bites. Folks, I've never in my LIFE been bitten by a spider until NOW. Do they love my vanilla scent? Am I invading some little rave-space they created without my knowledge? Because I know this much - I am not getting bit outside. It is in my bed or on my couch or at my DESK. They've shown up after work (desk) or before bed (couch) or in the morning (bed).

And I am MIGHTILY sick of them. First, they hurt like the dickens. The most recent - on the back of my calf - feels like it's on fire. I'm currently sitting on an ice pack to help relieve a little pain, though part of the ice pack is touching my arse so... yeah, not that comfortable.

I looked all this up on Web MD and they only give symptoms for poisonous spider bites like black widows and brown recluses. Well shit. We have BOTH of those all around here but I've never once seen either of them in my house. I KNOW it is not a black widow but the brown recluse description (of the bite) fits... on the very very MILD side. In other words, it hurts. There is a blister. And it hurts. Did I mention it hurts? And they all looked like ant bites the day before they started to hurt like Hades kiss.

I am currently sporting two very pretty band-aids. One small and NEON YELLOW on my forearm and one large and UGLY WALKING WOUND one on my calf. Pretty!!

I'm also SCARED to sit at my desk... I keep looking all around me. Is another creeping closer RIGHT NOW for a sneak attack while I blog? I'm betting it is. There is certainly one staring at me with its cluster of EYES.. Right. This. Second. Or maybe they are congregating in my couch cushions, waiting for me to watch a movie? I know they are not gathered in my bed. I dragged all the blankets, sheets, and down mattress off this morning. Again. Which leaves me this... Are they creepy-crawling into bed with me while I sleep and then leaving once they have tasted my flesh??

Oh dear Lord...

No one else is getting bit. And part of me is MIGHTILY IRKED by this fact. Why just ME?

Spiders! Go AWAY!

Accountability

2008-10-10T18:56:00.008-05:00

Life is so funny sometimes. Like earlier this week, when Doodlebug's Assistant Principal called me.

AP: Hi! Your son was in my office today because of something that happened on the bus two days ago.
Me: Really? I knew there had been an issue with some Pokemon cards but...
AP: Oh, no. This is because of something else.
Me: ...... ?
AP: See. Apparently he was listening to someone's iPod on the bus and this other kid began pulling on the wires. Doodlebug told him to stop and the other kid said something a bit insulting so your child...
Me: Yes?
AP: Well, he told him to "shut the fuck up".
Me: Oh REALLY?
AP: I have to say, though, that when I called him into the office, he was not only the most polite and respectful child I've ever spoken to, he immediately said, "Yes, ma'am, that's Exactly what I told that boy." And then he said, "I'm very sorry I used that language."
Me: Well it's nice that he was polite about it. And truthful.
AP: It sure was. We don't get much of the truthful with this age group.
Me: Well thanks for letting me know. We'll discuss it with him when he gets home.
AP: Don't be too hard on him. He's just so darn sweet.
Me: Heh. Okay, then.

Now you might find it odd that I dissolved into fits of laughter when I got off that phone call, but I did. No, the situation itself was Not funny. But see... Shaggy has been sprinkling that pretty little word all over the place lately and I've been telling him - time after time after time - that his little brother is going to pick that word up and then HE is going to get into trouble for using it. And when that happens... the Hammer of Hell is going to come down upon his (Shaggy's) head for providing a bad example.

Except it didn't happen. For MONTHS, it didn't happen. And now it has. Yay! There is nothing like real world examples to teach your kids things. After a VERY long discussion with the spawnlings, we created a Cuss Jar where foul language will cost you $1 per word.

Funniest Not Funny thing about it? I have officially placed more money in the Cuss Jar this week than anyone else. Hmmmph. (though none of mine have been the F-bomb. I reserve that little gem for non-spawnling ears)

Mr. Clean thinks it's the most hilarious thing ever. The whole idea was that when the jar was full, we'd use the money to buy a family game. Of course, NOW, Mr. Clean thinks I might as well just go out and buy one since it seems I'm going to be funding it anyhow. Hmmmph.

Speaking of money... have you SEEN the stock markets this week? Whew-doggy. Luckily, we're in a position where it's not affecting us personally so much (our 401k's will be fine). PLUS we just got a sweetheart deal through work to open an account, which Normally you'd have to have $25k MINIMUM to open... except they're letting employees open it with NO MINIMUM. I think I'm going to be buying me some stocks before next week. There are a few we'd be stupid not to get in on, ones I've been researching for a lonnnng time now.

--- I should mention that the deal was on the table BEFORE the market plummeted. I don't want you to go thinking our Big Mama Company thought to do this in response to the current economy. Our BMC is one of the only ones that has NOT been affected by the recent economic crisis in a negative way. If anything, we're doing more business now than ever before. Much to my personal dismay (though the overtime isn't a BAD thing, just an inconvenient thing).

What HAS put a serious crimp in my budget? Freaking Hurricane Ike. Still. When Ike blew through here, I mentioned we lost some trees. Well, we also lost the garden. I have a couple of pepper plants and some herbs left but they're not doing too much in the way of growing things. So. We had to buy a bunch of fresh veggies on our recent grocery trip. I exploded at the card swipe machine and they had to call for a clean-up.

The craptastic part of it is that if I chose to feed my family on boxed, processed CRAP... my grocery bill would be LOVELY. But because we eat tons and tons of fresh and non-processed food... we pay out the hind-parts for it. Go figure. You'd think the reward would be the healthier eating, right?

Well... I actually had lots more to say about the economy but I don't want to start a storm with my views/opinions. I'll just leave you with this:

Say a new stock... we'll call it Dragonfly Inc.... hit the market and everyone was hearing all this great stuff about it. Soon, people were jumping to buy it because, Hello! Great! Stock! (or so everyone says). Then, Dragonfly Inc. goes belly-up because it was a CRAP company. So sad for all those people who bought stock in it... too bad they didn't, I don't know... LOOK into the company before putting their money out there.

Does the government go in and say, "Hey! What a raw deal you got by not looking where you were putting your money. Guess what? We're going to Pay You Back... because you know... that wasn't really fair that you didn't do your homework." ??? Ummm no. They don't. Because playing the stock market is like playing Roulette at The Mirage in Vegas. You play the wrong number and you're shit out of luck.

Well that works for just about anything in this world. Always read the fine print before you stick your money out there; I don't care what it is. Always know "the worst that can happen". And if you decide you can accept the-worst-that-can-happen? And it happens? Deal with it.

It's called Personal Accountability. We used to know what this was...

I guarantee my spawnlings know what it is. That Cuss Jar on the top of my TV? It proves it. You make the wrong decision, you pay for it. Easy as that.

5 Ways You Know You're Losing It

2008-10-05T15:37:00.005-05:00

1. I bought 3 lbs of chicken breasts last night and then found them still on the kitchen counter this morning... I'd never put them in the fridge or freezer. (In my defense, no one else bothered to notice them there, either. Not until I went looking for them today and could not find them in the fridge.)

2. I put on my bra inside-out yesterday... and Did. Not. Notice. Until I found I couldn't get the damn thing off before bed last night.

3. Deciding to paint my nails today, I finished one hand and then walked off to do something so they could dry before I did the other. I then painted the other hand a Different. Color.

4. I lost my favorite favorite slum shorts about two weeks ago. You know those make-you-feel-good-So!-Comfortable!-you-can't-wait-to-slip-into-them-after-a-rough-day shorts? Yeah. LOST THEM. I actually CALLED family members I'd stayed with over the last month to ask if perhaps I'd left them behind. To no avail. --- Yesterday, they were on the end of the bed. Everyone here claims it wasn't them who left them there or found them or ANYthing. APPARENTLY they just popped in out of the ether. So. The fairies are now taking shorts in ADDITION to my hair clips/scrunchies.

5. I broke down and CRIED today... because I knew I was forgetting something but couldn't remember what it was I'd forgotten. Again. This makes four times this weekend and not one of the forgotten rememberings have come back to me.

I'm either losing my mind OR... it's October. You know, that crazy month where I start planning a week-long session of meetings with every employee in our company to listen intently to all their biggest peeves. It's like a round robin of misery and whining and blah-blah-blah poor me, which I then get to turn into Action! Items! for next year. Wheeeeeeeeeee. We now have over 300 employees. I think... perhaps... I NEED DRUGS.

So ummm yeah, blogging is going to be sparse for a bit, y'all. I can't help it. My mind is trying to crawl out my ears and run away to live with Patience.

And -- OF COURSE -- the Plot Bunnies picked now... NOW... to have hopped on home. With ARDENT ENTHUSIASM, they are currently holed up in their Room O'Love, FEVERISHLY creating lots and lots of little Scene Babies. (Who are all starting to knock at my brain's back door, while puling, "Please let me in! I'm so cute and fun and you KNOW you want to play!") That's timing, folks!

.... And Then I Hit The Other Wall

2008-10-02T00:45:00.003-05:00

Just a quickie... I'm not gone, just not very talkative this week. Work is a bit like a racquetball game just now. And I'm the ball.

Wheeeeee!

Y'all take care out there and I'll be back real soon.

BabySis Went To Prague...

2008-09-22T16:33:00.005-05:00

So. Prague.

BabySis is back home now and sporting a collection of Absinthe she apparently smuggled home in her luggage. Or at least I think she smuggled it home? I seem to recall something about the real Absinthe being illegal here? If any Customs agents are reading this, REALLY... from what I hear they are LITTLE BITTY bottles. Nothing to concern yourselves with, I'm sure. Run along now and find someone hoarding a thousand pounds of pot.

Back to the Absinthe... My BabySis has this WILD idea that she's going to bring those bottles over here and I'm going to drink them with her.

Umm... I'm not.

I'm ever so slightly tempted to... but I'm not going to do it and I'll tell you why --- it's a CONTROL thing. Yes, I WAS a wild hellion growing up and I drank and smoked (and not all of it tobacco) BUT I never did a single thing other than that because I just cannot FATHOM the idea of being under the control of anything other than my own pink brain matter. <--- run on, and I don't care because my tummy is upset so I am a wee bit on the cranky side at the moment.

Anyhow. I'm sure I'll be getting a phone call after she reads this. [Sorry kiddo... I'm sure CBoy would be more than happy to join in your green fairy fun. Maybe? Just not me. If I see a green fairy right about now... I'm liable to run naked and screaming down our country road and THEN what would the neighbors think? I'll be happy to video tape YOU trippin' the rift, though!]

Of course, I know that NONE of this is what you're waiting to hear about. YOU are waiting to hear about one Sexy Eastern European who works at a castle. Want to know a secret?

SO. AM. I.

This is what I got on Thursday, September 11th:

YES, that is EXACTLY what you think it is. And the below selection came with EXPLANATIONS (necessary, as you can see).

Okay, is it just me or do all of those look like some freaky fandangled version of door knobs or fishing reels? I can't quite wrap my head around those... but then I guess that's sort of the point, one's head NOT being the location they are intended for. Heh.

Of course, directly after receiving those pictures I found myself in a rush to clear out my house and hunker down at Wahoo's before Hurricane Ike hit.

And right in the middle of all THAT drama? I get the following text message: "The castle in Slovenia is 17 HOURS away. Not 4." I may have uttered a few choice words and then, while watching tree tops impersonate ballerinas doing Swan Lake, I texted back: "WTF?" ...and promptly lost phone service entirely.

Now. Under NORMAL circumstances... say, NOT in the middle of a hurricane, I would have texted PARAGRAPHS of reasons why I did not CARE that it turns out Google Maps is on crack and the castle was, in reality, 17 hours away.

Because I am a pain. And bossy. And the eldest, so I get to tell my younger sisters what to do and they are SUPPOSED to listen.

AND because I am STILL convinced it is IMPERATIVE my baby sister meet this guy. (yes, it still sounds strange to me too, but I can't help it) I WOULD have texted that she needed to get her blessed little arse on that train and ride those 17 hours or... I don't know... buy a flippin' plane ticket or something. Seriously? How expensive could that have been over there? I'm talking FATE stuff here, y'all. You can't put a price tag on that!

ALAS, I WAS in the middle of a hurricane and concerned with things like the roof falling in under a cascade of Loblolly Pine trees and my phone was pretty much useless, so I didn't push her. I wish I had NOW.

Digression: If I'm convinced she has to meet this guy as some intricate and freaky tiny thread of overall Fate and she gets there only to find out it's too far (it wasn't... pssssbbbt)... does that mean Ole Miss Fate stepped in and trumped me or was BabySis being an eedjit? Or was BabySis' being an eedjit the actuality of Ole Miss Fate stepping in? ---- Hmmm... that one might take me a bit to consider. It's making my head hurt just now. Digression over.

So, no. She did NOT go to the castle and she did NOT meet said Sexy Eastern European castle guy. And I am SORELY disappointed. Because my BabySis went all the way to Prague and all I got were some damn S*X MACHINE PICTURES.

And also these:

You can click to make those bigger but they will still be BONES. I'm a little creeped out by the little angel playing music to a SKULL on that chandelier. Okay, more than a little. It looks like a creepy baby head being serenaded by another creepy baby head. I think this is where Tim Burton gets all his ideas.

And something else I think? This last picture, of a quote on the wall of a Starbucksesque coffee shop, is somehow VERY ironic.

All that being said, BabySis ASSURES me she is planning another trip JUST for that Sexy Eastern European castle guy. Hummph. He'll probably be married by then.

Power

2008-09-20T12:54:00.008-05:00

We officially had our power restored late yesterday afternoon... about an hour or so after I blogged. Of course. Not that I'm looking any gift horse in the mouth, oh no, I'm not doing that. Oh.My.Goodness was it good to have some comforts back! The first thing I did was take a long HOT shower and then blow-dried my hair straight. Sure, it took an hour but I did it IN my bathroom (instead of the living room) and no one had to HOLD up a tiny tiny mirror for me. Yes! (I'm easy to please.)

In other news, my Dad sent me pictures of the yacht club and their boat. Ike had a mighty punch. I thought I'd share just how lucky they got.

Yacht Club Parking Lot

Cabanas, where the guys spend their Boys Weekend ever summer

This used to be part of a floating dock slip, which runs the length of the boat. Apparently the boat came with it. Still tied.

Other boats nearby

And finally, Dad's boat... which except for a few scratches from a board with a nail in it and the loss of a drain hole cover, came out perfectly. See what I mean about the OCD tying of ropes? I'm SO not going to tease him about that now.

So. Lucky.

Tomorrow, I'll try to get in here and blog about BabySis' travels. There were some mighty disappointments but I do have some pictures as well. Stay tuned.

Behind Blue Eyes

2008-09-19T11:12:00.004-05:00

At fourteen, I was a wild little thing; an ice-cold soda can shook up and spewing with rebellion. If I could have gotten a glaring tattoo stating "Looking For Trouble" I would have worn it proudly... completely unconscious of any negative message it might have exuded. I didn't think about consequences or danger or anything else so unfortunately important to think about these days. I just danced around from day to day singing, "I'm young, I'm wild, and I'm free."

I sneaked out of my friend's house. All. The. Time. At night. We'd walk along a creek to a nearby bridge and then follow the road to a nearby convenience store, where everyone cool congregated. Everyone cool being everyone older. Such cute guys to fawn over like puppies.

I met a guy; he was there most nights. He was older; as most of them were. It wasn't a big deal back then, being older like that. He was gangly tall and cute, with dark hair that brushed his shoulders. He had smiling eyes. He was playful and funny and his laugh lit a fire in my stomach.

He only ever called me "Blue Eyes", which made my heart flutter around in my chest like a wild little bird trying to escape, even though they are sometimes also green or gray. He talked about them all the time, my eyes. I never could quite grasp what about them entranced him so fully... but my ego soared for it all the same.

