Claire: "Mom, what happened to the lambie's leg?"
Me: "It broke off."
Claire: "So he limps?"
Me: "Yep."
[the first few lines of this conversation have been edited because I was NOT PC and may have used the term "gimp" in front of my child.]
Claire: "I know how to make the lambie NOT limp."
Me: "How?"
Claire: "Cut off his other legs."
*********
Claire: "I know how to make the lambie blind."
Me: [scared] "How?"
Claire: "Cut off his head."
ba-da-bum! She'll be here all week, folks.
Dec 6, 2007
Nov 14, 2007
Nov 7, 2007
Back in the saddle
After 48 hours of craziness and "company bonding," i am now back amongst the land of the living. Vegas was...Vegas. It was loud, obnoxious, and filled with drunken monkeys and lots of cigarette smoke. I have come to the conclusion that Vegas is the only place I've ever been on "vacation" where 48 hours is MORE THAN ENOUGH time. Everywhere else, by day 3 I'm like, "Oh, I wish I just had a few more days." Notsomuch with Vegas.
I missed my babies. Home is GOOD.
Although the carpet in the elevator was cool:
Nov 2, 2007
Come on, vamanos...
I watch WAY too much Dora the Explorer...
Anyways, I will be outta here until Wednesday. Going to Vegas. For a company outing. Sounded enticing until I got to that pesky "company" part, didn't it?
I'll see you on Wednesday....
(Damn, look at those wrinkles. That's what kids will do to ya!)
Oh yea, read about me on Manic's tomorrow!
Beware!!!
It's "Evil Dorothy"....
Nothing says, "I'm so sweet," like a Dorothy dress and the head of an undead pirate.Nov 1, 2007
Behold!
Puss in Boots and Dorothy!
We had too much fun last night! The chicks trick-or-treated for a good hour and a half, and everyone loved their costumes. Jenna kept getting mistaken for Zorro, until they'd notice her face; everybody was ooh! and aaahhh-ing over Clairey. One woman said, "Oh, you make such a cute Raggedy Ann!" Claire looked at her and said, "My NOT Raggedy Ann! My Dorothy!!" Little body...BIG attitude!
Oct 24, 2007
Oct 19, 2007
Letter to DIRECT ENERGY
Utility Area: Power lines in backyard
Comment:
Because I can never get through on the number, I've decided to email. On Tuesday, 10/16, I called the "Emergency Line" at approximately 730am. After going through the ridiculous amount of non-emergency selections, I was finally able to reach a customer service representative. I calmly explained to him that one of the power lines in my backyard was hitting one of my trees and was causing my tree to shower down sparks and flaming debris upon my shed and garage. Thank goodness it was rather wet outside; therefore, no flaming inferno. The CS rep told me, "I have sent out the emergency dispatch--they're on their way." Let's remember that this is 730 in the morning. For the next hour or so, me and my two young daughters stared out the back window watching our tree catch fire/go out/spark, etc. At 10am, when the "emergency dispatch" STILL hadn't shown up, i again called the "emergency" line. I was informed by an automated voice that the wait time was greater than 5 minutes. What a helpful emergency line. I hung up. At 11:04, the guy showed up. He informed me that he didn't know why the company hadn't trimmed my tree, but it was probably because the tree was nothing but a big weed. I'm not kidding. He actually told me this. WOW...a 45+ foot tall weed. With bark, no less. The guy was a real Einstein. He told me that he'd put in the call to have someone come out and trim the tree. Then he turned around and left. It is now FRIDAY, and guess what?? The tree is STILL not trimmed. This is ridiculous. Is there someone I can call that will actually get the job done?
Hoping my house doesn't burn down,
Stephanie Wisdom
Comment:
Because I can never get through on the number, I've decided to email. On Tuesday, 10/16, I called the "Emergency Line" at approximately 730am. After going through the ridiculous amount of non-emergency selections, I was finally able to reach a customer service representative. I calmly explained to him that one of the power lines in my backyard was hitting one of my trees and was causing my tree to shower down sparks and flaming debris upon my shed and garage. Thank goodness it was rather wet outside; therefore, no flaming inferno. The CS rep told me, "I have sent out the emergency dispatch--they're on their way." Let's remember that this is 730 in the morning. For the next hour or so, me and my two young daughters stared out the back window watching our tree catch fire/go out/spark, etc. At 10am, when the "emergency dispatch" STILL hadn't shown up, i again called the "emergency" line. I was informed by an automated voice that the wait time was greater than 5 minutes. What a helpful emergency line. I hung up. At 11:04, the guy showed up. He informed me that he didn't know why the company hadn't trimmed my tree, but it was probably because the tree was nothing but a big weed. I'm not kidding. He actually told me this. WOW...a 45+ foot tall weed. With bark, no less. The guy was a real Einstein. He told me that he'd put in the call to have someone come out and trim the tree. Then he turned around and left. It is now FRIDAY, and guess what?? The tree is STILL not trimmed. This is ridiculous. Is there someone I can call that will actually get the job done?
Hoping my house doesn't burn down,
Stephanie Wisdom
Oct 17, 2007
Home of the 'Flaming Weed'
Yesterday morning, in preparation for our dentist appointment, the chicks and I were sitting at the table scarfing down some sugar-laden breakfast cereal. Out of my peripheral hearing (like the vision, but with your ears), I heard a snapping, fizzing-type of sound. I looked out the back window, and saw sparks flying from one of our trees. An electrical line runs smack-dab though the branches of one of the many trees in the backyard, and this one was grounding out on a branch. There were sparks flying, and the occasional flame. It was quite lovely. The girls, however, found it disturbing. They're such sissies.
I went and grabbed the latest electric bill, whilst watching the dance of sparks fall upon my shed, and called the "Emergency" number listed on the bill. I don't even know why they have a separate number. After going through 3 minutes of options, such as "For billing inquiries..." (how is THAT an emergency?) and "If you would like to take a survey...", I finally just got pissy and started pushing buttons. One of them finally got me to a representative.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, yes you can. There's a power line in my back yard, that is hitting one of my trees and sending sparks and flames all over the place."
"Did you call the fire department?"
"No, it's not a flaming inferno--just sparks and small flames that keep going out--because it's really, really wet and rainy."
"Okay, let me get your address and phone number."
[give him info]
"Alright, the emergency team has been dispatched and is on its way."*
*Note: The time is 7:32am.
At 10:30am, the emergency people still haven't arrived. By this time, the branch that is touching the power line is nothing more than a charred toothpick. No more flames; no more sparks--just charring. I decided to call the electric company and bitch them out. I go through the same 3 minutes of crap, then again, get pissed and push random buttons.
"I'm sorry, but all customer service representatives are servicing other customers. The wait time is now exceeding 5 minutes."
Good frickin' thing this is an emergency line!!
At 11am, I get a knock on the door. It's the electric company. He said that he had already gone in the backyard and checked it out. Fantastic. Thanks for giving me the heads-up that your creeepy ass was in my backyard. You know what he said?!
"Well, the problem is that that thar 'tree' in your backyard is really just a big weed that turned into a tree. I don't know why it's so big. All the other trees have been trimmed back, but i guess they missed that one. I'll have someone come out and trim it."
A weed that turned into a tree? Seriously? Alrighty then.
Wednesday, 2:40pm: The "big tree-weed" in my backyard STILL hasn't been trimmed.
Behold--the flaming weed:
Oct 12, 2007
Conversations with Clairey
Claire: Mommy, you're so beautiful.
Mommy: Thank you, baby.
Claire: SO beautiful....
Mommy: thank you...
Claire: [mouthing the word silently--Be-a-u-ti-ful]
Mommy: You're a goofball.
Claire: Mommy? See my ankles on my nose?
Mommy: ankles?
Claire: Yes, right here on my nose---my nose is just like yours. With ankles.
Mommy: Freckles?
Claire: Oh yea, freckles. I like to call them 'ankles'.