He walked me home one night, along the creekbank. We stopped beneath the bridge and he kissed my socks off for the next couple of hours. I'd never been kissed quite like that. Oh My God. It was like time stopped and the world ceased to exist. When it would have led to other things, he stopped - of his own accord - then gave me his jacket because I was cold. It smelled like him, which made my head woozy and my stomach nervous. I crushed SO hard.

I wore that jacket to school like some badge of honor. I have a boyfriend, it said. Someone cares for me; someone cool and older who doesn't go to this school. And every night, I hugged that jacket to me, inhaling the scent of him, before I put it on a hanger to wait for the next morning.

Of course, it didn't last long and we parted ways... but stayed friends. You couldn't Not stay friends with this guy; he was just that great. I kept the jacket. It was misplaced or taken by one of my sisters years later. I don't know. I don't have it any more.

He grew up and got married to a really nice girl. They had half a dozen kids. Seriously. I grew up, got married, and had kids myself. We stayed in touch, sort of. We'd see each other from time to time and he still called me Blue Eyes in a way that continued to set off a little flutter in my chest.

The last time I saw him and his family, Shaggy was around six or so... so ten years ago? They moved a bit farther north and we just sort of lost track. I thought about him a couple of years ago and wondered where he was and what he was up to. So I looked for him, online... but I couldn't find him. Not too strange, really. Not everyone is hooked up and live on the 'net.

I found out this past Monday, he died.

The story is tragic and sad and SO beyond my capability to understand. I'm not going to repeat it here. He's gone... that's all there is to say. And I'm heartbroken; for him, for his family... for not trying harder to track him down when I had the chance. He was only 40 years old. It's stupid and I'm trying hard not to be angry. I'm not succeeding very well. I am angry. I want to rail at someone. Anyone. It's not fair.

Rest In Peace, darlin'. At a time when it would have been SO easy to take advantage of a stupid kid like me, you instead took me under your wing and happily kept yourself to kissing my socks off, never expecting anything more. I'll never forget the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled and the way your laugh made everyone around you happy. I'll always think of you when someone mentions blue eyes and it will always make my heart flutter just a little. I'm sorry I didn't try harder to find you.

[Still without power here, hence the lack of posts. I hear we may get something back today or tomorrow, though. We'll see.]

Up Yours, Ike

2008-09-15T12:42:00.004-05:00

I am sitting on an ice chest, my laptop's on a dog crate, and my feet are on a cat crate. My broadband service is intermittent at best and I'm semi-patiently trying to ignore the horde of f*ck-bugs (I believe nice people call them "love-bugs" but here in Texas... they are the little stinkers that plaster themselves into the front end of our cars, most likely saying, "Oh f*ck" at the last second). A tiny, tiny neon green spider just crawled across my hand. BUT....

I am on my FRONT PORCH so it's ALL GOOD.

*removing bug from coffee before continuing*

Y'all, the weather here is gorgeous, which is nice because we have no power. I guess this is our (collective) reward for handling this storm with grace and civility. As rewards go, I'll take it and say, Thank You.

Ike was a real humdinger, I'll tell ya, and we seriously dodged a bullet. Thankfully "he" was nice enough to push a little farther East at the last minute. [Hah! I just picked off a bug from my leg and tossed it... Shaggy's dog, who is napping next to me flipped his head to the side and caught it in his mouth!] Anyhow, the 2nd to last track had the eye going directly over us, which - Most Definitely - would have been the demise of our house. As it stands, we lost around 20-25 trees, none of which hit houses, and only one of which hit our fence. We got lucky.

Wahoo's house is only about 15 minutes from us and slightly south. The damage there is about the same as here. The stay was... well, it wasn't quite fun. It was difficult. There was a lot of drama and a house full of kids and dogs. Let's just say I don't have any funny stories.

Our initial drive back home (just Mr. Clean and I), to check things out, was... Holy Cow. The road out from Wahoo's was littered with trees and snapped power lines, along with rising waters from nearby creeks. The smaller road leading to our house... Lordy. We serpentined around trees on the left, then trees on the right (all of them big enough to block the view so we couldn't see if someone else was doing the same from the opposite direction). And then the road disappeared completely. It looked like it was just Wiped Out. No road. As we drove a little closer, we realized, it WAS still there but under a veritable SHAG CARPET of leaves and debris. To say the least, we took a different route back to Wahoo's - longer but much, much safer though we still had to drive over multiple power lines. I'm embarrassed to say I was so nervous about seeing if we had a house and whatnot, I failed to take pictures. Sorry y'all.

Still. We're home and a cold front has blown through so we're comfortable. We got our well hooked up to the generator last night so we have water, though only COLD. Wooo hooo cold showers! The kids are out of school until further notice and I'm currently using my vacation time from work. Not quite how I envisioned using it but... you know.

I can heartily say I am officially SICK of burgers and hot dogs. *laughing* Last night, C-Boy and our new neighbor (R), came by to have burgers and tater tots with us. They brought four huge filets of SHARK with them (R's freezer was defrosting). What a relief from grilled COW that was!! Yum!

I am also VERY thankful. My Dad's house is near Kemah and his new boat is IN Kemah. If you've had the chance to see pictures of the Kemah Boardwalk on the news (under water and trashed), his boat is VERY close to there. We pass the boardwalk every time we sail out into Galveston Bay. When they evacuated, the expectation was 1-5' of water in their house and a total loss of their boat (valued at about $400k alone). They called yesterday to report that their house is FINE. No water.

They were not allowed into the marina. Being determined, they found a way to the other side --- [I just squished a bug between my boobs... Accidentally! This is REALLY annoying. And gross]. Anyhow. They went to a different location and were able to see the boat with binoculars. It appears to be OKAY. It is above water and does not appear to have any visible damage. ALL of the boats around theirs... catastrophic. Most are under water. Dad went back to that boat FOUR times to tie and re-tie it, and at the time we sort of giggled about the OCD of his repeated trips. Apparently, he knew what he was doing and the extra trips paid off. BIG sigh of relief for them. I was really worried.

The sad thing is that a lot of Galveston landmarks I grew up with are now gone. The Seawall looks like a disaster zone with the debris. Crystal Beach is gone; it was one of the most gorgeous beaches out there. The Kemah area is... geez.

But you know what? We Texans are hearty stock and we'll Cowboy Up and get through all of this JUST FINE. We always do. And that, my dears, is why I love it here so much. Even things like Ike aren't going to make us stray from our way of life here. We'll help each other clean up and start over. No Big Deal.

Be back sometime soon. When power and connectivity are restored completely... or at least a little more dependable.

Bugging Out

2008-09-11T13:00:00.003-05:00

Just a quick update... After seeing the newest track of Ike, we are definitely leaving. We're packing up all the necessary items and will be heading over to Wahoo's house tomorrow - where she is having a BIG-ASS sleepover.

I don't know if I'm going to have a house come Sunday, though. It depends on whether or not the winds REALLY hit like they're saying they will. If the weather news is right... we have probably a 50/5o chance of losing it. It's a mobile home. It was meant to be temporary while we built a house. The house hasn't yet been built.

It may be started pretty damn soon, though! And if so... I'll be the first to pony up and say God works in mysterious ways.

In the meantime, I'm packing up dogs/cat in crates, blow-up mattresses, photos, insurance and important papers, and not much else. The horse is staying here. She has more than 6 acres to run on and the only portion of fence that could be in trouble leads to another 19 acres, which are perfectly safe. I'm kicking myself for not having her micro-chipped sooner. Our information in a protective packet, attached to her halter, will have to be enough.

A small rant -- What IS IT with older people and The Stubborn? Mr. Clean's parents are insisting on staying. We are insisting they go with us. It's a big freaking argument I really don't have time for just now. They have to go and that's that. *sigh*

My grandmother, who lives just on the other side of the Galveston causeway bridge (a dozen miles in) is also refusing to leave. ARGH! One of the cousins is headed that way to physically remove her, if necessary.

So. I might not be around for a bit. I will have my laptop and broadband card with me, though, so if things aren't all Hell In A Handbasket... I'll blog mid-storm or something. I'm SURE there will be great conversations happening around me. Wahoo has 4 kids. I have 2. Between the two of us, we'll have 3 GRANNIES along for the ride. Funny is BOUND to happen. Silver lining, y'all... Silver Lining.

Quick Prague Update: BabySis has arrived and has forwarded pictures to her Flickr account... of the S*x Machine Museum. Oh. My. I don't think I can post most of them here but when this storm has passed, I'll figure out which ones I can.

...With My Hair On Fire

2008-09-10T18:31:00.004-05:00

I should have started dinner ohhhh about half an hour ago. Instead, I've been catching up on blogs; something I normally do throughout my work day. -- On a SEPARATE computer, y'all... like I would really dig into work time. Pshaaaa. I'm like an ambidextrous multi-tasking Einstein when it comes to checking blogs while analyzing work data. (That's not ego talking, just facts, and I was raised to toot my horn when I can... it's good for the soul.)

Anyhow. My satellite internet connection, of late, has been.... We'll say Less Than Stellar and Less Than Faithful. I might have told y'all a while back, it was going to cost $125 just to get a technician out here to look at the dish (which they think has something wrong with it, causing the intermittent service I've been experiencing for MONTHS now). Yeah. Well, I wasn't unhinged enough about the service to excuse throwing that kind of money out the window.

This weekend... I became unhinged. Then I sent Mr. Clean out to the dish and instructed him to push on it a bit. No, that way. And now up a little. Back down. More. More. HOLY FREAKING BULLSH*T ON A BISCUIT! --- nothing worked.

We called. We inquired. They wanted us to repeat the issue we'd already repeated FIVE previous times. Let's just say that my WORK includes a very detailed look into the habits/customs of a customer service desk. I "judge" customer service reps on a daily basis and then work to improve how things are done, what's NOT to be done, and what needs to be done more. Furthermore, through this work, I'm VERY accustomed to how "call tickets" work and the fact that if I am a repeat caller and I give you a CALL TICKET NUMBER, you'd better have the conversation that took place at that time in front of you.

And they did.

And they DID NOT CARE. They STILL wanted to go through the hour-long spiel of checking connections and blah blah blah... my flippin' head just shot off my shoulders and stained my ceiling with brain matter! I handed the phone to Mr. Clean. He asked them a very pertinent question (after giving them WHAT-FOR): "This $125 service call.... does that INCLUDE any parts or work that occurs after the problem is located?"

The answer: No
His response: Cancel my account. Yes, I know that's going to cost me money to cancel, but less than you just quoted to fix the problem. And I don't like you any more. Your service STINKS. So cancel it. Yes, I am QUITE SURE. Thanks but no thanks.

So.

I have had no internet service during the day while I work. Because I am using my broadband card TO work. Ack! Mr. Clean is purchasing a new card this weekend and then I'll be back up and running... even during STORMS. Yea!

Of course, by the time I get another broadband card this weekend, I will probably NOT be at my house. Because IKE is coming. And IKE looks like a BAMF. So I will most likely run further inland, like a baby. Maybe. I don't know yet.

If I do move a bit farther north, I'll be spending the weekend in BabySis' house. Because she is NOT there! She, as of just an hour or so ago... arrived in PRAGUE. She also set up a Flickr account and will be adding pictures throughout her trip... ESPECIALLY those she takes while visiting nearby Slovenia to search for a GUY. And then I will update y'all on what's going on!

Plus, she's visiting a S*X MACHINE MUSEUM! My hair stylist, who's been to the Czech Republic, told me about it. So, of course, I told BabySis about it. And she went, "Woo hooo, I HAVE to see that!" And since I got a BIG GIANT NOT-FUNNY bout of green-eyed jealousy about the time she was boarding her outgoing plane (because ummm WHY in the name of all that's holy, did I NOT go with her? I can't remember WHY!! I could have afforded it!! *sigh*)... I said, "I hate you and I hope you have the most wonderful trip ever. But I hate you. Don't die on the plane, though."

So she's going to take PICTURES.

But first I gotta figure out this IKE thing... because I'm a little freaked out. And running around like my hair's on fire.

Fruit

2008-09-08T16:46:00.003-05:00

It makes no sense to me, still, how tomatoes are considered a fruit. Every time I hear that stated, I respond with a half-cocked eyebrow and a silent, "Huh?"

Anyhow.

Thanks to everyone who commented with some ideas. I slogged through the 'net for a while over the weekend and finally decided that I will skin a majority of the tomatoes and then freeze them, to be used in sauces later. It's NUTS how many of them we have.

The rest will go for salads and salsas - especially the salsa because I also have jalepenos coming out of my ears. Hot, spicy, make you CRY LIKE A BABY little suckers. The first round we got were big and yummy. And then the deer came in and ate all of my garden down to nubs. We put up an electric wire fence and the plants came back... but now they only give little suckers that will burn the tastebuds right off your tongue.

Of course, my boys treat them like pranks... playing more rounds of Close-Your-Eyes-And-Taste-This than I care to discuss. Usually there is much wet-cat-squalling accompanying these games, as well as sugar granules spilled across my kitchen floor during hasty spoonfuls popping into enflamed mouths. Boys.

Speaking of boys... and fruit... I just returned from picking up my youngest loin fruit from school. Because he missed the bus. How did he miss the bus, you might wonder? It seems he was SO busy playing with one of those paper fortune-teller things, he simply failed to hear the bus being called. And he was playing SO quietly, the teacher didn't see him still there. That's my baby... LASER FOCUS, I tell ya.

Heh... and speaking of fortune-teller games. One of my favorites is playing Where's-The-Hurricane-Going-To-Hit. When I FIRST heard about Ike, before he even got NEAR Cuba... I told Mr. Clean, "That one's ours." He said, "No. It's going to hit closer to Alabama/Florida." I shook my head and insisted, "It's going to nail US. You watch." Even last night he refused to accept my fortune-telling skills (though I totally CALLED Sarah Palin as the VP pick TWO MONTHS before it was announced), blindly stating that it would go to New Orleans.

Guess what the latest track is? Go ahead, guess. If you guessed Right. At. Us.... you'd totally win a non-existent PRIZE.

Now we just wait and see if it's to our East or to our West. If to our East, we'll stay right where we are and enjoy some wind and rain. We learned our lesson skedaddling for Rita, only to have her hit where we'd moved to (and leaving our home & land thoroughly UNTOUCHED in the process). If it heads JUST West of Galveston, though... well, crap. It all depends on how big it is coming in. Anything over a Category 2 and we're skedaddling again. *sigh*

I won't have much to pack, though. It's with great embarassment I admit that all of the important baby books and photos and whatnot that we packed during Rita? I umm... I never unpacked them.

And now I have to go dig through all that stuff to retrieve photos for a project Doodlebug is working on for school. How's that for a last segue? Genius. *grin*

Ack!

2008-09-07T13:11:00.003-05:00

Lots of comments this past week and I just haven't been able to get to them all, so I wanted to give a quick shout-out to:

Beeswax: Hey there! Glad to see you back and laughing. Now go update your blog. *grin*

Dancinfairy: Ohhhh, don't I know the temptation of writing about work. And also, for me, POLITICS. Lordy, but I want to write about the current political race. Of course, work would fry me for talking about them, because I'm connected to a large Fortune 500 company, and I would not be showing my best foot... because I have NOTHING nice to say about my particular co-workers at the moment. (run-on much?)

And politics? Well... unless I want to start a political blog, I don't think politics belongs here. *shrug*

BabySis: You better CALL me before you leave tomorrow!!! Aww, heck with that. I'm calling you now, while I write.

Cousin Bubbles: *sniff* I'm so sorry, yes, it is what you are dreading hearing (but you should already know that because I finally broke down and emailed you). And also... 14 times? It takes FOURTEEN times to repeat something before it sinks in? I have three words: Oh. Hell. No.

I don't have the patience to repeat something more than THREE times (and even then, it's wearing on me by the second repetition). How about ONCE with a really good emphasis like, say... a right knock on the head with a crowbar? Then that ONE time will be significantly associated with something to cause hella-memory-capture! Yes?