Mommy: Thank you, baby.
Claire: SO beautiful....
Mommy: thank you...
Claire: [mouthing the word silently--Be-a-u-ti-ful]
Mommy: You're a goofball.
Claire: Mommy? See my ankles on my nose?
Mommy: ankles?
Claire: Yes, right here on my nose---my nose is just like yours. With ankles.
Mommy: Freckles?
Claire: Oh yea, freckles. I like to call them 'ankles'.
Oct 5, 2007
The HOLE OF DOOM
We live in an older house. By old, I mean it was built in '75. In the living room, it has these dark beams that stretch across the ceiling, and in one of the beams, is a hole. Once, it was a knot, but it has fallen out and left a hole. We tell the kids that it's the "Hole of Doom." If a wasp is in the house, it must have come out of the "Hole of Doom." If there's a tree roach in the house (eeewwwww!!!) it must have come out of the "Hole of Doom." If the kids are bad, we will hold them up to the Hole and let it suck them in. We're so evil.
Oct 4, 2007
Growing, growing, gone...
I can't believe another year has gone by, and my baby girls are a year older. It seems like that first year went by so slowly, then from then on...WHOOSH!! I know I'm usually a sarcastic bitch, but on a serious note--I am so proud and honored to be thier mommy. [Can I hear a collective "awwwww!"] Now, back to our scheduled programming:
Jenna:
Oh, Jenna, Jenna, Jenna. There are no words to describe you. Well, no words that are probably not offensive to someone's ears. Just kidding. You are a MAJOR shit. THAT, i'm not kidding about. Girl, you have the attitude of a sixteen-year old. If you could spend all day trying to negate me, you would. You are strong-willed, and as stubborn as they come... Child, you are absolutely SENSATIONAL!! I love it. I'm so glad you're not a wuss. Argue with me, baby. Try to get your point across. I'll listen, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm going to win. I'm the mommy. I win. Game over. But really, don't whine. THAT is really annoying, and I can't stand it. You say you're going to be a zooligist/rockstar when you grow up. I think you're going to be a lawyer. You're doing well in school, with the exception of the small incident last week where you smacked someone upside the head. Yes, she DID hit you first, but hitting at school is not allowed; hence, your birthday pony from Build-a-Bear will remain on top of the bookshelf until tomorrow night. Repurcussions suck, yes? It's much better to be the teacher's favorite than to be the trouble-maker. Ask your dad--he was the trouble-maker. You are, however, bored out of your skull, so I'm supplementing with materials I'm pulling off of an education site. You're doing so well. You're such a little smarty-pants.
You've had an interesting year, pooh. Losing teeth, moving to a new house, starting school. You've handled it all so well. I am so very proud of you. You want to be a "big" girl so badly. Take your time, baby--it will be here before you know it. And I don't care how big you are--I'm still going to pull you onto my lap and snuggle you. My precious pumpkin!
Claire:
I'm wondering if I should just type this in 'whine-ese', because seriously child, that is all you do: WHINE. I thought it would go away when you turned 4, but here we are, 3 weeks out, and the whine-fest continues. It's a good thing you're the cutest 4-year old in the world, or you'd be outta here. The pouty lip, those huge green eyes...look! Mommy's in a puddle on the floor. Cutie pie.
You, too, have had a big year. You had a lot of trouble with your sister going off to school. Every morning for the first two weeks, you'd cry as soon as the bus picked her up. "My want my sister!" you'd sputter, which left me wondering, "Why? You just spent the last 20 minutes of this morning fighting with her." You moved on with that change as soon as you realized that once she was on the bus and around the corner, you could go in her room, try on her shoes, play with her toys, and pretend you were the queen of it all. But I digress.
You've grown from a tiny little toddler into a tiny little girl. You don't grow much. You're standing at a whopping 3'2" tall. BARELY. The good news is you finally hit 30lbs, so you can now sit in a booster seat. Wow, was THAT a big day for you. You're such a silly girl--you keep all of us laughing. You are such a tomboy, but you MUST wear dresses, and you love Disney Princesses. You have a pink princess room, per your request, and you love it. You tell me all the time, "Mommy, my love my princess room. It's so pretty." You are full of spunk and character--the world is a better place because you're in it.
Jenna and Claire---you are my heart. I love you so very, very much!
Link to their birthday video: http://www.onetruemedia.com/my_shared?z=77274868399219a7d1174&utm_source=otm&utm_medium=text_url
Jenna:
Oh, Jenna, Jenna, Jenna. There are no words to describe you. Well, no words that are probably not offensive to someone's ears. Just kidding. You are a MAJOR shit. THAT, i'm not kidding about. Girl, you have the attitude of a sixteen-year old. If you could spend all day trying to negate me, you would. You are strong-willed, and as stubborn as they come... Child, you are absolutely SENSATIONAL!! I love it. I'm so glad you're not a wuss. Argue with me, baby. Try to get your point across. I'll listen, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm going to win. I'm the mommy. I win. Game over. But really, don't whine. THAT is really annoying, and I can't stand it. You say you're going to be a zooligist/rockstar when you grow up. I think you're going to be a lawyer. You're doing well in school, with the exception of the small incident last week where you smacked someone upside the head. Yes, she DID hit you first, but hitting at school is not allowed; hence, your birthday pony from Build-a-Bear will remain on top of the bookshelf until tomorrow night. Repurcussions suck, yes? It's much better to be the teacher's favorite than to be the trouble-maker. Ask your dad--he was the trouble-maker. You are, however, bored out of your skull, so I'm supplementing with materials I'm pulling off of an education site. You're doing so well. You're such a little smarty-pants.
You've had an interesting year, pooh. Losing teeth, moving to a new house, starting school. You've handled it all so well. I am so very proud of you. You want to be a "big" girl so badly. Take your time, baby--it will be here before you know it. And I don't care how big you are--I'm still going to pull you onto my lap and snuggle you. My precious pumpkin!
Claire:
I'm wondering if I should just type this in 'whine-ese', because seriously child, that is all you do: WHINE. I thought it would go away when you turned 4, but here we are, 3 weeks out, and the whine-fest continues. It's a good thing you're the cutest 4-year old in the world, or you'd be outta here. The pouty lip, those huge green eyes...look! Mommy's in a puddle on the floor. Cutie pie.
You, too, have had a big year. You had a lot of trouble with your sister going off to school. Every morning for the first two weeks, you'd cry as soon as the bus picked her up. "My want my sister!" you'd sputter, which left me wondering, "Why? You just spent the last 20 minutes of this morning fighting with her." You moved on with that change as soon as you realized that once she was on the bus and around the corner, you could go in her room, try on her shoes, play with her toys, and pretend you were the queen of it all. But I digress.
You've grown from a tiny little toddler into a tiny little girl. You don't grow much. You're standing at a whopping 3'2" tall. BARELY. The good news is you finally hit 30lbs, so you can now sit in a booster seat. Wow, was THAT a big day for you. You're such a silly girl--you keep all of us laughing. You are such a tomboy, but you MUST wear dresses, and you love Disney Princesses. You have a pink princess room, per your request, and you love it. You tell me all the time, "Mommy, my love my princess room. It's so pretty." You are full of spunk and character--the world is a better place because you're in it.
Jenna and Claire---you are my heart. I love you so very, very much!
Link to their birthday video: http://www.onetruemedia.com/my_shared?z=77274868399219a7d1174&utm_source=otm&utm_medium=text_url
Oct 1, 2007
Sep 27, 2007
Conversations with Clairey
Last night when I was tucking in Claire for the night:
Clairey: "Mommy, after you tuck me in, what are you going to do?"
Mommy: "I'm going to go tuck Jenna in."
Clairey: "Then what?"
Mommy: "I'm going to go downstairs and read."
Clairey: "What are you going to read?"
Mommy: "Oh, I don't know. Probably some poetry."
Clairey: "What's 'po-tree'?"
Mommy: "You know...poems..."