Of course, if you're dealing with the same person over a period of time with many things to have to remember... they might be brain damaged by the end of that relationship. Oh Darn.

There. Now that all of that is taken care of...

I am SO not happy with nature right now. Earlier in the week, I noticed I had two ant bites on the side of my calf. Most definitely fire ant bites, because we have LOADS of those little suckers around here --- by choice. I know, I know... NUTS right? Well, you choose - fire ants or big honkin' cow/deer ticks. By keeping the ants, we lose the ticks. Yay! I hate ticks. At least I can SEE the damn ants to avoid them.

Umm, obviously not, though... as, like I said, I was sporting two bites on my calf.

They're positioned JUST SO, so when I sit in my office chair in my normal pretzel fashion, that part of my calf sort-of rubs on the leather. By Friday afternoon, I noticed the bite being rubbed the most was getting VERY angry with me. I put my famous deodorant cure on them both and tried not to sit on it. The lower one was mostly gone by the evening but the other was just more inflamed.

Today? I'm starting to wonder if it's a spider bite instead. (Did a spider like SEE the ant bite and get jealous or were they possible arguing and I got into the middle of it?) That MotherScratcher HURTS and it's UGLY looking and it HURTS and it's swollen and infected red. Did I mention it HURTS with a stinging burning sensation not unlike the moment you are bit by a fire ant... except it does not go away?

I fear I'll be heading into the doctor on Monday, which scares the ever-lovin' bejeezus out of me because what are they going to do? Are they going to pick up a scalpel? OH MY LORD... I might need Mr. Clean to come with, in order to hold me down. I am NOT a fan of The Doctor. Nothing against them, I think they're great. I just don't want them touching me with sharp objects. AT ALL. (in other words, I'm a Big Ass Baby)

Things I AM happy with:

1) Shaggy got himself a JOB. And a DRIVER'S LICENSE. Okay, so I'm not necessarily HAPPY about the license, though I am proud. And scared shitless. He drove himself to work on Saturday, for the first time ever. He's so sweet. He texted me from the feed store (where I'd sent him to pick up horse feed on the way to work). He then texted me when he got to work, so I was all comfy and not pacing with the worry. And then, after work, he asked if he could drive to a friend's house and I said, "No. Don't push it." And he didn't argue!

2) Doodlebug had Grandparent's Day at his school on Friday. His live-next-door Grandpa couldn't go so he invited my Dad. I told him not to expect much, because they DO live an hour and a half away. But NO! Daddy was thrilled and immediately made plans to be there! And then he made further plans to take Doodlebug for a weekend sailing trip, too.

We've been talking a while now about Doodlebug setting out on weekends alone with Dad, minus Shaggy, but he (DB) has been a little trepidatious about it all. See, he's not yet a big fan of the new boat. She's wider so when she leans over into the wind, it's not as easy for a short person to brace themselves against the center post in the cockpit. Of course, his first outing in the boat, she heeled over quite far and Doodlebug got a little scared. That being said, he recently decided Oh Hell Yes, he wanted to go on sailing weekends with Papa S, by himself.

So I met them both in town on Friday, in order to pass along an overnight bag. Daddy had brought his Corvette so it was NOT a surprise to see my youngest sitting tall in the front seat, with a grin splitting his face in two. He barely had the patience to hug and kiss me, he was in such a hurry to get on with HIS weekend. *laughing*

Apparently, it's been a GREAT weekend, too... because I have not heard a THING from either of them since that moment.

And in all the silence... I have managed to write TWO flippin' pages of book. Because my leg hurts. Because it is too quiet. Because I am waiting on a NEW pair of $150 ear buds (because the stupid evil psychotic cat pulled a SchaNAZI and chewed through the wires of my current pair).

Oh, by the way, if you think I actually PAID $150 for that first pair... you're NUTS. I found them on sale for $80 or something like that. And then, when my electrical taped chewed pair finally gave out, I went searching for a new sale... and found out they are No Longer MADE. Ack!! After a few more HOURS of searching, I finally found ONE pair on EBay. For $50. Oh Hells Yes! You know I jumped on that deal. They should arrive tomorrow.

And if that cat comes NEAR this pair, I will be soon wearing a cat-skin cap. I think her Tortiose-shell color will quite nicely compliment my auburn hair.

(of course I feel VERY guilty for just writing that because said cat came home the other day with a fat left foot. I think she must have gotten into a tangle with something poisonous -- possibly whatever bit my leg! Or a scorpion. Or a small snake. Of course HERS went down by the next day and she's fine again. Yeah. Forget that guilt thing.)

That's all I've got today. I promised C-Boy I'd run (drive) up to his place and see all the improvements he made this weekend. And I have to figure out how/when I'm getting my youngest child back. And I need to pull some chicken out for dinner.

Oh, quick question --- Do any of you know what to do with five pounds of roma tomatoes? My garden decided to give it all up at once and I haven't a CLUE what to do with them all (and I've already given away HALF of the bounty!). ANY ideas would be GRAND!

Twitching

2008-09-03T18:39:00.002-05:00

Everyone now and then, things come together in such a way it makes me believe the Cosmos has a Very SICK sense of humor. All culminating ~of course~ with me suffering from a nervous twitching of my left eye and my shoulders and neck breaking out in The Spasms.

Does that ever happen to you?

Things currently making my left eye go Crazy-Twitchy:

Smashing Pumpkins' Closing Time, immediately followed by The Beastie Boys' Fight For Your Right (To Party) on the radio while I'm doing something IMPORTANT, which prevents me from changing the station... so I have to actually HEAR them.
My satellite internet connection
Spawnlings who insist on poking me & saying, "Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom..." fifty-bajillion times in a row while I'm trying to compose a business email regarding someone's ROYAL F*** UP that I've just found (which just happens to affect the entire previous month's reports).
Aforementioned F*** Up, which has now re-occurred multiple times. I mean, seriously? How many times can I show the proper way to do things before it settles into people's heads for GOOD?
Texas Summer Heat
Hearing "Shut up, STUPID!"
Commercials... Everywhere I turn, it's all I hear these days.
The school bus, which CANNOT EVER show up on time, leaving me standing in 150% humidity with freshly-washed hair that WAS lacking all traces of frizz.
Hot leather seats on bare thighs. Why can't they have butt COOLERS in addition to butt warmers in those things?
People who absolutely REFUSE to response to IM's, emails, & texts... but are then upset because you never call (even though you TRIED calling but they won't answer their damn phone!).
Ummm, today? People in general.
Watching someone make stupid, stupid choices with their life and there's not a damn thing I can possibly say or do to stop it...
Holiday plans changing without my input, causing me to have to disappoint other people. Somehow.
Figuring out how to disappoint other people.
Dirty Dishes... with FOOD stuck to them... lounging in my sink.
Soggy Cheerios in the drain.

And now I'm cutting this short because I just got one of those "I'm driving around because I'm so damn angry" calls from Wahoo. This calls for a coffee night. TTFN.

Evolution?

2008-08-30T10:54:00.003-05:00

I stayed up until 2am (poker night) and slept until 10:30am... and I should be as happy as a pig in mud. I feel like crap instead. Apparently, this getting up early is getting to me. And I kinda-sorta MISS it this morning. I feel like half the day has gone by and I have nothing to show for it except a rumpled bed.

Aliens have taken over my body. I feel like a traitor to my normal night-loving self. This is SO not me. Gah! Or maybe I'm slowly evolving into a morning person. (I just gagged a little after typing that)

Honest-to-goodness, there is NOTHING else going on right now. Last night, Shaggy asked if it was okay to have a friend stay the night. "Absolutely, no problem," I told him. A few hours later, he asked if it was okay that another friend came with that friend. I shrugged... not really a big deal. I was away getting my hair cut when Mr. Clean called to let me know he was picking up C-Boy's kiddo on his way home. That makes three. I got home and found out ANOTHER boy was coming with the original two but it was, "OKAY because you haven't seen him since before summer, Mom!" Oh yeah, we ended up with FIVE sixteen-year-olds in the house last night. Woo hoo, fun!

The school year has now OFFICIALLY started and it's time for me to stock up on the junk food.

I've got nothing else for now. Why yes, my life is monotonous and repetitive. And I'm distracted. There is plotting going on in my head as I type this so nothing of consequence is coming out for blogging. Sorry, folks. It happens.

Random Tidbits of Nonsense

2008-08-26T17:46:00.006-05:00

I'm two days into school and am seriously questioning my judgment in slamming back a cold double-shot espresso each morning (first thing) and then drinking another coffee on top of that later (when the inevitable crash hits around 10am). I'm all shaky and my body is telling me, "No, no, NO... please stop this."

Except how else am I supposed to wake up? (And even then, it's not doing so great. I had to take a NAP today. At Noon. Ridiculous.)

All that to say, my brain is a little on the fuzzy-crazy side at the moment so I'm having a hard time stringing whole thoughts together. Thus, we're going to have a Random Tidbit Day!

RT #1 - I am SO very annoyed at the guys in Georgia who held a press conference (complete with nifty pictures), stating that they had - Oh Yes, Indeedy! - found a body of BIGFOOT. Because FIRST, they showed this great looking Bigfoot body, which then had Cousin Bubbles calling me to say, "Hey... guess you're NOT nuts." But then it turns out the "body" is a RUBBER SUIT and they are Big Fat Liars. So now... I am NUTS again?

RT #2 - I think GE or LG or Whirlpool need to invent a new refrigerator a'la The Jetsons. This new fridge would absolutely REFUSE to provide anything other than raw veggies or fruit after 8PM. No matter what. No whining or keypad-hitting or begging could induce this new fridge into opening anything other than the fruit & vegetable drawer. Oh, and it would not allow you to hide goodies in the fruit & veggie drawer, either. Just sayin'.

RT #3 - I still need doggy Valium. Or maybe people Valium... though if I took Valium on top of my morning double-shot... WHOO BOY would that be a mistake.

RT #4 - I am Crazy Plotting again. Why yes, I did plot an entire book a little while back. And then I decided I wasn't so excited about it. Boooring. So. I kicked those folks out and am now interviewing new tennants for the empty rooms in my brain. A couple of people I'm slightly familiar with showed up, reminding me of something I'd put down last year. I'm entertaining them for dinner tonight to see how we get on. So far, so good.

RT #5 - Okay, BabySis is leaving on Sept. 9th for Prague. I'll make her check in and give me a Cute Slovenian Guy update as soon as she has one to give.

RT #6 - I have just now decided that I am NOT making dinner tonight (for really real dinner, not the one I'm having with people in my head - there is a difference). I am, however, going to bake some Snickerdoodle cookies. Heh.

That's all I've got. See you soon!

Got Valium?

2008-08-25T07:49:00.003-05:00

It's the first day of school! Yippee!! I had to drink a Starbucks Double Shot Espresso to wake up this morning, at the buttcrack of dawn, while the sun was still snoring (something I deeply resent). I think I got MAYBE five hours of sleep last night. Lordy. I'd forgotten this part.

My "No Kids!" happy dance lasted all of twenty minutes. Then I realized I'm stuck - for the next EIGHT HOURS - with a demented ADHD Chocolate Labrador, who is recovering from being neutered, and who is supposed to stay STILL. No running, jumping, playing, or aggravating the evil cat (who will then cause him to flail and fall all over himself in the getting away from her).

I have said, "LAY DOWN!" at least 80 times in the last half hour. I'm answered with Booby Licks. (Why does he have to lick my CLEAVAGE????)

SOMEONE here needs some Valium. I'm not saying who just yet.

Double Dog Dare Ya

2008-08-22T10:41:00.003-05:00

Have you ever seen someone - in person, on tv, crossing the street, or just passing you in the car - and you have a gut reaction to them? A nice one? One that says, "You should meet that person, FOR SURE." ????

I do. All the time. Except instead of my gut choosing for ME to meet all of these interesting people I see, it chooses for OTHER people to be the meeters.

Example: A week or so ago, I saw a VERY nice-looking guy on TV. Yes... TV, a documentary of sorts. There was nothing particularly outlandish or X-Factor-ish about him. As a matter of fact, over the hour of the show he was on for maybe 10 minutes total. But those ten minutes managed to insinuate themselves into a full-blown gut-deep uber-weird HUNCH. Immediately, I knew... seriously KNEW... that my baby sister HAD TO MEET THIS GUY. It's destined. It's Fate. She really, really HAS to meet this guy. Really.

Oh, did I mention that he lives in SLOVENIA???

Before you shake your head and think I'm a total freak, I should probably mention that it's so Interestingly Coincidental that BabySis just HAPPENS to be traveling to Prague in just a week. Slovenia? Like Right Next Door to Prague. A simple short train ride away, to a location where a grand photographic castle resides. BabySis happens to be a photography major and a sucker for castles. This guy? Castle. Manager.

I called BabySis:
Me: OMG, I just saw this guy on the TV and you have to go meet him.
BabySis: What? Who?
Me: I don't know... I'm looking him up on the 'net right now, to make sure he's not a serial killer. I'll send you his pic.
BabySis: *nervous laughter* -- Ooooooooh-kay.
Me: I'm not crazy! I had one of those hunches. You have to meet him. Seriously!!
BabySis: Where does he live?
Me: Slovenia
BabySis: *crickets chirping*
Me: It's like SO CLOSE to Prague. You have to go. And there's a really cool castle!
BabySis: What does that have to do with this guy you think I have to meet?
Me: He's the manager of the castle that you will die to photograph.
BabySis: Oooooooh-kay.
Me: Oh! Oh! I found a video of the show I was watching on YouTube. Just sent it!
BabySis: *goes away to watch*
BabySis: He's cute.
Me: And Slovenic or... is that what you call it? Whatever. He's not wearing a wedding ring. And he's sexy-hot in that Eastern European way. And I just KNOW you HAVE to meet him. Trust me. This is IMPORTANT.
BabySis: You really, really think so? Like you KNOW so?
Me: Yes. Positively Absolutely YES.
Me: You have to ASK for him, though. You have to go to the castle and say, "I was told to ask for Sexy-Hot Slovenian."
BabySis: What if they ask me who told me to ask for him?
Me: You shrug and smile. And if pressed, just sort of point down toward the village below the castle.
BabySis: You're strange.
Me: I know. But how often am I totally RIGHT?
BabySis: *shrugging* (because I know she did, she does that) -- Okay, I'll do it. We (she's going with a girlfriend) can take the train down there.

So there. I may be weird with my hunches and my making people meet each other. And I know how very, very ODD the whole thing sounds. But not as odd as this... She's going to do it. She's going to go to that castle and meet him. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Shark Bait

2008-08-20T23:56:00.001-05:00

Y'all, I seriously feel like Alice's white rabbit. It's all I can do to clamp my lips shut as opposed to running around screeching about what I'm late for and what I've forgotten to do this time. And in the midst of it all, my grey matter is set on hyper-drive... not with big, important things but with little insignificant snatches of thought. I swear there must be a little IMP in my head who's bent on destruction. Right now, he's scanning my inner card catalog and then flinging each entry through the air. Impetuous little snot.

So this weekend... the idea was to go sailing, taking C-Boy and his kiddo along for the ride. We headed out first thing Saturday morning and then promptly hit the biggest rain storm EVER. It followed us all the way to my Dad's house, where we arrived looking like a group of drowned rats.

And then it continued to rain. And rain. And rain. Finally, it stopped, just in time for us to get ready for an engagement party we were to attend. FUN! I spent 30 minutes torturing my hair into place with all manner of instruments and frizz control... and then sighed VERY dramatically when my long, hate-filled locks reverted right back to where they'd been before (this happening LITERALLY as we knocked on the front door of our party destination).

Party was fun. But crowded. The kitchen itself was so packed, my slightly agoraphobic self couldn't manage to eat more than a deviled egg and a tiny square of cheese - these both being located on the kitchen bar where I could snatch and run to less crowded areas.