Clairey: "Oh, I like ploloms."
Mommy: "You do?"
Clairey: "Yeah, I like to eat 'em."
Mommy: "You don't eat 'poems', honey, you read them."
Clairey: "But they're good."
Mommy: "I don't think we're talking about the same thing. What are you talking about? What do you think a poem is?"
Clairey: "Those little, round black things with holes on the end."
Mommy: [thinking] "....Olives?"
Clairey: "Yeah, I like to eat olives."
Clairey: "Mommy, after you tuck me in, what are you going to do?"
Mommy: "I'm going to go tuck Jenna in."
Clairey: "Then what?"
Mommy: "I'm going to go downstairs and read."
Clairey: "What are you going to read?"
Mommy: "Oh, I don't know. Probably some poetry."
Clairey: "What's 'po-tree'?"
Mommy: "You know...poems..."
Clairey: "Oh, I like ploloms."
Mommy: "You do?"
Clairey: "Yeah, I like to eat 'em."
Mommy: "You don't eat 'poems', honey, you read them."
Clairey: "But they're good."
Mommy: "I don't think we're talking about the same thing. What are you talking about? What do you think a poem is?"
Clairey: "Those little, round black things with holes on the end."
Mommy: [thinking] "....Olives?"
Clairey: "Yeah, I like to eat olives."
Sep 20, 2007
Sep 19, 2007
The perfect princess room
Man, when I was a kid, I DREAMED about a room like this. The creation of Clairey's room was one of her birthday presents...she LOVES it. I love it. I could sit in there for hours.
Before (there was already a sky painted on the ceiling--thanks previous owners!):
After:
and there's more!
I forgot to mention that before I got on the freeway (wherein my clutch blew), that I had to go through a toll booth. That's right, a TOLL BOOTH--"free" roads are for pussies. So anyways, I get up to the toll booth, look in my purse, and i have NO CASH. I almost just started laughing hysterically. The toll-booth matron had to write me a special toll-booth ticket. I have to mail $1.50 to the county within 7 days or they're going to do something horrible to me. Like arrest me. Over $1.50.
Sep 18, 2007
The Monday to end all Mondays
But first, I must give you a brief rundown on some of the weekend's happenings:
On Friday night, my clutch started slipping.
Saturday morning, I call the Mini dealer and they tell me to bring it in on Monday at 1:30.
Sunday night, I realize that I must have a valid driver's license to get a loaner (mine was expired, had the wrong address, and not my married name).
Let's move on....
Part One
Monday morning, I get up, get the girls dressed/fed/brushed/muzzled, and off to their places of destiny--Jenna, bus; Clairey, babysitter's. And then, thinking I am oh-so-starting off my week responsibly, I head on out to the DMV to renew my license. I'm driving, driving, driving, and realize that the DMV is not where I left it last. I KNOW I'm on the right street, but it wasn't this far down last time. I'm pissed. My car is running like crap, and I need a license. I'm screaming out expletives because the fucking DMV has relocated. My phone informs me what street it's on, and I KNOW i'm already ON that street. I look around. Shit. I'm actually NOT on that street. Sonofabitch. I find the right street and still can't find the DMV. I turn around, go back, and there it is. I passed it. Find a parking spot, walk to the front and realize that I forgot to pull out cash. &*$#%$**!! I think, "Oh, maybe they've come into the 21st century and accept debit cards now." I walk in. "NO CREDIT CARDS ACCEPTED. ONLY PERSONAL CHECKS AND MONEY ORDERS." I don't have any checks, and it's not like I carry around money orders. I go home--fighting the urge to cry.
Part Deux
I go home, answer some emails, and get the courage to go back out. I go to the bank and get a money order. Of course, it takes 30 minutes because I am coerced into opening a new savings account and accosted about how I should own one of their credit cards. No thanks. I get my money order and head back to the DMV--taking the correct street, mind you. I park, get out of my car, and go to the doors. There's a large sign posted to the door that says, "COMPUTERS DOWN." WTF? I open the door, and the 90-year old DMV worker says, "We can't do ANYTHING. All computers are down." I go back out to my car, lock the door, and curse the gods. The closet DMV is frickin FOREVER away, down a major freeway, and in a car with the clutch slipping...UGH.
Part Three
Fighting back tears, I start the trek to the other DMV. My car goes from 0-10 in 2 minutes. Sucks for the people behind me. I FINALLY get to the other DMV, and can't find a parking spot. I find one, but there's a sign by it that says, "Parking only for [blah, blah, blah]." Whatever, I park there. I go in, wait for 35 minutes, and get a number: A15. I look up at the counter: 36. Hooray. It's got to go all the way to 99, then count up to 15 before it's my turn. Geez almighty. Two-and a half hours later, I'm on my way home. Whoops, no i'm not. It's 12:30 and I have to be at the Mini dealership at 1:30. I'm on my way to the Mini dealership.
Part Four
I'm going 65mph down the freeway. My clutch blows. Totally. I pull over and am stranded on the side of a busy interstate. Do I cry? NO. But I want to kill people now. I call the Mini dealership. They tell me to call Mini assistance or some crap like that. I call them. They send a tow-truck. 35 minutes later, the tow-truck is there. He loads up my car--while he's doing so, I get into the truck and do a quick inspection for any type of deadly-looking instrument--there's a UT shirt and a pair of boots. I think I'm safe. The driver gets in, and takes me to the dealership.
Part Five
I find out that if it IS my clutch, it's going to cost me $1800 to fix. Oh yes, and it's NOT covered by my warranty. They give me a loaner and I drive home. I'm STILL not crying, but am oh-so-close. I spend the drive home thinking of which corner would be best to sell my body to earn the $1800.
Part Six
Mini-lady calls--I'm giving the girls a bath so I don't hear it ring. It IS my clutch and it's going to cost $1825 and change. I go into the bathroom to either puke or pee. I decide to pee. My phone rings.
Part Seven
I get the message. It's my boss. Yelling at me. The client is EXTREMELY pissed at me for something. I consider drowning myself. I sit on the floor and instead of crying, I eat a popsicle. It didn't work. I still feel like crying. I wake up on the couch. I go upstairs and go to bed.
Exuent Monday
P.S. It's Tuesday. I just found out that my boss was laid-off and that my company has lost our account and all our work is being outsourced to India. We have a big meeting at 430. I hope I still have a job.
On Friday night, my clutch started slipping.
Saturday morning, I call the Mini dealer and they tell me to bring it in on Monday at 1:30.
Sunday night, I realize that I must have a valid driver's license to get a loaner (mine was expired, had the wrong address, and not my married name).
Let's move on....
Part One
Monday morning, I get up, get the girls dressed/fed/brushed/muzzled, and off to their places of destiny--Jenna, bus; Clairey, babysitter's. And then, thinking I am oh-so-starting off my week responsibly, I head on out to the DMV to renew my license. I'm driving, driving, driving, and realize that the DMV is not where I left it last. I KNOW I'm on the right street, but it wasn't this far down last time. I'm pissed. My car is running like crap, and I need a license. I'm screaming out expletives because the fucking DMV has relocated. My phone informs me what street it's on, and I KNOW i'm already ON that street. I look around. Shit. I'm actually NOT on that street. Sonofabitch. I find the right street and still can't find the DMV. I turn around, go back, and there it is. I passed it. Find a parking spot, walk to the front and realize that I forgot to pull out cash. &*$#%$**!! I think, "Oh, maybe they've come into the 21st century and accept debit cards now." I walk in. "NO CREDIT CARDS ACCEPTED. ONLY PERSONAL CHECKS AND MONEY ORDERS." I don't have any checks, and it's not like I carry around money orders. I go home--fighting the urge to cry.
Part Deux
I go home, answer some emails, and get the courage to go back out. I go to the bank and get a money order. Of course, it takes 30 minutes because I am coerced into opening a new savings account and accosted about how I should own one of their credit cards. No thanks. I get my money order and head back to the DMV--taking the correct street, mind you. I park, get out of my car, and go to the doors. There's a large sign posted to the door that says, "COMPUTERS DOWN." WTF? I open the door, and the 90-year old DMV worker says, "We can't do ANYTHING. All computers are down." I go back out to my car, lock the door, and curse the gods. The closet DMV is frickin FOREVER away, down a major freeway, and in a car with the clutch slipping...UGH.
Part Three
Fighting back tears, I start the trek to the other DMV. My car goes from 0-10 in 2 minutes. Sucks for the people behind me. I FINALLY get to the other DMV, and can't find a parking spot. I find one, but there's a sign by it that says, "Parking only for [blah, blah, blah]." Whatever, I park there. I go in, wait for 35 minutes, and get a number: A15. I look up at the counter: 36. Hooray. It's got to go all the way to 99, then count up to 15 before it's my turn. Geez almighty. Two-and a half hours later, I'm on my way home. Whoops, no i'm not. It's 12:30 and I have to be at the Mini dealership at 1:30. I'm on my way to the Mini dealership.
Part Four
I'm going 65mph down the freeway. My clutch blows. Totally. I pull over and am stranded on the side of a busy interstate. Do I cry? NO. But I want to kill people now. I call the Mini dealership. They tell me to call Mini assistance or some crap like that. I call them. They send a tow-truck. 35 minutes later, the tow-truck is there. He loads up my car--while he's doing so, I get into the truck and do a quick inspection for any type of deadly-looking instrument--there's a UT shirt and a pair of boots. I think I'm safe. The driver gets in, and takes me to the dealership.
Part Five
I find out that if it IS my clutch, it's going to cost me $1800 to fix. Oh yes, and it's NOT covered by my warranty. They give me a loaner and I drive home. I'm STILL not crying, but am oh-so-close. I spend the drive home thinking of which corner would be best to sell my body to earn the $1800.
Part Six
Mini-lady calls--I'm giving the girls a bath so I don't hear it ring. It IS my clutch and it's going to cost $1825 and change. I go into the bathroom to either puke or pee. I decide to pee. My phone rings.
Part Seven
I get the message. It's my boss. Yelling at me. The client is EXTREMELY pissed at me for something. I consider drowning myself. I sit on the floor and instead of crying, I eat a popsicle. It didn't work. I still feel like crying. I wake up on the couch. I go upstairs and go to bed.
Exuent Monday
P.S. It's Tuesday. I just found out that my boss was laid-off and that my company has lost our account and all our work is being outsourced to India. We have a big meeting at 430. I hope I still have a job.
Sep 12, 2007
Before and After: Family Room
All walls had dark paneling on them (no sheetrock underneath) that had been painted pale yellow. Painted really crappily, may I add. Both sides of the fireplace had these obnoxious built-ins going on, that that I had to DEMOLISH to get outta there. Whew.
All the walls have been textured...that horrendous front door will be getting a makeover soon...
Sep 11, 2007
Conversations with Jenna
As I was lying down with her in bed last night going through her 'sight words':
Me: What does a-s spell?
Jenna: A-S....(big eyes) That's a bad word.
Me: No it's not. What's it spell?
Jenna: Ass is a bad word mom.
Me: hahahaha! It spells "azz."
Jenna: Well, ass really isn't a bad word. But we call asses 'donkeys.' Why is ass a bad word?
Me: Well, it's just not nice to call someone an 'ass.'
Jenna: Why are stupid, heck, and shit bad words?
Me: (laughing) 'stupid' and 'heck' really aren't bad words--they're just not nice to say. 'Shit' IS a bad word, but I don't know why. Somehow, over time, it just became a bad word.
Jenna: Can I say 'heck'?
Me: yeah, you can say 'heck.' But not 'shit.'
hahahahaha!
Me: What does a-s spell?
Jenna: A-S....(big eyes) That's a bad word.
Me: No it's not. What's it spell?
Jenna: Ass is a bad word mom.
Me: hahahaha! It spells "azz."
Jenna: Well, ass really isn't a bad word. But we call asses 'donkeys.' Why is ass a bad word?
Me: Well, it's just not nice to call someone an 'ass.'
Jenna: Why are stupid, heck, and shit bad words?
Me: (laughing) 'stupid' and 'heck' really aren't bad words--they're just not nice to say. 'Shit' IS a bad word, but I don't know why. Somehow, over time, it just became a bad word.
Jenna: Can I say 'heck'?
Me: yeah, you can say 'heck.' But not 'shit.'
hahahahaha!
Off to a good start
Jenna has been in kindergarten for, oh, 2 weeks now--this is her third week. On the Friday before school started, Jenna and I went up to her school for the annual "Meet the Teacher" day. Actually, not so much a day, but an allotted 1 hour to get to take a nervous, non-social kid into a strange place and get her to "mingle" with a random woman who will take up 7 hours of everyday until the next summer. Sounds good, eh? So, we listen to the principal introduce the seven k-garten teachers, then we hear the spiel on how k-garten is so fun because they get to play with blocks! and read books! and color! and don't worry parents, because they're actually learning at the same time. Yeah. Okay. Then we all get to stand in this crowded hall in front of locked double doors to wait for the magic moment when the PTA member opens the door and we can all rush into the hallway and hunt down our kids' teacher/classroom. It was a lot like waiting to get into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Without the candy. And with a lot of small children that looked like they were about to have diarreah on the freshly cleaned carpet.
The door finally opened, and we all piled into the hallway. Jenna and I just walked further and further down the hall, because Jenna was lucky enough to be assigned to a portable building outside. Yay. Portable buildings! It's like a trailer park on campus, minus the tornadoes and greasy men in wife beaters. We found Jenna's trailer and walked inside, wherein Jenna decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to glue her 40 pounds to my left leg. Her teacher approached us and asked, "What's your name?" I think Jenna growled. I answered for her: "This is Jenna."
"OH, Jenna! I remember you from my list!" No response.
"She's nervous," I say. The teacher squats down next to Jenna and sweetly asks, "Don't be nervous Jenna. Tell me, what are some of your favorite things?"
Jenna looked at her and answered, " Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens." Just kidding. She actually looked at her and whispered, "I like the 'Four big cats'." Her teacher smiled and replied, "Well, gues what? I have a big cat at home!" I thought it was a nice gesture--trying to bond with my kid. But let's not forget--Jenna's not typical. Jenna hears her, unattaches from my leg, gives her poor unassuming teacher this LOOK, and replies," Not DOMESTIC cats, the 'four BIG cats': Lions, tigers, leopards, and cheetahs. JEESH!" She delivered it in a tone that said, "You stupid, stupid woman! Don't you watch National Geographic??"
I just looked at the teacher and shrugged. Off to a good start, wouldn't you say?
The door finally opened, and we all piled into the hallway. Jenna and I just walked further and further down the hall, because Jenna was lucky enough to be assigned to a portable building outside. Yay. Portable buildings! It's like a trailer park on campus, minus the tornadoes and greasy men in wife beaters. We found Jenna's trailer and walked inside, wherein Jenna decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to glue her 40 pounds to my left leg. Her teacher approached us and asked, "What's your name?" I think Jenna growled. I answered for her: "This is Jenna."
"OH, Jenna! I remember you from my list!" No response.
"She's nervous," I say. The teacher squats down next to Jenna and sweetly asks, "Don't be nervous Jenna. Tell me, what are some of your favorite things?"
Jenna looked at her and answered, " Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens." Just kidding. She actually looked at her and whispered, "I like the 'Four big cats'." Her teacher smiled and replied, "Well, gues what? I have a big cat at home!" I thought it was a nice gesture--trying to bond with my kid. But let's not forget--Jenna's not typical. Jenna hears her, unattaches from my leg, gives her poor unassuming teacher this LOOK, and replies," Not DOMESTIC cats, the 'four BIG cats': Lions, tigers, leopards, and cheetahs. JEESH!" She delivered it in a tone that said, "You stupid, stupid woman! Don't you watch National Geographic??"