After returning back to Dad's house, we all sat down and played games until 2am, while secretly praying to the Wind gods for SOMETHING to push the boat along the next day. They didn't so much as answer our prayers as provide a small concession...

We had a nice bright, sunny day with a LITTLE wind, just enough to push us along at a few knots. Not enough to make it necessary to take the boat off auto-pilot. (yes! My Dad's new boat has a freaking AUTO-PILOT switch... go figure!)

When you're hanging out in a boat in calm winds... it's nice... but one starts looking for bigger entertainment. So we threw the oldest boys out of the boat and told them to watch out for sharks…

And then my Dad may have indulged his sick sense of humor… by telling them we were going to dump the holding tank…

And we may have powered up the motor a bit and laughed when they lost their hold of the ropes & buoys we gave them…

I had videos for these but Blogger is a giant POOP and despite attempting to upload them from 8pm until NOW… it refuses to cooperate. And I’m tired of trying. So. No videos.

Also? Guess what? No pictures, either. Because now that Blogger seems to be cooperating enough to let me POST, my satellite connection is now going a bit wonky. I can’t win for losing tonight.

Sufficed to say, I didn’t get as many pictures or video as I’d wanted to because a rather large squall blew in while we were out there, causing us to have to skeedaddle back to the marina pretty quickly.

And I think I’m done with this post now because between this frustration and some heavy-duty PMS, I can’t win for losing tonight.

Pulling It Together

2008-08-18T18:52:00.002-05:00

I know... I know... I've dropped off the face of the earth again and have left my poor blog EMPTY. We had a wild weekend of sailing and I'm pulling together pictures and video, so hopefully I'll have something new up this evening or tomorrow.

Right now, I SERIOUSLY have to get dinner under control and Mr. Clean just pulled up in the driveway with a carload of groceries.

Later! Seriously. I mean it. (stop making that face)

Why Couldn't They Just Be Bookworms?

2008-08-10T13:11:00.004-05:00

I'm officially TIRED of summer, y'all. I was doing okay there for a while, for someone who absolutely detests the arrival of bees (read: anything that stings) and can't stand temperatures over 85 degrees. Then it hit a regular 96-100 degrees Every. Stinking. Day. And my hair wilted. And my skin roasted. But!! Yesterday? I received a batch of letters addressd: To the parents of....

Hallelujah, school is about to start! I can't describe how excited I am. School means quiet work days, and - eventually - cooler weather. It means busy spawnlings who do not say, "I'm bored" fifty times a day. It means homework hour -- SO QUIET. And it means earlier bedtimes. Yay!

Of course, first I have to pry my oldest son off the sailboats and drag him back home. He's been staying with my Dad on and off for the last two months - coming home for a few days here and there in between. He called me yesterday:

Shaggy: I just got back from the Laser Regatta
Me: Cool! How'd you do?
Shaggy: Oh, I DNF'd.
Me: DNF'd?
Shaggy: Yeah, Did. Not. Finish.
Me: What happened? How did you not finish?
Shaggy: Well, I tacked just before I reached the start line and then the wind... (blah blah blah) and the sail wrapped.... (blah blah blah) and then I went over.
Me: You flipped the boat again?
Shaggy: Yeah, that's what I was saying. Except when I hopped over the side to land on the daggerboard to flip her back up, it wasn't there. It had fallen out!
Me: You broke the boat?
Shaggy: Nooooo. Just listen! It comes out, Mom. So then... (blah blah blah blah - long drawn out description of nonsense) .... stuck in the mud and they had to send a boat to pull me out.
Me: That's it?
Shaggy: Yeah.
Me: So you didn't even START the race?
Shaggy: Yeah. But it was just a fun race, no big deal. And I had a blast sailing around for like two hours before it started.
Me: Ohhh, okay.
Shaggy: Papa Steve and I are renting two Lasers tomorrow; we're going to race each other.
Me: What? I thought we were picking you up tomorrow.
Shaggy: Nahh. I'm staying another week, I think. The instructor over here thinks I'm really good and wants to sail with me some more. He also wants me to enter a regatta next weekend.
Me: Oh, that's cool. Where is it at?
Shaggy: Palacios.
Me: **choking on my coffee** That's like four hours away! Or more!
Shaggy: Yeah, I thought it might be too far so I'm talking Papa Steve into taking me.
Me: Should I be expecting adoption papers soon? Are you EVER coming back home?
Shaggy: Awww Mom, you know I love you more than sailing. What are you going to do when I decide to sail around the world like Zac?
Me: Shoot myself.
Shaggy: WHY?
Me: You just admitted that you were in a boat race that you did not finish because you flipped the boat before you could even start. And you had to be rescued.
Shaggy: ** laughing ** Yeah, I'm really liking the life-vests now.
Me: I'm hanging up.

Y'all my Dad is in HEAVEN. He finally has the little sailor boy he always wanted, a kid who's perfectly happy hanging out on the boat all day long, every day. Apparently, he even does nasty boat chores with a smile on his face. *sigh* If only he'd apply that sort of fervor to vacuuming his room.

And if you're wondering what this Laser racing looks like... and aforementioned wipeout? Check this out:

As you can see, that whole flipping thing is actually quite common. <--- trying to convince myself.

Okay, then. I'm off to plan the kidnapping of my son, you know... so I can get him back home again in time for school to start. Thank goodness the little one just wants to play baseball.

Edited to add: Mr. Clean just informed me that Doodlebug has decided he really, really wants to take up FENCING instead of another year in baseball. Sweet bleeding jalepeno! Do you KNOW how much that COSTS? (and how suprised am I that the wee one wants to take up a sport his Dad was in for years?) I'm off to go find a second job now.

A Mighty Wind

2008-08-05T19:28:00.002-05:00

... didn't blow.

Dear Mr. Newscaster -

Last night, I watched your show and listened to your every word. You said Big Wind, Big Rain. Because of you, I tramped all around my house last night - at MIDNIGHT - and removed all of my fifty-bajillion wind chimes. I flipped over my patio furniture, you know, so it wouldn't blow away. I even took pains to protect some of my plants.

This morning, I let a large, wet PUPPY into my house. Wet, not because of rain, but because he decided to get a head start and play in his water bowl (and yeah, that's neither here nor there, except I let him in, in anticipation of him getting MORE wet by all that wind/rain you talked about).

Lo and behold, however... I have YET to see any wind. Okay, I'll give you rain but BIG rain? Unless you really MEANT to say steady-to-drizzle-to-steady-to-drizzle rain... all day long... I'm calling Bullshit.

While I'm at it... I'm calling the whole Eduardo being a tropical storm, bullshit. When the news increases from 30 minutes to 1 hour, the expectation is that we'll see something along the lines of Allison. THAT was a tropical storm worthy of news, worthy of the words, "Big Wind, Big Rain". Eduardo? Serious. Disappointment.

I'm off now to go put ALL my damn wind chimes BACK up. Thanks, Mr. Newscaster. Thanks a bunch.

Signed,

Annoyed (but pleasantly happy about the drought relief)

It ordered Purina One, with a side of Rose Hips

2008-08-02T12:12:00.004-05:00

I feel like my brain is trying to crawl out behind my eyeball. The left one. It hurts. And in other news...

Yeah, there's no news here. I have absolutely nothing to write about. I plotted a new book and by "plot," I mean I wrote a short & dirty numbered list of what happens. The end. I'm trying to figure out now if I really want to write this one or not. I mean, it's good, but it's not blowing my socks off or anything.

I wonder how often this happens to other people. Or if I'm broken in some way.

Oh, I do have news. A short little tidbit of a story, really. The other night --eh, 2am-ish -- I was just shutting everything down to go to bed when I heard a righteous crash on my front porch. Considering what happened previously, I ran to the door and made sure it was locked. It was. So then I finally convinced myself to look out the window (because I STILL have issues with this at night), saw Moose's food bowl tilted over, and then spied...

... a freaking BIG-ASS DEER running around my driveway.

Yes folks, we had a deer ON our porch eating dog food and, most likely, the sound of me walking around and shutting everything off spooked it. Now some are going to think this is funny. I'm not so much with the humor here, and I'll tell you why:

1) We are in a bit of a drought here but not so much the deer should be scamming on my rosebushes and now dog food. This, along with visual confirmation leads me to believe,

2) We have TOO MANY deer in our current population. That would be due to,

3) not having hunted in a few years now, PLUS, a lot of bulldozing on lands surrounding us - interfering with their habitat. We still have quite a bit of untouched land, as does C-Boy behind us... so they've moved in.

4) We have not hunted, in part, because of the bulldozed land having opened things up around us too much to safely shoot a bullet. AND Mr. Clean has not bothered with his bow. Why?

5) Because those darn deer let us walk up within about 10 feet of them. They've made friends with the diva horse and regularly share pasture with her as though they are a herd of cows.

Here's the real problem... When you get a large population of deer in a small area, there is a very REAL chance of disease. It's just like people... pack them in and someone is bound to get sick, which then spreads to everyone else. Additionally, they can carry Lyme disease due to the deer ticks. And then there's the whole deforestation going on, from their eating habits. All that grows is what they can't eat (and while those plants are usually native to the environment, they previously only constituted a small percentage of what grew). Lastly, when you get that many in an area near a major road, the incidences of them running out into traffic greatly increase. (I can't tell you how many times in the past year, I've come very, VERY close to hitting one on the way home... not at night... at 4pm or 2pm or 8pm.)

On the flip side, how do you hunt something that lets you walk up to it? Conundrum. Because, you know what? Venison is GOOD. Free meat is ESPECIALLY good, given the current cost of feeding a family.

So. Unfortunately, I think we're going to have to hunt this year.

Where Was I Again?

2008-07-28T19:43:00.003-05:00

I get SO distracted, y’all! It’s like living in a world full of bright, shiny objects… and then I overload, crash… CAPUT. I’m down for the count all twitchy and discombobulated, the computer the last thing I want to even look at.

Well there’s that and the fact that Mr. Clean got all sneaky-peeky and found a new game (Acropolis), which I’d downloaded to play. I could NOT get the man off my computer all weekend long. Seriously. I had to crawl up on the desk in front of him, blocking his view, just to get him to come to bed every night!

Lots of little things today --- things I’m catching up on, tidbits, fragments, tiny morsels of my brain-matter:

1) I don’t know exactly when but Deb asked me about Tivo not too long ago and I’m not sure I ever answered about that. See… I want Tivo. I REALLY want Tivo. I have Dreams about Tivo. BUT. I live in the country and my in-laws have a house on our land, and they’re retired. So when we hooked up the satellite, we sort-of, kind-of CHEATED and ran the line that should be in our bedroom to their house instead. Mr. Clean also CLAIMS he talked to the sat company and came back with all this bruha about how we’d have to get an upgraded dish and blah, blah, blah… trouble, trouble, money, etc.

I don’t exactly know if I believe him (because sometimes he comes up with STORIES instead of outright saying, “I don’t want to add anything to our current satellite bill.” Then again, I mention it CONSTANTLY… to the point that if he could get it out here, he probably would, if just to Shut Me Up. So there’s that. No Tivo. Yet. Bummer, yes?

2) I may have mentioned previously that I have this cat, who is psychotic. She eats people. Really. She loves on strangers’ legs and then when they reach down to pet her, she eats their hands off. We really need a sign on our front door, stating, “Do not pet the cat. No matter how cute she tries to look. She is not cute. She is psycho. Also? She is HUNGRY and on a diet so human flesh looks really, really good to her!”

This is a Take-No-Bullshit-From-Anyone cat, seriously, not a feline to mess with. She holds grudges, stalks people for months until she’s convinced they are suitably chastised for… choose one or more or all: making faces at her, making noises at her, messing with her after being told not to, and just generally getting in her way.

Therefore, imagine my surprise when I looked outside to see her lying in the sun with not one but TWO Mockingbirds dive-bombing her. And what was she doing in response (as they were most definitely making contact)?? Not a DAMN thing. She just lay there… didn’t even look at them.

Conclusion: She is either a seriously deranged masochist on top of being psychotically inclined or she is plotting something decidedly nefarious for those little birds’ futures.

In the meantime, I’m trying to catch it all on video, because it happens DAILY now.

3) I will go out and buy that cat a freaking TIARA and plush, plush super-cat apartment if she will please KILL one ore both of those Mockingbirds. I am not normally a violent person and I LOVE nature but y’all…. I want these birds DEAD, DEAD, DEAD.

For an entire WEEK now, I have had to use earplugs at night because one or both of them are sitting just outside my bedroom window, chirping -- in fifty different bird languages, one after another, after another, after another… then REPEAT – All. Freaking. Night. Long!

Even better? One of their little birdie interpretations is a high-pitched whistle that’s repeated at a higher pitch, and then a higher one, and then one that breaks glass, makes my eyeballs pop out, and generally Melts My Brain. It seems to be their favorite sound.

And if Schatzi-cat doesn’t kill them SOON? I am buying a BB gun. They are seriously screwing with my sleep – not to mention the fact that I cannot hear my alarm while using earplugs in so I’ve woken up late every single day since they started their weeklong 11pm – 6am Concerto of Infuriation. The birds must go away or DIE.

P.s. I suspect that it’s very possible this is the cat’s entire fault; that the birds have taken up residence with their noise pollution in order to call her out due to her inconsiderate lack of reaction to their physical pestering. The moment I get any further inkling that this COULD be true, she’s outta the house until they are Gone, Gone, Gone.

4) I spent almost the entire day, Saturday, PLOTTING a new book. BabySis came out to the house for the weekend, went and ate tacos with me, and then sat at the coffee shop for three hours while I tried to make my way through the tangled web of possible plotlines. And in case I don’t say it enough: My BabySis ROCKS. She’s an absolutely fantastic bouncy board of feedback – because I plot much better out loud than in the disorganized MESS that is my brain. Now, while I readily admit this development is not great for keeping up with the blogging… it is BLESSEDLY good for ~~my mental sanity~~ me.

Also? That’s probably all you’re really going to hear about it until I have something substantial because it seems the more I talk about writing, the less writing I actually get done.

5) I had a #5. I know I had one more item. I don’t know what happened to it. C-Boy just came by and dinner had to be cooked and... surprise! I got distracted. It’s gone now.

Staying Connected

2008-07-22T11:09:00.003-05:00

Do not fear! I've not fallen into the deep pit of non-blogging again. I just had a raging good weekend and then needed yesterday to recover.

Having the entire house to myself was a new experience (well new this year, since this happens every year) and one that included:

Staying up until well past 4am because there were NOISES outside and no one INSIDE to check them out.
Trying to sleep facing the doorway, with one eye open, because I was CONVINCED someone was in my house at various points throughout both nights (mornings).
Dealing with a ceiling fan that decided to quit on me, leaving my kitchen marginally more than warm.

It was great. A friend of mine came over Saturday evening and brought dinner from Palotta's (Chicken Marsala, YUM!). We popped open a bottle of wine C-Boy had given me for my birthday and tucked in. Oh boy, did we tuck in. Then, we drank a little and talked a lot. C-Boy came by around midnight and we all stayed up until well past three in the morning, talking and laughing. It was fun.

Sunday, I slept in - much to the disgruntlement of my horse (Feed me!) and Shaggy's dog (I. Need. To. Go. Outside!). Mr. Clean arrived home late Sunday afternoon with the following:

A LOT of dirty, stinky clothes
A new ceiling fan for my kitchen
COFFEE
One 10-year-old child who completely and utterly FAILED to receive diligent application of sunscreen, now referred to as Lobster Boy.

I was maybe a tiny bit livid about the red child. I mean, Seriously? How freaking hard is it to remember sunscreen Every Time he's in the sun?? Ridiculous. I'm still applying different aloes and facial creams every time I lay eyes on the child, at which point he does the shoulder-dropping "Aww Man" routine. He's about sick of me chasing him through the house with Aloe Vera and Oil of Olay.

I do believe the coffee may have been an attempt to draw my attention away from the Lobster Boy. It didn't work.

In other news:

One of my uncles (on the let's-go-on-a-family-cruise side of the family) contacted me yesterday with an invite to join up on Vox. I think the idea is to create a family "neighborhood" where everyone can blog and share pictures and stay in better touch between family reunions and Thanksgiving holidays. Good idea! Except...

Sweet Bleeding Jalepeno... how many freaking "connection" places are there on the web?

I have this blog, you know, where I BLOG. And really? I need to get off Blogger because it annoys me. Greatly. But to do that, I need to get a web host... blah blah blah. The only thing holding me back is my procrastination. And the deep, intense muscle cramps I get in my neck and shoulders every time I think about having to come up with a design.

Now, on top of the blog, I have a MySpace. Because everyone has a MySpace. Because Shaggy has a MySpace and I wanted to ~~see what he's doing online~~ stay connected. MySpace is great.

Then, Cousin Neesie sends me a Facebook invite. I'd created a Facebook account some time ago because BabySis was on there (as well as a couple of other folks) but I never use it because... I. Don't. Like. The. Facebook. For some reason, it just ANNOYS me. There's all this poking going on and yeah, not really for me but I stay there because... Okay. I don't know why I stay there.

I also have a Classmates account, because who doesn't? I don't really use it all that much but some of my old classmates are apparently not HIP enough to get blogs or MySpace or Facebook accounts. So I keep the Classmates.

My younger middle sister, Pixie, wants me to get Skype and a web cam. So we can chat while I am in my jammies and my hair looks like a red medusa. I realize Skype is free. The web cam is not, however, and I have yet to get to Best Buy to purchase one. There's a very slight chance this might be related to my not really wanting to be seen in my jammies with red medusa hair.

And now Vox. Well, of course, I had to get the Vox account. It's family. And if they're all going to do it... then I'll feel guilty if I don't. "But I'm not blogging on here," I told my uncle. And then I said, "Okay, well maybe just little stuff. But not much! Because I don't have time."

To top it off, my friend who came over this weekend? She wants to start a podcast. The idea surrounding it is GOOD. But seriously? How am I going to find the time to do this? Is it any wonder I can't finish a book due to distractions (which I ALLOW to happen way too frequently)?

I always thought I had a good, solid, "NO." I'm finding out that perhaps it doesn't carry the weight it should. Or perhaps I need to find a way to get rid of the GUILT that goes along with saying, "No."

At what point do you say Enough Is Enough with the staying connected? When do you tell people, "Hey, if you really want to talk to me... here's where I am and here's where I'm staying?"

Girly Weekend

2008-07-19T12:39:00.006-05:00

That little run of silence there, that was me working very hard... to find work. My job runs from oh-my-God-I'll-never-get-this-all-done to holy-crap-can-I-just-find-SOMETHING-to-do like one of those roller coasters with so much g-force your picture shows your tonsils. This week was S-L-O-W and slow periods make it difficult to get my hours and sometimes that means I have to work a little on the weekend. I did NOT want to work over the weekend, because...

I AM ALONE IN THE HOUSE!

That's right. This weekend is my Dad's Annual Boys Only Sail Weekend. Woo hooo, no girls allowed.

Thursday morning, I woke to the muffled voice of my DAD standing in my bedroom doorway, yelling, "You're still sleeping?" Ye, gods! It was only 8am! I'd just gone to bed at 3:30am and couldn't sleep through Mr. Clean's snores, so was sporting a pair of squashy purple earplugs I'd inserted at 4am. Plus my lovely "mouthpiece" that keeps me from cracking my teeth while I sleep. Of course, the only thing my brain was rattling off at the moment I peered through sleep-crusted eyes and saw my Dad was, "Holy Shit I'm glad I'm not sleeping NEKKID."

Because I usually do. Only I'd gotten a little cold so had put on a nightie. Thank. God. (of course, my Dad did see my adult nekkid buttocks while I was pacing in the delivery room, in labor with Doodlebug. But STILL.)

I must digress for a moment: I talk a lot about parental revenge on here and it's been rearing its ugly head a LOT over the last month or so. I'm convinced I'm speaking English but all of the occupants in this house are only hearing Japanese. And therefore don't listen to me. So when I told the boys to clean their bathroom before they left with Dad, they... of course... ignored me. Big. Mistake. Daddy jumped on those boys like a starving flea on a dirty hound dog and stayed right over their shoulders until that bathroom looked like the pearly gates to Heaven. I'm now out of bathroom cleaners. All of them. The boys were miserable. (hee!) I was trying my best not to skip around the house singing show tunes. Sometimes grandparental meddling pays off. Digression over.

So. I had all of Thursday by myself in the house to get work done. And then Mr. Clean was nice enough to take me out to dinner, where I fell asleep in my salad because I'd been running on four hours all day. I don't do well on four hours. Five? Absolutely. Less than five? No freaking way.

Friday, Mr. Clean had the day off. He spent most of it working in the rose gardens, which had began to resemble the outer ring at Sleeping Beauty's castle. I worked. And then I put on my girly pink flip-flops and left to get my hair done - because no alone weekend starts off right without a fresh hair cut!

Those pink flip-flops, aren't they cute? Excuse the feet, though. I am totally incapable of sitting in my office chair correctly. Therefore, I sit with one of my feet beneath me and when it falls asleep, I switch to the other... repeating for eight hours. That's why the piggies on my left foot look three times the size of those on my right. And my stupid ankle is swollen. Because I cannot sit properly.

Anyhoooo. Last night, I returned from the salon with a nice nutritional dinner - a venti iced latte and a slice of pumpkin bread. Oh yeah, nectar of the gods! And then I told Mr. Clean to please quit calling me because, hello, no girls allowed... and that includes phone calls!

While they were fishing until midnight, I was watching The Other Boleyn Girl. While they were duking it out for sleeping space either in a yacht club cabana or on the boat itself, along with my grandfather, uncle, a cousin-in-law, and three more 2nd cousins, I was hogging the exact CENTER of my king-sized bed. Heh. I truly hope they're having a blast.

Of course, today.... well, now I don't know what to do with myself.

And I'm bored.

Wahoo is out doing a rodeo this weekend and may or may not be back tonight. C-Boy has his boy this weekend and I'm doing the kid-free thing. I may go do coffee tonight (either here or at the coffee shop) with another friend, but haven't heard anything yet. So. For now, I'm blogging. And then I may write some new snippets I have floating around in my head.

But first, I need lunch. Because I have not had breakfast. And I am starving. Apparently, I don't remember to cook when other people aren't here.

I Dare You To Interpret This

2008-07-16T08:00:00.002-05:00

Have you ever had one of those Hot Guy dreams where the guy is no one you know? As in, no known actor and no one you've ever in your life seen before?

I have those all the time and they bug the crap out of me...

... because, Hello Mr. Yummy! Except I can only see him between the hours of 2am and 9am. If my brain feels like providing that particular image.

... because I feel like I need to PLACE the guy somewhere in my conscious memory... And I Can't!

It's not fair. And the dreams themselves never make much sense. Case in point:

Last night I dreamt I was in a ginormous indoor/outdoor mall. In the middle of a long and wide walking area are a bunch of seating areas. Basically, they are raised squares of lattice covered in honeysuckle and flanked by concrete benches. I don't see any stores, though, just long, long endless covered walking area full of lattice, honeysuckle, and benches. There's a warm breeze and sunlight.

And a strange guy in sunglasses zipping around on a forklift claiming aliens are after him. (that's neither here nor there, though... and I suspect it might say something rather psycho about me so I'm putting it aside for the moment)

So. I'm stomping my way to an apartment upstairs (because, in my dreams, there are apartments above shopping malls) and there's this hot guy following me. He keeps asking me to "stop" and "slow down, already" but I'm ignoring him.

I get upstairs and he follows me, his hands out in supplication, as though he's done something wrong. And I'm SO angry. I stomp into the kitchen and start opening and slamming cabinet doors, looking for something. Hot Guy keeps telling me to "just calm down."

I turn around and start screeching at him because, "AGAIN, we are out of my favorite coffee!" and "Who the hell is stealing my good coffee?"

Hot Guy gets all upset - like really upset - as in, he's on his knees and hugging me around the middle... because - get this - he thinks I love coffee more than having sex with him! I pat him on the head and tell him he is SO wrong because, DUDE, he's mind-blowing in the sack.

So he says, "Well, let's go then. I want you so badly."

And I say, "Okay... but can I have a cup of coffee first?"

I'm SO messed up in the head.

Does This Make Me A Bad Mom?

2008-07-15T17:00:00.000-05:00

At the beginning of the summer, Shaggy got himself a job with Wahoo's husband at a construction company - commercial, not residential. They paid him $9.00/hour. The kid made out like a bandit, for all that it required he get up at four o'clock in the morning... the flip-side being that he was home every day by four-thirty in the afternoon AND had weekends off. Bugger.

Yesterday morning he was laid off.

We knew this would be coming because the next job was at a hospital and, apparently, you have to be 18 years old to work within a hospital environment. Whatever. It was a little sooner than expected.

A few of the blessings involved with Shaggy's job:

I only had Doodlebug at home and besides the occasional whining when I refused to reveal where I'd hidden the TV remote, he was relatively quiet and entertained himself.
Shaggy was too tired between the hours of 4:00pm - 10:00pm to argue or really be anything teenager-like.
Shaggy went to bed EVERY night by 10:00pm -- which meant Mr. Clean and I were able to watch the news and/or a movie without constant comments and/or questions. (aside: Shaggy is VERY political for a 16-year-old. He makes A LOT of comments during the news. It's also statistically IMPOSSIBLE for him to watch a movie without asking a question about what just happened or what's going to happen... as though he's a) completely deaf, or b) figures I really AM psychic and always know what will happen next even though I Have Never Seeen It Before!)

Yesterday was the first day he's been home all summer. Even through my YeeHaw-What-A-Great-Monday excitement, my work was interrupted no less than half a dozen times by:

Random questions, which made no sense.
Minor pouting because the desktop computer is next to my laptop computer - therefore, while I am working, I can read blogs. Unfortunately, this means no one else gets to use the desktop computer while I am "at work".
Slightly more than minor pouting because Shaggy no longer has Internet in his room.

And then, Thank The Lord, the boy LEFT the house to hang out with a friend. He arrived back home around 9pm. Ten o'clock rolled around and ummm, there he was. Talking. Talking OVER the news. Eleven o'clock rolled around and yep, still there. Still talking. He decided that RIGHT THEN would be a great time to start a rather loud political discussion with Mr. Clean and then make a blind turn into "I hate my computer. My computer stinks. I need to buy a new computer."

I'll admit it. I cracked. I missed like the FOURTH punchline on whatever it was I was watching (I don't even recall now, I got so angry). My head popped off and bounced across the room. It screamed like a banshee as it rolled to a stop and then my eyes turned green, my hair turned into snakes, and now I have a nice stone statue of a teenager in my living room.

I made him go look for a job today. I can't do this. He's driving me batshit crazy.

He put in applications at Double Dave's Pizza and Starbucks. I figure at the least I should get a free slice or a coffee. Ya know? At best, I'll enjoy a little peace and quiet.

Still, I'm rather close to calling Scare Tactics and begging them to dress like aliens in order to scare the ever-loving bejeezus out of the boy. After he's done peeing his pants and putting his heart back into his chest... once he realizes it was all a staged setup by his own dear, sweet mother... an all-encompassing bout of anger will fill his skinny little body. And then? Then, I'm going to say, "THAT'S what it feels like when you break into the ONE bit of peace I have left each day".

Books...

2008-07-15T00:56:00.006-05:00

... because working my way back into blogging regularly is hard. And this is easy. Though, I warn you now, I don't follow the rules very well. *shrug*

When I was perusing Bleeding Espresso (OMG, I still love, love, love her blog name) yesterday, I found a neat little Book Meme and I like books... and I like the Meme thing... so why not, ya know?

Now, I mentioned rules except there aren't really any. It's just that the questions state ONE book and umm, I have indecisive-itis. If you ask me chocolate or strawberry ice cream, I'll shift from one foot to the other for a minute... and then go batshit crazy because I Just. Can't. Decide. And can I please have both? So. Some of the questions might not be answered appropriately and, honestly? I don't care.

Here we go, then:

1. One book that changed your life: It's hard to condense this one down to a singular book but I can name a singular author: Judy Blume. What girl didn't find some life-altering words in one of Judy Blume's books? Book-wise, it's a very close toss-up between Are You There God, It's Me, Margaret and Forever. I kind of wish I'd read Forever a little more closely.

2. One book you've read more than twice: I've read a BUNCH of books more than twice and since one of them I'll be mentioning in another question, I'll say: Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone. Before I read each new book, I have to go back and re-read the entire series up to that point. Which means I read this one like 6 times.

3. One book you'd want on a desert island (I think they mean deserted because on a desert island, I don't want a book. I want WATER): Okay, I'm not choosing ONE book but I am choosing one SERIES of books. They're all by the same author and it's my game so I'm playing it how I want to. If someone told me, "No, you can only take one book," I'd answer, "Ummm, no, I'm going to a deserted island so I think I can take as many books as I can carry." And if they said, "No, ma'am (because in my world, annoying people call me ma'am), really... you can only take one book," I'd clock them upside the head and then run... with as many books as I could carry - specifically, the entire Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. Because who could EVER get tired of reading those giant tomes of yumminess? Not me, that's for sure.

An aside -- I currently have my teenager, Shaggy, reading Outlander. I LOVE it. He keeps telling me where he's at and asks questions about what's next, to which I reply, "Hehehehe... you'll see."

4. One book that made you laugh: LOTS of books have made me laugh but when I read this question, I get the idea it wants the almost-peed-in-your-pants laughed. And there was one. But I can't remember WHICH one it was! Specifically. I think it was a paranormal chick-lit-y kind of book. Maybe? *rolling eyes* This is HARD. I do remember laughing VERY hard at certain parts of gods in Alabama, by Joshilyn Jackson, though. And it was probably very close to pee-your-pants laughing because that woman? She's got THE FUNNY. Her blog is a daily read here and I can't tell you how many times she's saved me from snatching myself bald with her random bits of M&M chocolatey goodness humor.

5. One book that made you cry: The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold. I boo-hoo'd like a child who'd lost her blankie while reading that one. Just let loose. I don't remember a specific part of it or anything but it was towards the end and I... Lordy... that book had me bawling. It's the death thing, I think. I just read another looking-down-from-heaven book, called Elsewhere, by Gabrielle Zevin and I lost it on that one, too. I should not be allowed to read any more books like that but they're like horror movies. I know I'm going to be scared. I know I'm going to have nightmares but I Can't. Stop. Watching. Them!

Oh Oh OH! I have another that just made me CRY my freaking eyes out: The Host, by Stephenie Meyer. And yes, it was another death-involved bit that got me going. Possibly, I have issues there.

6. One book you wish you had written: Oh, this is easy... but it's going to be a repeat -- gods in Alabama, by Joshilyn Jackson. Really, ANYTHING by her. I would kiss toes (and trust me, this is like losing a limb because I am NOT a fan of feet, except my own, and that's weird so that's another post)... ANYHOW. I would kiss toes to be able to write like Joss. She ROCKS the words. She takes words and stretches and shapes and stretches and shapes and then gives you Sweet Gooey Shiny Saltwater Book TAFFY.

7. One book you wish had never been written: I'm going to be a nice person and NOT mention it by name but there was this ONE book. Everyone talked and talked and talked about this book. "OMG, it's great!" "OMG, you have to read it." So I bought it. And I tried to read it. I really, REALLY tried. Fifty pages into it, I threw it against the wall and decided the rest of the population had to be STARK RAVING CRAZY. Either that or all of THEIR copies came with a special crack powder in the binding that skewed their reading pleasure centers. And I missed the book crack boat.