I just looked at the teacher and shrugged. Off to a good start, wouldn't you say?
Aug 15, 2007
August update
I am a shitty blogger. Wait, no, I am essentially a non-existent blogger. I have gone from blogging every day, to blogging once a month. I suck. I know the three (?) people that read this blog have felt lost without me. Ha!
So, the month of August has been a tumultuous month, and will continue to do so well into the month of September, that will eventually turn into October, then November, and dammit, i'm not going to have a break until mid-January sometime. Cie la vie (an homage to Monocerdo--see, i can speak French, too!)
In this lovely month of August, I have not only been living, albeit barely, in the horrible climate of Houston (read: sweltering hot with a thick layer of humidity), but I have been battling the "i'm-trying-to-get-everything-ready-to-move-into-a-new-house" demon. Financing, paperwork, more paperwork, more financing, home inspections, blah, blah, blah. Fun? No, not really. Exciting? Oh, yes. Very. Here comes the daunting task of packing up all the shit i've accumulated over the past 6 years of living in this house. The following has been packed: the linen closet, which contained much more varied things than linens, including, but not limited to collectable Barbies, artistic stamping sets, random pillowcases, games, about $250 in leftover material from various attempts at sewing, and hundreds of gift bags which i always promise myself i'm going to reuse, but never do. It was a mess, but I digress. The large bookshelf has been packed, which proved a few things: 1)I have a lot of books, 2) books are heavy, 3) that is where all the boxes went. To books. My books. Many of them. Oh, other things have been done. The plastic margarita glasses have been packed. The girls' toys have been put in plastic garbage bags. I have cleaned out under the bathroom sink and the bathroom closet. You would not believe how much crap I have accumulated over the years. 10-year-old lipstick. Seriously. WHY? And every free makeup gift bag that Clinique has offered in the past 7 years. Under my sink looks naked.
In other news, my chicks are doing splendidly in gymnastics. They both got moved up to higher levels. I'm so proud (insert big smile here).
IN other news, Jenna starts kindergarten on the 27th. Listen for the sirens.
So, the month of August has been a tumultuous month, and will continue to do so well into the month of September, that will eventually turn into October, then November, and dammit, i'm not going to have a break until mid-January sometime. Cie la vie (an homage to Monocerdo--see, i can speak French, too!)
In this lovely month of August, I have not only been living, albeit barely, in the horrible climate of Houston (read: sweltering hot with a thick layer of humidity), but I have been battling the "i'm-trying-to-get-everything-ready-to-move-into-a-new-house" demon. Financing, paperwork, more paperwork, more financing, home inspections, blah, blah, blah. Fun? No, not really. Exciting? Oh, yes. Very. Here comes the daunting task of packing up all the shit i've accumulated over the past 6 years of living in this house. The following has been packed: the linen closet, which contained much more varied things than linens, including, but not limited to collectable Barbies, artistic stamping sets, random pillowcases, games, about $250 in leftover material from various attempts at sewing, and hundreds of gift bags which i always promise myself i'm going to reuse, but never do. It was a mess, but I digress. The large bookshelf has been packed, which proved a few things: 1)I have a lot of books, 2) books are heavy, 3) that is where all the boxes went. To books. My books. Many of them. Oh, other things have been done. The plastic margarita glasses have been packed. The girls' toys have been put in plastic garbage bags. I have cleaned out under the bathroom sink and the bathroom closet. You would not believe how much crap I have accumulated over the years. 10-year-old lipstick. Seriously. WHY? And every free makeup gift bag that Clinique has offered in the past 7 years. Under my sink looks naked.
In other news, my chicks are doing splendidly in gymnastics. They both got moved up to higher levels. I'm so proud (insert big smile here).
IN other news, Jenna starts kindergarten on the 27th. Listen for the sirens.
Jun 28, 2007
Conversations
Scene: Jenna is in Claire's bed with her, and Clairey is whining because I won't lay down with them and let her play with my 'cold hair.'
Jenna: Here, Clairey. My hair's cold--you can play with my hair.
Clairey: I don't want to play with your hair--your breath stinks.
Jenna: It doesn't stink, i just brushed my teeth!
Clairey: Yes, it does. It smells like....cow.
Jenna: Like cow?
Clairey: Yep, it smells like veal.
Jenna: Here, Clairey. My hair's cold--you can play with my hair.
Clairey: I don't want to play with your hair--your breath stinks.
Jenna: It doesn't stink, i just brushed my teeth!
Clairey: Yes, it does. It smells like....cow.
Jenna: Like cow?
Clairey: Yep, it smells like veal.
Jun 27, 2007
Now THAT'S cheap
I'm too lazy and too cheap to go get my hair cut, thus, I am growing it out. Let's see how long it lasts. It's already grown over the top of my ear, which is quite long for me.
Jun 25, 2007
Summer's here...
and the time is right, for dancing in the streets. Sorry, just had to get that out.
Summer, is, indeed here. It's hotter than hades, and since it's been raining for nearly 2 weeks, it feels much like a rain forest. The sun comes out just long enough to scorch the flowers into wilting, black stems, then it pours on them for a few hours. Nice.
So, the summer's nearly halfway over, and non of my fabulous plans to be a fabulous mother and give my kids a fabulous summer have come to fruition. Well, we did wrangle them up and get them to the museum 2 weeks ago. That was awesome. Would have been better if it wasn't raining, but I digress. We were able to catch a peek of the sun, so we hurridly found a picnic table that wasn't floating in a sea of mud and pollen residue. After sitting everyone down, we unpacked our picnic lunch. A cute little squirrel moved in closer to have a look. I threw him a chip. He loved that chip so much, that apparently, he telecommunicated his love for the great chip to about a thousand birds and fifty other squirrels that came upon us like a bad horror flick. The kids were screaming with excitement, I was grossing out, and the birds were all, "I heard there were chips. Where are the chips?" In a supreme effort to contract rabies, I was hand-feeding the squirrels. They're little teeth are so cute. And no, none of them bit me. A bird, however, was pecking at my Nike. Bastard. So I'm not sure exactly how much food went towards the kids' lunches, and how much went towards feeding the wildlife of Houston, but it definitely tipped over to the wildlife side when we opened the full bag of Lay's potato chips. I played pied-piper for a while: carrying the bag of chips, whilst leaving little crumbs on the ground behind me and creating a feathered and furred trail of creatures begging for high-sodium snacks. The kids got a kick out of it.
We then ventured over to the museum, where we luckily got in right before it began pouring. $45 later, we all have tickets to the Museum of Natural Science. Seriously, I could fart, call it "Natural Science," and THAT'S free...but NO, they wanted dinosaur bones. Jeesh. We had a good time, but keeping up with four kids in a place where there are thousands of things to see is a bit beyond our scope as new "parents of four." Claire was in a whiney/crappy mood, so she wanted me to carry her. Cripes, the kid weighs 32lbs. That gets heavy after a while. Plus, she was wanting to play with my hair, so I was lugging her on my left hip, then she had her hands in my hair, pulling my bangs down into my face rendering me sightless. --sigh-- Good news is, we all got out alive, and will most likely do this again.
This Friday, the girls and i are hopping on a plane to San Diego to visit my sister. It's a total girls trip: me, the chicks, mom, and my neice. It's going to be a blast.
Summer, is, indeed here. It's hotter than hades, and since it's been raining for nearly 2 weeks, it feels much like a rain forest. The sun comes out just long enough to scorch the flowers into wilting, black stems, then it pours on them for a few hours. Nice.