8. One book you are currently reading: I'm not ACTUALLY currently reading anything but I've moved a book off the shelf and into my about-to-start-reading spot on my desk, so that counts. Right? It's The Sugar Queen, by Sarah Addison Allen. I love, love, loved her Garden Spells book and Deb had a pretty good review of this one on her blog. Therefore, it's next.

9. One book you've been meaning to read: Umm, LOTS and LOTS of books? Seriously... one? No. I have LISTS of books I've been meaning to read, am going to buy to read, or will get from the library to read. LISTS. Two of the latest additions to my list are: Beastly, by Alex Flinn, and Wicked Lovely, by Melissa Marr. And that's just on the YA list.

Well, there they are - all my little book-ish tidbits. I suppose this whole thing is supposed to say something about me. Maybe? I don't know what it says, though. I'm a sucker for stuff that will make me cry. I'm a sucker for big, fat books. If it's Joshilyn Jackson writing it, I'll buy multiple copies because I'm always thrusting one into someone's hands, saying, "READ THIS!" And I like me some wizardry and Young Adult. Also? EVERYONE should read at least one Judy Blume in their lifetime. Really. Every. One.

Edited to Add: I spent an HOUR copying all the little book pictures to make this post look PRETTY and -- insert VERY BAD WORDS -- Blogger just CAN'T get the picture thing down pat. It jacks that stuff up EVERY damn time. *wordless screaming* I really need to move this blog somewhere else, I think. Therefore, no lovely pictures of books. Dammit. Stupid Blogger.

Marvelous Monday

2008-07-14T16:18:00.005-05:00

You know, for a Monday, this one is shaping up pretty darn well. This morning, I opened my email and had a BUNCH of comments from the last post. Whoo hooo, comments! Most of them thanks to Deb over at Red Shoe Ramblings.

See, Deb, being an audaciously lovely fellow redhead, not only called me SASSY but she also gave me a little blog award. Because she rolls that way. I'm going to have to think on it a little longer before I post it here, because I have to pass it on to 7 others and man, that takes some thought process. Something I don't have much of on Mondays.

So. Hey all you new folks! Lovely to see you here and THANKS for commenting!!

Also? It has to be said. One of the comments came from Michelle over at Bleeding Espresso and... Hello... is that NOT a more PERFECT name for a blog? Coffee-lovers unite! Plus, she has a great blog post about books, which I'm totally going to scam in the next day or so.

Today, I have to announce that I am a seriously happy camper!! Over the weekend, my best-est bud, C-Boy, FINALLY moved back to his place, which is next door-ish to mine (next door being 1/4 mile down our little paved single-lane road - his land backs up to mine). This after a two? three? year absence. Now, it's not like I haven't SEEN him in all that time. We've maintained at least a monthly poker night but that's just not the same as hanging out on a daily/weekly basis. And folks, I have SERIOUSLY missed my friend.

Today he came over to mooch my shower, because his water isn't turned on yet. Yep, things are feeling back to normal. *laughing*

One of the reasons I'm so darn excited about this development... You know how writers are always talking about their muses? The girls in the basement. That strange person in the attic of one's brain. Well, I have an intangible muse here and there but C-Boy? He's my Here-in-the-now-I-can-see-and-touch-him Muse (with a capital M).

It's this weird thing we have. Whenever we get together and talk for hours (which we did, OFTEN, when he lived next door previously)... I get ALL MANNER of ideas and plots and, Oh My Goodness, I WRITE like the gods are going to outlaw words tomorrow. He just sets off all the lovely synapses in my brain like 4th of July fireworks.

And yeah, that sounds sort of selfish... oooh, I want my friend back so I can write. It's not like that. I'm just a happier person when he's around, is all. More relaxed. He makes my stress laugh until tears are rolling down its face and it pees its pants. And then he spouts a conspiracy theory or two - which totally Cracks. Me. Up. because seriously? Conspiracy theories? Oh my. And suddenly, the world is RIGHT again.

Umm, disclaimer, before anyone gets the wrong idea (because apparently people do at times): This is my FRIEND. Not my lover on the side or anything sketchy like that. We're just good, good friends with no benefits involved other than laughter and the occasional shoulder. Disclaimer over.

So. There's that. And that is Oh-So-Good. Plus? Deb called me SASSY. Who wouldn't have a great Monday after that??

Oh, and you lovely PRETTY PRETTY commenters? Thank you! I puffy-pink-HEART you. Stick around and pet my ego, yes?

Okay, I'm off to check out everyone else's blog now for a little ego-petting exchange. All these new ones to look at. Whoo hoo!

Six Reasons I Am Inadequately Girly

2008-07-11T18:00:00.010-05:00

So just when I thought I couldn't feel worse about myself -- you know, the whole here-I-am-ditching-another-manuscript-so-I'm-beating-myself-up thing -- I get the following in an email from my Cousin Neesie:

(click for bigger picture)

Now, normally, this is the type of thing you send all your girlfriends so you can all Hee-Hee- Haa-Haa and commiserate with each other about men's habits. And I agree, it's funny! Or it would be, if I wasn't the one reading it.

Reasons why this is not so much with The Funny to me:

1) While I know HOW to fill up ice trays, umm... I sometimes forget to follow-through. I won't say how often the empties end up stacked on the counter or they get filled with water but fail to make it all the way to the freezer. Basically? Mr. Clean has started buying bags of ice during the summer months.

2) Toilet Paper rolls. Heh. Yeah, I'm not so good with this one either. I find going to the bathroom an interruption of my time. So I do it quickly. Taking the time to remove the used roll and replace it with a new one? Nahhh. I just set the new one on top of the old roll. I live with boys so no one complains. And in my defense, I do actually put new ones ON the holders like once a month or so.

3) Okay, this is a valid beef... especially for me, living with the three boys like I do. It only took me falling into the toilet at two o'clock in the morning (ONCE) to threaten the lives of every male in my house. They're pretty good now at putting the seats down. As far as Seat Sprinkling - I think I blogged about this before, here. Women are BY FAR the worst offenders in that area, I'm sorry to say it.

4) We have a laundry hamper. I know where it's located. I usually make it there. I'll admit, however, that the ~~only~~ main reason dirty clothes make it to the hamper is that if they don't... Schatzi, the psycho cat, will christen them. On the flip side of that, my hope chest - at the end of my bed - has a magnetic tractor beam for clean, folded clothes. They never seem to make it to my drawers. At least they're neat and folded, though!

5) My dinner dishes DO make it to the sink. And then I bribe my boys to put them in the dishwasher. I have a ~~psychotic~~ serious abhorrence to seeing little bits of food in the sink. It makes me gag. I won't touch anything in the vicinity. My boys have a STINKY NASTY BAD habit of dumping their cereal bowls into the sink... leaving little spongy mush Cheerios sitting there in the drain where they wait to jump up and bite me. So. I Do Not Do Dishes.

6) Ahhh, the remote. If there's one genetic defect in my makeup that PLAINLY and BLATANTLY states I should have been a boy... it's the fact that I am the Holder Of The Remote. It drives me BATSHIT CRAZY to listen to commercials and Mr. Clean is just not quick enough with the mute button for me. Plus, ~~I have an illness~~ I like to check what's on other channels during commercials. Because I KNOW I am missing something important. Something I wanted to watch. Something I have FORGOTTEN about. (and invariably something I hear about from other people the next day, leaving me to scuff my toe and make up excuses as to why I missed the premier of such-and-such show... because I am LAME and FORGETFUL.)

7) Last, but not least... OMG, this is SO me. Every time I cannot find something (shoes, books, the remote, batteries, my pens, my bookmarks, where I hid my chocolate), I tend towards the manic "Someone STOLE MY SHIT" direction. I am CONVINCED - as I Stomp-Stomp-Stomp around the house - that someone has indeed come into my house and has STOLEN whatever it is I am looking for. Every time. And when I FIND what I was looking for... well... the FAERIES must be playing tricks on me again. The End. And I thank them (out loud) for returning my stuff.

Apology to my boys' future therapists - Yes, this is probably the main reason my kids believe in Faeries. And yes, I have FAILED to remove this idea from their heads... to the point that they now claim Faeries have stolen their shit, too.

So. In conclusion... it looks like I should have been a BOY. Because OBVIOUSLY I am not good at being a GIRL. I think I might blame this on my parents -- My Dad perpetuated the "someone stole my shit" stomping and my Mom is (still) the quintessential Tomboy. It wasn't until my late TEENS that I found dresses and even then, they tended towards 80's-Hair-Band-Groupie than anything I would consider "girly". I'm happy to announce, though, I have started buying SHOES. Sure, they are mostly flip-flops but Dammit, the last pair I bought were PINK.

I'm still not giving up the remote control, though.

p.s. Thanks, Neesie. I feel SO good about myself now!

Slimed

2008-07-08T01:44:00.006-05:00

After watching fireworks this weekend, a bunch of us walked around the yacht club to check out the other boats. One stood out in particular, a ginormous yacht complete with jacuzzi on her 2nd deck. It wasn't as much the jacuzzi (hello, my sweet) or the size of her that caught our attention as it was the lights shining through the water beneath her. That late at night, the lights attract all manner of life.

Sure enough, schools upon schools of tiny fish, crab, and shrimp were flitting about just beneath the surface. And just on the surface were twenty or thirty semi-translucent splotches. If I'm to be honest... it looked like discs of snot. "It" turned out to be "they" - something my Dad referred to as "potato jellyfish".

Digression: Okay, I have No clue why they're called potato jellyfish. I can't even find that reference anywhere on the web. My Dad's an ex surf-bum who grew up on the beach and calls all sorts of things by names I'll never figure out. They did sort of resemble flat little translucent potato chips... so Maybe I can see it? No. Not a clue. He's a strange one, sometimes, my Dad.

Anyhow. Two things were mentioned while we were watching these little flat globs seemingly float across the water: 1) If you disturb them, they glow green; and 2) if you try to pick one up, it completely falls apart and you're left with bits of slime.

That's right, it self-destructs. How about that?

Of course, in all this coolness... while the kids are ooh-ing and ahh-ing and wanting to poke at them to see them glow, all I could think was:

Those little jellyfish are my book. I poked and prodded and it glowed a pretty neon green. But then I tried to reel it in, capture it, and the whole damn thing fell apart. And now all I'm left with is a handful of slimy bits.

Leave it to me to find all that in a school of jellyfish.

All that to say, yes, the book I've been working on is dead, dead, dead. I'd like to say I have no clue what happened... but I do. It's kind of like picking up a book you've been hearing about. You're excited to read it. You send the kids out and settle in on the couch with a comfortable pillow and a tall glass of iced tea. And then twenty pages in you find yourself hurling that blasted book against the wall. Because. It. Sucks.

I can't even describe the suckitude this book has wrought over the past couple of weeks. And it wasn't even the normal first-draft-crap suck. It's like the entire plot took a deep breath... and then shot me the biggest raspberry it could muster. Finishing with an almighty Neener Neener. Psyche! Got ya!

So.

That's done. Now I'm cleaning up the remnants, stuffing them into a drawer, and then moving on. Some people would say it's a mistake to do that, that I should keep on keeping on. Plug away with those words. Fight through the suckitude. Meh.

The romance is dead and it's like that bad book --- why waste precious minutes, hours, days, MONTHS! of time on something that now? I can't even grasp the concept of what I was going for to begin with. I had something and then twiddled and twiddled and twiddled with the plot... until nothing was left but a character staring at me with a petulant look before rolling her eyes and saying, "Bored now."

But! I'm not staggering around like a drama-queen badly acting out an hour-long death scene so all is not lost. I have plot ideas bouncing around my head even as I type. Joy! I even spent a bit of time this evening plucking out a few of them and jotting down notes in my journal. There's one that is calling to me a little louder than the others. While I gauge its willingness to play, I think I'm going to head back to basics - writing in my journal and blogging - both of which I've been neglecting for a while now.

Sounds like a plan.

Surrender The Booty

2008-07-06T16:33:00.004-05:00

Believe it or not, these long stretches of blog silence are SO annoying to me. I twitch every day I'm unable to post something but unfortunately, when a small block of uninterrupted time is presented... it's at 4:00am and I'm so dizzy from exhaustion, I can't type a single word.

I had a great post about my garden all planned out for last weekend but then Mr. Clean and I were taken hostage by four teenage boys. They forced us to participate in Midnight-Laser-Rock-N-Roll bowling. I would have cried "Broke!" to get out of it (because I am now old and whiny about bowling until two o'clock in the morning) but they all paid for themselves. So. Mr. Clean, Doodlebug, and I beat the pants off of them, instead.

Two things...

1) Ten year-olds at 2AM are FUNNY... until they are cranky. Then they are no fun at all.
2) Doodlebug appears to be some sort of bowling savant. He approaches the lane with a little Ants! In-My-Pants! dance, heaves the ball like it's a time-bomb, and then gets a Strike! Every. Damn. Time. We watched him Very Closely and never could find ANY sort of rhyme or reason to his methods.

To say the least, the teenagers didn't take kindly to being beaten so badly. We've now been subjected to a re-match but with black-light miniature golf instead. Yippee! That will be next weekend. (Sidebar: I have NO idea why they'd choose black-light miniature golf as the re-match when only ONE of the four have ever even PLAYED mini-golf! Go figure.)

In between all the fun, though, I've been just SWAMPED with work. Seriously Drowning in the Overtime (that I do not want). The girl who works on my team took off all last week for vacation, leaving me with my work, her work, end of month reports, and transitioning clients (which are a full-time job by themselves). Yippee. <--- sarcasm

It was therefore only right that I deserved a little mini-vacation. So. We packed up Friday morning and headed down to my Dad and M-Mom's house for the long 4th of July weekend. Halfway there, we wondered if maybe a tropical storm was making landfall and we missed the news. Oh. My. Goodness, the RAIN. It rained so hard that after about an hour I thought for sure the windshield was going to say, "Screw this," and give way. Seriously.

Of course, there is NOTHING like downtown Houston in a deluge... especially after a bit of drought. It's like Houstonians forget what rain looks like, and how the windshield wipers work, and... I don't know.... How To DRIVE. You'd think those folks had never seen rain before.

By the time we arrived down in Clear Lake, my shoulders had taken permanent residence right next to my ears and my back was screaming for muscle relaxers. There is a SOLID reason I don't drive in Downtown Houston. Thankfully, though, the rain stopped not long after and left the sky clear (if not brutally HUMID) for the fireworks.

After a quick nibble - BBQ, Jalapeno sausage, red beans and rice, and fresh corn on the cob from my garden - we headed down to my Dad's sailboat and set up chairs at the end of his pier, where we had full view of the channel leading out to Clear Lake. The cool thing about fireworks from that location is that it's a Five-For-One deal. Five HUGE displays, all staggered so you have five enormously expensive finales.

While watching the light show, we were treated to music blaring from two two-storied bars just across the way - which resembled competing piles of fire ants in a flood, they were so packed. Halfway through, we started taking bets on which top level balcony would collapse first - not necessarily from being so packed as from the reverberations of the drunken patriotic singing going on. Loads. Of. Fun. There is NOTHING like Lee Greenwood's God Bless the U.S.A. until you've heard it in full stereo, across multiple sides of a body of water.

Saturday, we headed back out to the yacht club to get Dad's boat ready for a race that afternoon. Getting the boat ready pretty much means having a nice, slow breakfast... then swimming in the pool just long enough to get sunburned... and finally hanging out on the boat until everyone else arrived. Everyone else in this case meant a girl from my Dad's office, her boyfriend, and a really nice man we'd met while watching the fireworks the night before.

Sidebar: I have this theory about engineers... They seem to have some sort of internal RADAR for each other. I can't remember a single time I've spent time with my Dad where he didn't meet another engineer in the course of the day. It's downright freaky-strange. Except for the part that all engineers seem to be the NICEST PEOPLE.