So, the summer's nearly halfway over, and non of my fabulous plans to be a fabulous mother and give my kids a fabulous summer have come to fruition. Well, we did wrangle them up and get them to the museum 2 weeks ago. That was awesome. Would have been better if it wasn't raining, but I digress. We were able to catch a peek of the sun, so we hurridly found a picnic table that wasn't floating in a sea of mud and pollen residue. After sitting everyone down, we unpacked our picnic lunch. A cute little squirrel moved in closer to have a look. I threw him a chip. He loved that chip so much, that apparently, he telecommunicated his love for the great chip to about a thousand birds and fifty other squirrels that came upon us like a bad horror flick. The kids were screaming with excitement, I was grossing out, and the birds were all, "I heard there were chips. Where are the chips?" In a supreme effort to contract rabies, I was hand-feeding the squirrels. They're little teeth are so cute. And no, none of them bit me. A bird, however, was pecking at my Nike. Bastard. So I'm not sure exactly how much food went towards the kids' lunches, and how much went towards feeding the wildlife of Houston, but it definitely tipped over to the wildlife side when we opened the full bag of Lay's potato chips. I played pied-piper for a while: carrying the bag of chips, whilst leaving little crumbs on the ground behind me and creating a feathered and furred trail of creatures begging for high-sodium snacks. The kids got a kick out of it.
We then ventured over to the museum, where we luckily got in right before it began pouring. $45 later, we all have tickets to the Museum of Natural Science. Seriously, I could fart, call it "Natural Science," and THAT'S free...but NO, they wanted dinosaur bones. Jeesh. We had a good time, but keeping up with four kids in a place where there are thousands of things to see is a bit beyond our scope as new "parents of four." Claire was in a whiney/crappy mood, so she wanted me to carry her. Cripes, the kid weighs 32lbs. That gets heavy after a while. Plus, she was wanting to play with my hair, so I was lugging her on my left hip, then she had her hands in my hair, pulling my bangs down into my face rendering me sightless. --sigh-- Good news is, we all got out alive, and will most likely do this again.
This Friday, the girls and i are hopping on a plane to San Diego to visit my sister. It's a total girls trip: me, the chicks, mom, and my neice. It's going to be a blast.
Jun 5, 2007
Conversations with Jenna
Last night, as I'm getting her out of the bathtub:
J: "Mom, why's your butt so big?"
Mom: [eliciting evil staredown] "Jenna! That's really not a nice thing to say!"
J: "Well, I don't mean your WHOLE butt...but your butt cheeks...why are they so big?"
J: "Mom, why's your butt so big?"
Mom: [eliciting evil staredown] "Jenna! That's really not a nice thing to say!"
J: "Well, I don't mean your WHOLE butt...but your butt cheeks...why are they so big?"
Apr 26, 2007
So much to talk about...nothing of which is interesting
...except that I have a muffin impediment. Oh yes: MUFFIN IMPEDIMENT. I'll let your mind wander for a few seconds about just what that might be.......
Nope, you're wrong. After Jenna got her staples out of her head on Tuesday morning (a worthy blog in itself), I took her to Panera to comfort her shredded heart with the healing powers of the "Panera Pumpkin Muffin" (herein to be known as "PPM"). And, I cannot lie, to administer caffeine to my tortured soul in the form of Panera Hazelnut coffee. So, we're just sitting there in our usual spot, Jen with her PPM and me with my PLFTBM (for those of you that have not yet mastered "Acronymology," that would be a "Panera Low-Fat-Triple-Berry Muffin) and PHC. All of a sudden, something very wrong occured. A piece of my PLFTBM somehow escaped from my mouth and went into my breathing tube. I breathed-in a PLFTBM morsel. I sat there hacking, tears rolling down my face, for about 3 solid minutes. People were starting to look. Jenna just watched because, really, it must be neat-o to see your mom choking on a muffin. Finally, I was able to breathe, but it's only because (and I'm sure of this) that the muffin moved into my lung. For the past few days, I've had raspy breath, and I'll-be-damned if it's not because of that crafty PLFTBM.
Moving on...
My driver's license is expired. WAY expired. Like, September of '06 expired. I haven't gotten it renewed for several reasons:
1) The house is on the market and I'm going to eventually move, so my address is going to change.
2) I recently got married, so why would i pay to update it before then?
3) I can't do it online, so i have to go to the DMV.
4) Have you SEEN the lines and jolly people that work at the DMV?
However, I finally have a real reason to update the damn thing: I can't buy alcoholic beverages. They won't sell to me if my id is expired. I don't understand HOW that makes a difference in the whole age-factor, but apparently, it does. I've found that one grocery store around here won't id me, so i've been shopping there more frequently.
Let's see...
I went to a cardio class yesterday. Yep, that pretty much cardio'd me out. The lady was all jumping around and singing along to the music, and I could think of nothing else but how if I had better aim, I'd throw my step at her cute little head, hoping that she'd fall into a coma, so I could stop and breathe. At the beginning of the class, we did 15 minutes of Abs. So we're doing "side-planks" aka ab-work of the devil, and she says, "Oh, hahahaha! Look at how my arms are shaking...guess I shouldn't have done a toning class before this! Tee hee!" Meanwhile, I'm looking at her with hate in my eyes, thinking, "My arms are shaking because they've never had to hold my fat ass up." There were old women that were keeping up better than me. I swear, Bea Arthur was in front of me, wearing short-shorts and a tight, black tank-top that said, "HOT." I was wearing yoga pants and a navy t-shirt that might as well have said, "I'm so out of shape, your grandma can kick my ass." But we're all in there for the same reason...right?
Geesh, I really could use a glass of SuperCock.
Nope, you're wrong. After Jenna got her staples out of her head on Tuesday morning (a worthy blog in itself), I took her to Panera to comfort her shredded heart with the healing powers of the "Panera Pumpkin Muffin" (herein to be known as "PPM"). And, I cannot lie, to administer caffeine to my tortured soul in the form of Panera Hazelnut coffee. So, we're just sitting there in our usual spot, Jen with her PPM and me with my PLFTBM (for those of you that have not yet mastered "Acronymology," that would be a "Panera Low-Fat-Triple-Berry Muffin) and PHC. All of a sudden, something very wrong occured. A piece of my PLFTBM somehow escaped from my mouth and went into my breathing tube. I breathed-in a PLFTBM morsel. I sat there hacking, tears rolling down my face, for about 3 solid minutes. People were starting to look. Jenna just watched because, really, it must be neat-o to see your mom choking on a muffin. Finally, I was able to breathe, but it's only because (and I'm sure of this) that the muffin moved into my lung. For the past few days, I've had raspy breath, and I'll-be-damned if it's not because of that crafty PLFTBM.
Moving on...
My driver's license is expired. WAY expired. Like, September of '06 expired. I haven't gotten it renewed for several reasons:
1) The house is on the market and I'm going to eventually move, so my address is going to change.
2) I recently got married, so why would i pay to update it before then?
3) I can't do it online, so i have to go to the DMV.
4) Have you SEEN the lines and jolly people that work at the DMV?
However, I finally have a real reason to update the damn thing: I can't buy alcoholic beverages. They won't sell to me if my id is expired. I don't understand HOW that makes a difference in the whole age-factor, but apparently, it does. I've found that one grocery store around here won't id me, so i've been shopping there more frequently.
Let's see...
I went to a cardio class yesterday. Yep, that pretty much cardio'd me out. The lady was all jumping around and singing along to the music, and I could think of nothing else but how if I had better aim, I'd throw my step at her cute little head, hoping that she'd fall into a coma, so I could stop and breathe. At the beginning of the class, we did 15 minutes of Abs. So we're doing "side-planks" aka ab-work of the devil, and she says, "Oh, hahahaha! Look at how my arms are shaking...guess I shouldn't have done a toning class before this! Tee hee!" Meanwhile, I'm looking at her with hate in my eyes, thinking, "My arms are shaking because they've never had to hold my fat ass up." There were old women that were keeping up better than me. I swear, Bea Arthur was in front of me, wearing short-shorts and a tight, black tank-top that said, "HOT." I was wearing yoga pants and a navy t-shirt that might as well have said, "I'm so out of shape, your grandma can kick my ass." But we're all in there for the same reason...right?