So. We packed up a metric ton of bottled water, hung Daddy's new pirate flag, and headed out to the start of the race. I should probably mention that it's a new boat and they've only sailed her a handful of times now, while still getting the kinks out. Apparently, new boats are somewhat like new houses. After you first move in, you find little things not-quite-right and needing to be looked at before you're REALLY good-to-go.

Another thing I should mention -- Shaggy was going to be showing off his sailing skills, which I had not yet seen for myself. I was along for the ride. Just the ride. NO work involved.

We started out really great -- in the sense that I was wearing my little seasick bands and was therefore NOT hurling over the edge. We circled the starting point a couple of times and then hit it just seconds off our marked time.

And then the fun started. After we tacked the first time (tacking is when you flip the front "jib" sail from one side to the other and make a turn-- sailboats don't go in a straight line, they make left and right turns in zig-zags along the line), the main sail boom (the big beam that runs along the bottom of the main sail) started up with a deep vibration, which shook the entire back-end of the boat. Holy COW. Some quick tweaks fixed it for the moment but we got to experience that little bit of FUN a few more times before my Dad figured out the issue.

As we rounded the 2nd point - a small oil platform - of the 3-point triangle, which constituted the race course, Shaggy made a mistake. We were jiving instead of tacking... and he tacked. Big. Oops.

Jiving means you flip the MAIN sail from one side to the other and then you follow it with the jib sail at a slower, more measured pace. Tacking is very quick - you release the line it's currently on and then quickly pull the opposite line and get it on the wench. Basically, all that sail talk means we had a main sail that was only half-full of wind and a jib sail that was flapping in the breeze and winding around it's main line on the WRONG side of the boat. We call that a FUBAR because we immediately went from 6.5 knots to barely 3 knots. Within less than 5 minutes, we were dead last.

To fix things and try to catch up, we started sailing what's called wing-on-wing. That means the jib sail remained on one side of the boat while the main sail caught the wind from the other. It also means that if the wind isn't just right, you don't go very fast. Still, it was a great sail and we'd managed to get the vibrations of the main boom to stop... so there was that. It's the difference between a nice sail and feeling like you're riding a slightly bucking bronco.

As we rounded the 3rd point, we got everything back together and started to really fly. Just when it was getting good though... There is nothing like hitting almost 7 knots and having your step-mom, who is at the helm, say - loudly - "She's getting away from me!"

Like I said, this is a NEW boat and therefore all her little idiosyncracies haven't yet displayed themselves. One of them is the fact that she really, really likes to catch the wind and run away with you... much like a galloping horse who's been given too much rein.

We tilted to a nice angle, which allowed everyone on the low side to get a large GULP of seawater before hauling themselves arm-over-arm to the high side of the boat. I call this angle the "Oh Shit" angle because I was on the high side already but I am SHORT. And her cockpit is BIG... so I had NOTHING but my arm strength and everything I could find to brace my feet against to keep me from flying down the slope and straight into the water. That only happened three more times. Fun!

My arms feel like wet noodles today. Apparently, I need to lift weights a little more.

We spent most of the last leg as a teaching excercise for Shaggy (who was really beating himself up about the screw-up earlier). Therefore, we tacked back and forth as much as possible, giving him multiple opportunities to practice.

Shaggy is at that stage where he's all arms and legs but not much solid weight to balance on. As such, he hasn't quite figured out where to position his body in order to get the most strength and balance.

I told him, "Surrender the booty, boy!" -- echoing the words on Dad's pirate flag. And then began singing. I'm happy to say, I only had to hit one verse of "Get your butt down low, then wiggle to and fro" before he got the idea. Heh. He responded with, "How old are you again?" I grinned and said, "FIVE!"

What he doesn't realize is that my DAD heard that little song, so he's now likely to hear it Every. Time. He. Sails. ... from now until the end of time. *laughing*

Parenting can be SO COOL sometimes.

So yeah, we came in last place but it was just a practice race... a fun race... no trophies involved. And I enjoyed a solid 4 hours of gorgeous weather, wind in my face, and NO seasickness. Hallelujah!

Unfortunately, after we arrived back at the yacht club, cleaned up the boat, and took a quick swim in the pool.... it was after 11pm and no one had had anything to eat since 3pm. You could hear our stomachs for MILES around.

A quick trip to the grocery produced frozen pizzas. And few rounds of card games helped whizz the time by while waiting for them to cook. Doodlebug didn't quite make it. He mumbled something about making a sandwich as he collapsed on the couch and began snoring.

So that was my weekend. I'd hoped to write about it a little more poetically... but seriously? I'm WIPED out. I'm sun-drenched exhausted and have loads of laundry waiting, dinner to cook, and I'm still hoping to re-build my front porch gate before it gets too dark. You know... life back to normal.

Hope all of you U.S. citizens out there had a great 4th of July! And if you're reading this and aren't a U.S. citizen... hope you had a great weekend! :)

Rocking The Boat - Part 3

2008-06-26T12:15:00.000-05:00

Not so many pictures today. It always happens that I bring my camera and then completely forget I have it because I'm so darn busy looking around and experiencing everything.

First, I have to finish telling you about Day 2. Or really Night 2. Shaggy and Uncle Turkey took off after dinner with a challenge in hand - to find a location somewhere aboard the ship where a majority of us could sit down at one long table and play SPOONS. They returned a bit later, triumphant.

The little all-night pizza restaurant up top agreed to let us slide a bajillion little tables together with a long bench seat on one side and chairs on the other. And they provided the spoons. My stepmom brought two decks of cards along. So. After dinner, we all changed into comfortable-lunging-across-the-table clothes and headed up to the pizza place.

If you've never played Spoons: You set down one less spoon than the number of people sitting at the table (8 people = 7 spoons) and two decks of cards. Everyone starts with 4 cards.

The dealer starts by choosing a card from the deck and simultaneously discarding a card to his/her right (either the one chosen or one from his/her hand). The next person either keeps that card, passing one of theirs to the right, or passes it on. Repeat. Quickly. As fast as you can. You can never have more than 4 cards in your hand.

The goal is to get 4-of-a-kind and then QUIET-SNEAKY-like grab a spoon. The last person is left spoonless and they receive a letter next to their name on a sheet of paper. We spell out J-A-C-K-A-S-S. Once you're a full jackass, you're out of the game.

Now that you know the rules, let me set up how it is WE play...

When we're waiting for the dealer to get that first card, the entire bunch of us start banging our fists on the table, repeatedly, until the cards start reaching us. Then it's utter mayhem. The cards are flying. Some people are slow and get backed up, then pass a number of cards at once. Some are fast so always waiting.

The idea is to sneaaaaaaak that spoon once you get 4-of-a-kind. Once it's noticed that a spoon is gone, the entire table erupts and it's a grab-all mess of shrieking and throwing one's self across the table to fight for the last spoon. On occasion, spoons sprout wings and FLY through the air in the excitement. It's NOT safe to walk by while we're playing. Sometimes people flail about and fall out of chairs in the brouhaha. Mostly, we try not to pee our pants from laughing so hard. And if we start to notice that a few don't have any letters, we start targeting their spoons on purpose. We're a competitive bunch. <---- MASSIVE UNDERSTATEMENT.

That night as we played, we changed things up a little and everyone slid one seat to the right after every hand. That was interesting. It lasted one full revolution of the table and then we decided we all liked our original seats better. *laughing*

BabySis and Cousin Bubbles are some of the sneakiest players out there, many times managing to grab a spoon unnoticed and then continue dealing or passing cards for minutes on end before anyone notices. Boogers.

Halfway through the game, we noticed they were playing Disco music on the speakers. My family is known for breaking out into impromptu song/dance... usually to the YMCA. We sang - loudly (and umm, quite nicely I have to say) - giving the small after-hours pizza crowd rowdy renditions of Get Down Tonight and Boogie Shoes by KC and the Sunshine Band. I SO wish I had video.

We all finally headed off to bed around 2:30AM. We were SUPPOSED to all get up and meet for breakfast in the dining room at 8:00AM. Umm, yeah. That didn't happen.

Day 3 - Nassau, Bahamas

8:30AM - Woke up and immediately freaked because we were LATE for our breakfast meet-up. Rolled the boys out of bed while brushing my teeth and yanking on jeans. I'd given up on trying for privacy while dressing, resorting instead to screeches of, "Close your eyes, I'm going NEKKID!" They learned quickly to squeeze their eyes shut while Mr. Clean just shook his head and laughed.

9:00AM - Started calling rooms to see who else might be late. No one answers. Damn.

9:05AM - Go up to Deck 11, where the buffet is and start locating other family members who were also late or FORGOT we were meeting for breakfast. Whew! Sweet relief. I settle on coffee, toast, and a box of Cheerios with skim milk. I manage the coffee and one bite of toast. Doodlebug eats the rest. I readjust my seasickness bracelets. They sort of HURT where they're pushing into my wrists and are causing a little swelling in my hands. The alternative is hurling. I leave them on.

9:30AM - We head down to Deck 1, in order to leave the boat and check out Nassau. We were supposed to meet up with my Dad, Stepmom, and BabySis, so we could go see the Pirate Museum but they're nowhere to be found.

9:35AM - Good Dog, it's HOT in Nassau!! I never for a moment believed it could be SO hot on an island. The breeze is like 100 degrees. Imagine getting into your car after it's been in the mall parking lot for hours on a summer day. Then turn on the air conditioning. You know that hot air that bursts out and roasts your face at the very beginning? Yeah, that's Nassau.

10:00AM - Nassau is still HOT. And I - with my EXPERT map skills - have managed to send us in the complete OPPOSITE direction of where we needed to go. By blocks. Lots of blocks. I blame it on the heat. It addled my sense of direction. Sweat got into my eye and the map blurred, ya know. Oops.

10:30AM - We reach the Pirate museum and are all excited. This is supposed to be really cool. Thirty-six dollars and 15 minutes later, I'm scratching my head and looking around. That's it? SERIOUSLY?

10:45AM - Whew, Lordy, is it HOT. I keep looking down at my flip-flopped feet because TRULY, it feels like I'm walking on coals. Are my shoes STILL THERE? Have they MELTED? We head to the Straw Market. I know my Dad, Stepmom, and BabySis will be there somewhere. Plus, Doodlebug wants to find a key chain (his collection choice) and Shaggy wants a shot glass (ditto).

11:00AM - I've gone to Hell. Seriously. I thought it could not be hotter within a shaded space but IT IS. I have an overwhelming sense of respect and admiration for the CRAZY it takes the shop people to sit in the sweltering market. They all look cool as cucumbers and I am DYING. Truly, I'm going to DIE. Right there into a pile of straw hats.

11:15AM - I escape Straw Market hell and hit fresh HOT air. And look! There's Dad and everyone else. And also? My sisters GypsyRose and Pixie, and their families. Woo hoo!! We haven't had a chance to spend ANY time with them on this cruise.

11:45AM - Ooooh, I see it. I can't believe I'm seeing it. I rub my eyes to be sure it's not a heat-induced mirage. It's not. The words are right there. Doodlebug turns back, grabs my arm and says, "Look, Mom! It's a STARBUCKS!" He knows his Momma's heart.

12:15PM - I am enjoying a seriously good Iced Mocha w/ Hazelnut and a Toffee-Almond Bar. Oh YUM, YUM, YUM. I'm in heaven. And it's air-conditioned. Yippeeee!

12:30PM - My coffee and I continue having our little love-affair as we all head back toward the ship. In the little shops around the customs exit, I find a charm for my bracelet -- a sea turtle.

Here's the ship, at the pier:

1:00PM - Home, sweet, home. I collapse on the bed and wonder why I didn't wear something slightly less clean because now my cleanest pants had a one-time-use of four and a half hours. Bummer. And also? I think I dropped 20 pounds in sweat because they are now falling off my hips. Falling. Off.

1:30PM - Change clothes while muttering about the decidedly strong smell of BOY, which has liberally infiltrated our cabin.

2:00PM - Head up to Johnny Rockets, where they have burger, shakes, and endless fries/onion rings. Find out they also have dancing waiters/waitresses when the entire staff breaks out a line-dancing-singing rendition of Last Dance by Donna Summers. It's quite entertaining. My chicken club sandwich comes out and is HUGE. I eat half and take the rest for Doodlebug, who is downstairs swimming in the saltwater pool with other family members.

3:00PM - Poolside Sexy-Man-Legs Contest. I beg and plead but no matter what I do, Mr. Clean will NOT go up and show his sexy legs to the poolside panel of judges. Which stinks. Because he SO would have whooped them all. He has truly great legs. It's moments like this I wonder how on earth I ended up with a shy guy. *laughing*

4:15PM - BINGO! Again! I really want to win some Bingo money. Really. REALLY. Want to win. I go alone to meet BabySis because Mr. Clean, Shaggy, and Doodlebug didn't want to come with me, but she's not there yet. I start chatting it up with a woman from Pittsburgh. She's funny. We go in and buy our cards and then I head to the back tables/bench seating and she sits on a row at the front. Alone. It bothers me. BabySis finally arrives and when she goes up to get her cards, I insist the woman come back and sit with us. She agrees.

4:30PM - Other family members start trickling in to play. Within five minutes we've gone from two to THIRTEEN. The poor woman from Pittsburgh, though she was warned we were a big clan, is rather astounded. I can see it in her eyes. She's wondering how the heck to escape unnoticed. I assure her we don't bite. Much. Doodlebug and Shaggy have both come along to play (well, with an adult since they are too young) and Mr. Clean even shows up.

Shaggy insists he wants to pay for his own set of cards. I explain gambling to him and that most likely he'll be wasting his money. He doesn't care. He KNOWS he'll win. I figure it's as good a time as any for a lesson and let him give me his cash in order to purchase the cards.

The boys (and some other family members) are reminded they may not sit on the chairs if their swim shorts are still damp. They are. Shaggy sprints off to the room to change. I encourage Doodlebug to do the same but he's being stubborn. Finally, he relents and takes off to do the same. I figure he'll run into Shaggy at some point, so all is well.

Shaggy returns. Alone. I turn to Mr. Clean and tell him, "Ten minutes and then we launch a search party." Ten minutes go by. No Doodlebug. Mr. Clean leaves to go find the child. Two second later, Doodlebug breezes in and says, "I got LOST! It was kinda fun, though."

Of course, now this means Mr. Clean is wandering around looking for someone who's no longer missing. He shows up about five minutes later, though, so he didn't miss the beginning of Bingo just yet.

5:30PM - None of us has even come CLOSE to winning. Booo. Hiss. Shaggy is defeated and annoyed and thinks gambling is GIANT. Waste. Of. Time. I am patting myself on the back for a lesson well taught. It'll be a long time before he shells out money like that again. I take a peel-off ticket (another $5 won) to the casino and cash it in.

5:45PM - A little wandering and shopping on Deck 5. We run into a bunch of other family members doing the same. Papa is there in his wheelchair and Doodlebug starts whizzing him around the place. He LOVES pushing Papa around and I love my boys spending so much time with him during the trip. Amazingly, I'm having so much fun, I FORGET to buy coffee. I have officially whipped my addiction. (don't worry, it came back with a vengeance the minute I got home)

7:00PM - We're back at the room taking a nap before dinner. Doodlebug heads out to check himself in to the Kiddo Adventure area - basically a giant playroom with Wii and games and other kids his age. He's hoping to find a friend he made earlier, who is from India.

8:00PM - Wake up. Doodlebug is back. We all get dressed for dinner and head up to the dining room.

8:30PM - Dinner. Shaggy runs around with his camera, taking video of everyone. Aunt SuzyQ tells him she better not find any video of her eating on the "Boob Tube" (YouTube). We fall out of our chairs laughing. It's a running joke that the only pictures anyone has of Aunt SuzyQ is either of her with food in her mouth or sleeping. It's true. I don't know how it keeps happening but it's true.