Geesh, I really could use a glass of SuperCock.
Apr 17, 2007
Why I don't work-out
"Mommy? We were supposed to go to the Y[M]CA this morning!"
"Yeah, I know."
"Well, why didn't we go? Why didn't we go to the Y[M]CA?"
"Because...we just didn't."
"Why?"
"Oh, I don't know...we slept late."
"Nooooooo...I watched 'Little Einsteins'" (it comes on at 7).
"Oh for God's sake. We didn't go to the YMCA because mommy's a big, fat, lazy butt!"
SILENCE.
No one wants to argue with that. I feel hurt.
"Yeah, I know."
"Well, why didn't we go? Why didn't we go to the Y[M]CA?"
"Because...we just didn't."
"Why?"
"Oh, I don't know...we slept late."
"Nooooooo...I watched 'Little Einsteins'" (it comes on at 7).
"Oh for God's sake. We didn't go to the YMCA because mommy's a big, fat, lazy butt!"
SILENCE.
No one wants to argue with that. I feel hurt.
Apr 16, 2007
Welcome to the Office Depot
Jenna, Jenna, Jenna...I swear to God, I should have named this kid 'Grace.' Yesterday, she fell off the new bunkbed and landed on the bar of the bed with her hip. Later, she fell off the barstool and hit the same hip, plus a shin. THEN, she's spinning around and tries to gallop away like a drunken pony, and runs into the foyer table. I knew it was bad when I heard the huge bang then silence.... I turned the corner and her mouth was open, but no sound. You guys all know what I'm talking about. Then the scream. I'm quite sure the electricity flashed. I was about to lecture her, then noticed the blood dripping out of her hair onto her shoulder. I took her in the bathroom, parted her hair and went, "Ewwwwww....THAT'S gonna need stitches." Once she heard that she went hysterical. Then I have Claire, in the middle of it all, chanting, "Jenna needs stitches, Jenna needs stitches!" I dragged Jenna out to the car, with her screaming all the while. Got to the ER, and proceeded to wait in triage for 2 hours. Got back there, the nurse looked at it, and said, "Yeah, that's gonna need some staples." Hysteria resumed. The ER was laughing though, because she was screaming, "Just GLUE it shut! I don't want staples in my head!!" The doctor took a look, and said, "Let's go into this other room..." and started walking back there. I took Jenna's hand and started walking. It took a nurse and myself to pull/push her into the room. THEN, it took 2 nurses, the doctor, and myself to wrap her burrito-style in a sheet, hold her down, and staple her head. Oh. THE. JOY.
Mar 27, 2007
So many words
Jenna and Claire are both in a funny "word" stage. Claire's into the "poo-poo/pee-pee/boobie/butt" stage, and Jenna is gravitating toward the "i'm-going-to-make-up-weird-names-and-keep-saying-different-stuff-until-I-make-you-grimace" stage.
Example: Clairey likes to yell "weiner" at the top of her lungs. She likes to call people "weiners," and she likes to point out that all things male have weiners. She loves to tell people that she has two new stepbrothers, and you know why they're boys? Because they have weiners. And all boys have weiners. It's like a bad scene out of Kindergarten Cop. I have told her that yelling "Weiner!!" in a crowded grocery store is not acceptable, and she tells me, "Yes, but I can say 'hot-dog weiner.'" --sigh-- So now, I get, "*hot-dog* [whispered] WEINER!!! [yelled]" or, "I love hot-dog weiners. I just love weiners." It very much reminds me of the "I love balls" phase that Jenna went through--I'll have to find that post and link to it.
Jenna, on the other hand, is just making up stuff. I'm sure you remember her offering me the "SuperCock" house wine. That was just the beginning. I was doing laundry yesterday, and overheard her having a conversation between her two "FurReal" friends (little slightly-animatronic animals that are kind of creepy). It was being carried out by a puppy and a kitten, and it went something like this:
kitten: "I love Puppy!"
puppy: "I love Pussy!"
kitten: "Mommy cat, I love Puppy. He is my best friend."
puppy: "Mommy cat, I love Pussy. She is my best friend."
Meanwhile, I'm stuffing dirty socks in my ears to shield myself from this. I simply told her that "pussy" isn't really a good word for a cat. "But I like 'pussy'," she says.
That's alright, her dad told me that this weekend, Pussy was calling Puppy "Sugarnuts."
Example: Clairey likes to yell "weiner" at the top of her lungs. She likes to call people "weiners," and she likes to point out that all things male have weiners. She loves to tell people that she has two new stepbrothers, and you know why they're boys? Because they have weiners. And all boys have weiners. It's like a bad scene out of Kindergarten Cop. I have told her that yelling "Weiner!!" in a crowded grocery store is not acceptable, and she tells me, "Yes, but I can say 'hot-dog weiner.'" --sigh-- So now, I get, "*hot-dog* [whispered] WEINER!!! [yelled]" or, "I love hot-dog weiners. I just love weiners." It very much reminds me of the "I love balls" phase that Jenna went through--I'll have to find that post and link to it.
Jenna, on the other hand, is just making up stuff. I'm sure you remember her offering me the "SuperCock" house wine. That was just the beginning. I was doing laundry yesterday, and overheard her having a conversation between her two "FurReal" friends (little slightly-animatronic animals that are kind of creepy). It was being carried out by a puppy and a kitten, and it went something like this:
kitten: "I love Puppy!"
puppy: "I love Pussy!"
kitten: "Mommy cat, I love Puppy. He is my best friend."
puppy: "Mommy cat, I love Pussy. She is my best friend."
Meanwhile, I'm stuffing dirty socks in my ears to shield myself from this. I simply told her that "pussy" isn't really a good word for a cat. "But I like 'pussy'," she says.
That's alright, her dad told me that this weekend, Pussy was calling Puppy "Sugarnuts."
Mar 21, 2007
Mar 6, 2007
In response
In response to a comment I recieved last week, mentioning the caloric count of a box of "Samoas" now, I believe, known as "Caramel deLites" Girl Scout cookies:
Calories: 1120
Total fat: 56g
Carbs: 152g
Wow, who knew Samoans were so evil?
Calories: 1120
Total fat: 56g
Carbs: 152g
Wow, who knew Samoans were so evil?
Mar 5, 2007
Notes from a business call
I have the best client in all the world:
Me: Oh, by the way, did I tell you I'm getting married on St. Patrick's Day?
CJ: Girl! SHUT UP!! No you're not!
Me: Oh yes, I am.
CJ: To that 'cutie-patootie' you introduced me to?
Me: That's the one...
CJ: MmmMmmmm...I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life sleeping next to THAT body.
Me: You said it, sister.
Me: Oh, by the way, did I tell you I'm getting married on St. Patrick's Day?
CJ: Girl! SHUT UP!! No you're not!
Me: Oh yes, I am.
CJ: To that 'cutie-patootie' you introduced me to?
Me: That's the one...
CJ: MmmMmmmm...I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life sleeping next to THAT body.
Me: You said it, sister.
A lot of instructions for a Monday
Instructions: In the list of books below, bold the ones you’ve read, italicize the ones you want to read, cross out the ones you won’t touch with a ten-foot pole, put a cross (+) in front of the ones on your book shelf, and asterisk (*) the ones you’ve never heard of. On some of them, I'm not sure if i'd read them or not, so i left them in normal font.