Dinner is amazing. The head waiter checks on us again -- he's truly awesome and really went out of his way to rearrange everything so we could all sit together at two long tables.

I notice lightning outside the dining room window. I mention that I think we may be listing slightly to the left. No one believes me. They think I am DRUNK or CRAZY. But I feel it.

9:30PM - Seriously. We are rocking side-to-side and I'm the only one who seems to notice. My abs are getting a workout from trying to stay upright. FINALLY, a few others start to agree that yes, we are moving a little. Yes! I am NOT CRAZY!

10:00PM - We all head out to one of the decks to watch the lightning. So cool. And a little freaky. It's CLOSE. I'm extremely thankful for the bracelets because otherwise, I think dinner might have reappeared.

10:15PM - We've lost Doodlebug AGAIN. Mr. Clean states, "It's not like he can get very far." Umm, not helping. He was last seen pushing Papa in his wheelchair, with Shaggy right there next to him. I ASSUMED he would go with Shaggy after that but.... nope... there's Shaggy headed down some stairs. Alone. Cousin Bubbles and Mr. Bubbles show up on deck. They tell us they saw Doodlebug with my Dad and Stepmom. Two minutes later, THEY show up. Alone. They don't know WHERE he is. Mr. Clean heads out to find him and returns a few minutes later. Shaggy had dropped him off with Cousin Tippy Toes and her fiance. They're playing Bingo.

10:30PM - Casino time! I have yet to hit the casino and am really looking forward to it.

10:35PM - It's PAINFULLY clear that I am in all-out-balls-to-the-wall Cooler mode. I can't win a THING and anyone I sit/stand next to immediately starts losing. But darn it, I KNOW a specific slot machine is about to hit pay dirt. I talk Mr. Clean into putting some money in but apparently I didn't stand far enough away. Nothing. ARGH! I've never had such crap luck in a casino in my life.

11:00PM - Drinking. We've moved to the bar. I'm served a cranberry and vodka that sears the skin from my throat. I have more cranberry added to it and it's STILL wayyyyyyy too strong. Three sips and I'm feeling that ship rocking to and fro like never before. We sit and chat for a little while - Mr. Clean, myself, Daddy, M-Mom (my stepmom), Aunt Silly, Aunt SuzyQ, and BabySis. Shaggy shows up, looking bummed. He admits he was really hoping to meet some girl on the cruise and there are None. To. Be. Found. I feel for the kiddo.

1:00AM - We head off to bed after lots of hugs. My original ten members of the family are slated to leave butt-crack early in order to make our flight. I'm SO looking forward to a 6:00AM wake-up call. Woo hoo. Can you feel the excitement?

5:00AM - The alarm goes off. Apparently Mr. Clean's cell phone reset itself once back in Miami. It had been an hour off the entire time we were out to sea, so we'd set the alarm accordingly. I want to DIE. But first, I'd like some coffee to go with my death, please.

6:00AM - Breakfast in the dining room. Coffee and a croissant with honey. Finally, I've managed to down a little breakfast. We meet up with everyone else and head off the boat.

9:00AM - Miami Airport. Where we realize they've pushed our flight back an HOUR. Instead of 11:20AM , it's now 12:55PM. Oh. My. Lord. We spend the next three hours alternately sleeping on the floor, playing Gin Rummy, and eating corn dog bites (because it's the breakfast of champions!). Starbucks is there and I am So Very Thankful.

1:00PM - It's apparent that our pilot is really Racer X. Mr. Clean and I spend the next two hours singing "Go go speed racer" under our breaths as we fly. We hit the ground and errrrrrrrrrrr, the pilot hits the turn with a squeal. Less than two minutes later we're at the gate and getting off the plane. Talk about expedience!

All-in-all, it was a GREAT trip. We didn't get to spend as much CLOSE family time together as we usually do at our lake house but it was loads of fun anyhow. And we all had our own bathrooms! (as opposed to sharing the one at the lake house) Snorkeling together was TONS more fun than swimming in the lake, too. I can't wait to go snorkeling again. The most important thing, though, was that Papa had a BLAST. He said, "Next time it has to be a longer trip."

And though I'm home and still feeling the boat rocking to and fro, and though I'm thoroughly exhausted.... I already miss my family and wish we'd had a few more days.

Rocking The Boat - Part 2

2008-06-25T13:00:00.002-05:00

Welcome back! Today, we have PICTURES. Wooo Hoo!

Day 2: Coco Cay

7:45AM - Woke up. Banged my head on the pull-out bed above me (Shaggy's). Swore loudly. Took a shower. Attempted to get dressed in the bathroom, which was the size of a postage stamp. Banged my knee on the toilet. Banged my elbow on the sink. Almost went ass-over-teakettle into the shower. Finally, said, "Screw it," and finished dressing in the room while praying the boys didn't wake up for a view of my naked ass. I didn't succeed. Halfway through dressing, Doodlebug opened his eyes and then proclaimed LOUDLY, "Ohhhh, I should NOT have seen that!" To his future therapist -- So. Sorry.

8:45AM - Finally managed to fully wake up Mr. Clean and the boys. Learned that ALL people of the male species are incapable of getting out of bed without farting. Multiple times. Learned that the walk-in closet with beds holds the smell of farts LONG past what's tolerable. Immediately decided that I would have my OWN room on any future cruises. Called BabySis in her room and begged to be allowed to share with her. Cried when she said NO.

9:30AM - Breakfast. I tried. Fixed a plate of scrambled eggs, hash browns, and various fruits. Coffee. Managed some pineapple, watermelon, the hash brown wedge, and a bite of eggs. Do they use powdered eggs? Ugh.

9:45AM - Decided that breakfast was NOT going to stay with me and headed (quickly) back to the cabin.

10:00AM - Lots of moaning. A few tears as I realized I might MISS snorkeling on Coco Cay (where we were currently anchored).

10:02AM - Shaggy came in, took one look at me, and then left quickly.

10:15AM - Daddy walked through the door. I don't want to move. I don't want to talk. I want to HURL. He MANHANDLES me, twisting my arms so he can force seasickness bracelets on my wrists. Tries to stick pink chewables of some sort down my throat. Thankfully, I still had enough brains left to ask what they were first... Pepto Bismol. If he'd succeeded, he'd have been wearing pink within 30 seconds --- I have a seriously violent physical reaction to Pepto. Think Exorcist, then turn everything pink... that's me and Pepto. He reaches into his other pocket and pulls out orange-flavored antacid of some sort and sticks them in my mouth (Oh yes, he physically STUCK them in my mouth... because I am FIVE).

10:30AM - Admit that yes, perhaps the bracelets are working and maybe it wasn't JUST the powdered egg at breakfast that caused my issues.

10:45AM - Boarded a shuttle boat to Coco Cay. Still a bit queasy but determined that I WAS going to snorkel, dammit. Because I've never done so. And I'd already paid for it.

As we pulled up to the dock, I saw this and promptly forgot my stomach:

And then this:

How can anyone think about a queasy stomach when you see that?

11:30AM - Found the Snorkel shack and collected our fins, mask, and vest. Attended a quick and dirty lecture on using the vest and mask. The instructor sprayed "stuff" in our masks and assured me it would not sting my eyes, just to dump the remainder out, give it a quick rinse, and there she goes.

11:45AM - Strolled down to the snorkeling cove:

Totally pristine. The rocks were coral, the water was clear, and Oh My Heavens was it COLD. It felt AMAZING, especially after the morning I'd had. Immediately, I had No Worries beyond trying to get those cursed fins on my feet (which had swollen slightly on the plane and had yet to go down completely, even though I'd chugged gallons of water since boarding the ship).

12:00PM - Everyone was suited up and in the water. I put my mask on and HOLY CRAP ON TOAST... it BURNS... it BURNS... my eyes are on FIRE! I took the mask off. I can't see. I'm blinded for life. I rub my eyes, rinse the mask again, and put it back on. Nope. It burns! My eyes are flaming balls of red heat. And in between Very Brief moments of visual clarity, I notice that Doodlebug? He's not looking so into the snorkeling all of a sudden. Oh he likes wearing the mask and squirreling about in his fins but when I mention swimming out a bit further, he totally balks.

12:15PM - Doodlebug and I are DITCHED by Mr. Clean, BabySis, and Shaggy. They take off for the deep end. I'm in chest-high water, Doodlebug clinging to one arm, my Mask of Eyeball Death hanging off the other.

12:30PM - I finally get my eyes to calm down long enough to keep the mask on for more than 30 seconds. I figure by this time... Whatever. It's not going to work. I turn my attention to getting Doodlebug out there to see some fish. At the least, I want him to have fun. We head out and around a jetty of coral, to where the water is clear and I encourage him to put his face in the water and check out the view. He does so.

12:35PM - Doodlebug pops his head up out of the water and says, "I want to go in. I want to go in. Now. I'm going in NOW." I'm dumbfounded. "What did you see down there? Fish?" He shakes his head and says, "Some sort of pit or something. I want to go in now." I'm thinking, "A Pit? A pit within a pile of coral has scared him back to the beach? Are you Kidding me?" We head back. As soon as he can stand, he scampers out of the water and toward the chairs where a bunch of family members are sitting.

12:45PM - I'm hanging out in the middle of the cove, my mask still on my arm, my eyes still burning. But it's getting better every minute. FINALLY, I'm able to get my mask on and go snorkeling. Woo hoo! Except... umm.... I'm ALONE. I can't find Mr. Clean or BabySis or Shaggy anywhere -- and really? How was I supposed to? It's hard to tell who's who from their butts sticking up out of the water.

1:00PM - I see LOTS of lovely, lovely FISH!! In between moments of such profound silence I am POSITIVE SURE a shark is coming to eat me any second. Unfortunately, my periodic flailing about in order to take a 360 degree view of my surroundings... you know, to SEE the teeth before they eat my leg off... scares the fish away so each time I have to go searching for them again.

1:30PM - I see my Aunt Silly headed my way. Woo hoo!! Someone I know. I'm not alone! She gets to me and I notice her mask is not on. "It burns!" She tells me. Umm, yep... I know the feeling. It seems it may be the saltwater as opposed to the spray-stuff. And once mentioned, it dawned on me that I couldn't remember the last time I'd been in saltwater. Jamaica, I guess, and that was like almost seven years ago. We head out together toward a lifeguard tower, where the fish are said to be amazingly plentiful.

1:45PM - Plentiful is an UNDERSTATEMENT. There are so many cool fish - Tangs, Gourami looking things, striped fish, etc. They're nibbling at my hair and rubbing against my hands. I'm in snorkel heaven. I'm also sporting a hellacious calf cramp but I don't care.

2:15PM - I head back to the beach with Aunt Silly and find everyone else already out of the water. Eating. My stomach growls. I go to put on my jean shorts and find a seagull has graced me with a present, alllllll across the butt and part of the leg. PRETTY.

2:20PM - Doodlebug decides (Finally) to go out snorkeling with Cousin Bubbles, Mr. Bubbles, and Aunt SuzyQ. He shows absolutely none of the fear he had earlier. I'm relieved and excited for him.... and maybe a little Meh about him not wanting to go back out with me. Then again, I'm a bit water-logged and my stomach is drawing attention with its scary noises.

2:30PM - Eat lunch while watching the dive-bomber seagulls steal people's food. They are NOT shy. One poor guy set his plate down, then turned to grab another from his wife and in that tiny-tiny window of seconds, fifty gajillion seagulls swooped down like sharks in a feeding frenzy and STOLE that man's food. There wasn't a CRUMB left on the plate. He stood looking at the now-empty table as though he couldn't quite grasp what had just happened. Of course, we tried not to fall out of our chairs laughing -- not necessarily because it was funny but because it had scared the ever-loving bejeezus out of us. I thought I'd just entered a film set for the sequel to The Birds!

2:45PM - Finish lunch, while keeping an eye on the hundreds of seagulls lined up at the roof's edge just a few feet away... where they WATCHED ME with their starved eyes. I could hear their little brains clicking and every now and then one would squawk "Mine! Mine!" to the others, while staring as though my eyeballs, so well-soaked in saltwater, looked like the filet mignon of beach-fare.

3:00PM - Doodlebug arrives back on the beach, now sporting some tiny red marks on his arm. He claims they sting. I immediately come to the conclusion that he's had a run-in with jellyfish. No matter how I beg and plead, while trying to keep a straight face, he will positively, absolutely NOT let his brother pee on his arm. Not. Going. To. Happen.

3:15PM - We head to the Medic shack, where there is a lonnnnnnng line of folks waiting and all of them sporting similar red marks. The lifeguard on duty mans his post with a grin a mile wide and two giant spray bottles filled with vinegar. When we finally reach him, he informs us - as he spritzes my son with vinegar - that they're tiny Moon Jellyfish and the stinging should disappear within about five minutes.

3:30PM - We board another launch and head back to the ship - exhausted and sunburned. Believe it or not, there apparently is a BIG difference between Coppertone Sport SPF 50 No-Rub spray (supposedly waterproof and sweat proof) and Coppertone Ultra-Guard SPF 50 lotion spray. Mainly that the Sport doesn't WORK and the Ultra-Guard works so well you only have to apply once. Guess which one I took with us?

This is the last view of the island:

And then it was back to the ship:

3:45PM - Attempted a quick shower but found we had NO WATER. Apparently, everyone else on the ship wanted a quick shower also. Took a nap. Took my sunburned skin, my salt-watered hair, and my youngest son to the shopping level where I visited the coffee shop for the largest Iced Almond Mocha money could buy and he had a scoop of ice cream. Did you see that? ALMOND, folks. Digression: I miss my Almond Mochas soooo much. Thanks a bunch, Starbucks, for discontinuing my all-time favorite flavor for coffee. Boogers. Digression over. The coffee on board was Seattle's Best. And it was Gooood. Of course, by then I was detoxing on my Starbucks addiction so any coffee tasted like heaven.

4:15PM - BINGO! A few of us meet up in the theatre to buy Bingo cards and pull-tab instant win lottery-type tickets. Cousin Tippy-Toes' fiance wins $100. I encourage Doodlebug to kiss my tickets. We win $5. We buy another batch for -- you guessed it, $5 -- and he kisses them again. We win $5. I'm hesitant to pursue more gratuitous kissing on my Bingo cards as I wouldn't want to start a gambling addiction or anything like that. After having ONE number to go, three games in a row, I kick myself for not letting him kiss the cards. Still, we had So. Much. Fun.

8:30PM - Dinner and we were all seated together! The head waiter really came through for us. I was thoroughly impressed. It was formal night, so we were all dressed up. Earlier, we'd sat for a family portrait. We gathered stares as the poor photographer tried to get us all placed and situated. After it was all said and done, though, we collectively agreed that he'd taken MUCH less time than we did every year doing our own. Everyone looked gorgeous and we had a great meal together.

10:15PM - The Love & Marriage Show. Think the Newlywed Game but instead of just newlyweds, add a couple who's a little on the crazy side and then another that's been married for twenty or thirty years. Guess who the newlyweds were? No, go on, guess....

Yeah, members of my family. One of my cousins (Aunt Silly's son) and his wife of nine months got up on the stage and aired it ALL.

I may have almost peed myself a few times - like when she had to choose between Gone in Sixty Seconds, Superman, or Finding Nemo to describe my cousin's umm.. prowess in bed. Or when she was asked what was the first thing he touched after the alarm clock when he woke up every morning. Or when she answered that the the oddest place they'd had "whoopee" was in a jacuzzi and he said it was in her parent's living room. The best part of all was the fact that the ENTIRE family had shown up to watch this particular show. We all found out much more than we'd ever wanted to know about them. My favorite answer of my cousin's wife was to the question: "What's the most annoying thing about your husband?" She answered: "When he talks with his mouth open." Obviously, she meant when it had food it in also but what a sweet, sweet, Freudian moment.

More tomorrow....