1. +The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. +Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. +To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. +The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. +The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. +The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. +Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. +A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. +Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. +Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. +Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. *A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. +Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. *Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. +The Stand (Stephen King)
19. +Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban(Rowling)
20. +Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. +The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. +The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. +Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. +The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. * Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. +Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie(Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. *Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. +1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. *The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. *The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True(Wally Lamb)
39. +The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. *The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. *The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible
46. +Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. +Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. +A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
3. *Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. +Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. *The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. +Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. *The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. +Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. *The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. +War and Peace (Tolstoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. *Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. *One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. +Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. +Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. *Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. +The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. *The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. +Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. *Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. +Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. *Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. +Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down(Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. *The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. *Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. *Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. *The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. *The Good Earth(Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. +White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. +The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. +Ulysses (James Joyce)
1. +The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. +Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. +To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. +The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. +The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. +The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. +Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. +A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. +Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. +Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. +Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. *A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. +Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. *Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. +The Stand (Stephen King)
19. +Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban(Rowling)
20. +Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. +The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. +The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. +Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. +The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. * Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. +Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie(Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. *Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. +1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. *The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. *The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True(Wally Lamb)
39. +The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. *The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. *The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible
46. +Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. +Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. +A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
3. *Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. +Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. *The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. +Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. *The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. +Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. *The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. +War and Peace (Tolstoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. *Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. *One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. +Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. +Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. *Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. +The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. *The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. +Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. *Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. +Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. *Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. +Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down(Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. *The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. *Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. *Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. *The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. *The Good Earth(Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. +White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. +The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. +Ulysses (James Joyce)
Mar 1, 2007
Golden Shower
First of all, let's all go over the inner-workings of a public toilet: First, the suck-down; wherein your peepee gets sucked down the drain. Second, the heavy flush--where the clean water super-charges into the drain to give it that extra "ooomph!" Are you with me? Yes? Good.
So, into the potty I go. I sit down and pee. Yes, you DO need to know that, as it will be of great importance about 3 sentences down. I'm minding my own business, just piddling in the potty. I finish, I wipe, I pull up my drawers and buckle. I lean over, scoot the "potty protector" into the potty, and flush. From here on, my life begins in slow motion. I see the peepee toilet paper and potty protector get sucked down the drain, then the super-charge kicks in, and everything goes right down the drain in one powerful tornadic motion, right? No, of course not. Because it's ME and shit happens to ME. Well, not literally (not THIS time). Instead of super-charging down the drain, the super-charged water somehow ricochets off the cardboard (and therefore, flushable) tampon applicator, and the next thing I know, I'm in the middle of my own personal rainshower. The water sprayed directly up and out of the toilet, and rained on me--the initial fountain of water narrowly missed my right eye and instead, hit me in the side of the head. Really...my life is TOO MUCH.
So, into the potty I go. I sit down and pee. Yes, you DO need to know that, as it will be of great importance about 3 sentences down. I'm minding my own business, just piddling in the potty. I finish, I wipe, I pull up my drawers and buckle. I lean over, scoot the "potty protector" into the potty, and flush. From here on, my life begins in slow motion. I see the peepee toilet paper and potty protector get sucked down the drain, then the super-charge kicks in, and everything goes right down the drain in one powerful tornadic motion, right? No, of course not. Because it's ME and shit happens to ME. Well, not literally (not THIS time). Instead of super-charging down the drain, the super-charged water somehow ricochets off the cardboard (and therefore, flushable) tampon applicator, and the next thing I know, I'm in the middle of my own personal rainshower. The water sprayed directly up and out of the toilet, and rained on me--the initial fountain of water narrowly missed my right eye and instead, hit me in the side of the head. Really...my life is TOO MUCH.
Feb 28, 2007
Let's be real
If the Girl Scouts were smart, they'd list the caloric content of Thin Mints by the sleeve. Let me help out all of you fellow Thin-Mint-eaters:
Serving Size: 1 sleeve
Calories:640
Fat: 32g
Carbs: 88
Serving Size: 1 sleeve
Calories:640
Fat: 32g
Carbs: 88
Feb 21, 2007
Like Mother, Like Daughter
Yesterday night, the chicks got into some kind of weird cleaning frenzy. They cleaned the playroom together, then Jenna went on to clean the "sleeping room," and the bathroom. She does this every once in a while, and it's very rarely that she can coerce Clairey into taking part in it. Claire, like most 3-year olds, makes more of a mess when trying to clean up then actually cleaning up. After each room was clean, I'd have to be led to that room (with my eyes closed), so the chicks could yell, "Surprise!" and show me what they had done. Wherein, I would act as if I had won a million dollars, and cover them in kisses to show how proud I was.
The way Jenna cleans up, is rather intriguing. Now, it's been well-publicized through this blog that I suffer (well, USED to suffer--yay for medication) from serious OCD. Gotta wonder if I've passed it on to the kid. In the playroom, she had all her "grasslands" animals lined up by type. Siberian tigers first--by size, then the regular tigers, then the leopards, then the feral cats. I actually don't know if they're feral, but since she says they live in the grasslands, lets say they are. Then I walked into the bathroom and saw this:
I asked Jen why she put everything on the side of the bathtub (these are what they play with in the bathtub--"real" tub toys?? WHY? They're quite happy with measuring spoons...). She replied, "Because this is how things go. First the circles, then the greens." NICE.
I just gave her a kiss, then walked back to the living room.
Jenna: She's something else.
Feb 20, 2007
Oh yea, Big Time
25 days and counting....
Wedding dress: check (still need shoes, boob lifter, and 3 ft trimmed off the bottom)
Hotel room for wedding night: check
Honeymoon: check
New camera: check (not that it has anything to do with the wedding, but it's another thing I'm excited about)
yee hee!!
Wedding dress: check (still need shoes, boob lifter, and 3 ft trimmed off the bottom)
Hotel room for wedding night: check
Honeymoon: check
New camera: check (not that it has anything to do with the wedding, but it's another thing I'm excited about)
yee hee!!
Feb 14, 2007
Open Letter
Dear Farmers of America,
Thank you for providing all of us Americans with healthy things to eat, like fresh fruit and vegetables. And to you ranchers: thanks for the beef--couldn't live without it. So, as I was eating my lunch, which comprised of lettuce and more lettuce, I was thinking, "Wow...this sure is 'lettucy." And I began thinking: there are tons of 'hybrid' fruits and vegetables (and probably cows), can you come up with another alternative for lettuce? I mean, there are different types of lettuce, but lets face it: They all taste GREEN. Can you come up with a lettuce that tastes like Frito pie? You can? Great. Get started.
Bless you,
Stephanie
Thank you for providing all of us Americans with healthy things to eat, like fresh fruit and vegetables. And to you ranchers: thanks for the beef--couldn't live without it. So, as I was eating my lunch, which comprised of lettuce and more lettuce, I was thinking, "Wow...this sure is 'lettucy." And I began thinking: there are tons of 'hybrid' fruits and vegetables (and probably cows), can you come up with another alternative for lettuce? I mean, there are different types of lettuce, but lets face it: They all taste GREEN. Can you come up with a lettuce that tastes like Frito pie? You can? Great. Get started.
Bless you,
Stephanie
Conversations with Jenna
[Driving home the other day, there were a bazillion birds flying through the air. It was very Hitchcockian. ]
Jenna: "MOM! Look at that herd of birds!"
Jenna: "MOM! Look at that herd of birds!"
Feb 13, 2007
Happy Valentines Day!
Or, if you prefer, "Happy Sweetest Day!" It's actually still the 13th--I'm just a bit early. It's 10:24 pm, and the chicks are just NOW asleep. Seriously, getting them to bed is easy. Getting them to go to sleep is very tough. I just snuck out to get everyone's V-day treats ready for tomorrow morning.
I'm tired and all I can think about is how I have laundry to do, and timesheets to submit. Isn't life a bitch?
I'm tired and all I can think about is how I have laundry to do, and timesheets to submit. Isn't life a bitch?
Who invented the speculum?
Because, seriously, they need their ass kicked. Every woman cringes when they hear this:
"Can you pass me the larger speculum, please? I can't see enough with this one."
Please. Please spread me as wide open as humanly possible because it's comfortable. About as comfortable as riding a boys bicycle then trying to hop up the curb and not making it and popping off the seat and landing directly onto said bar. Wait, it's even more uncomfortable than that.
And when the doctor says, "This is going to cramp a little," what she actually means is, "Hold on tight, because i'm going to put something that you can't see, up inside you, then it's going to pinch like a mother fucker."
If the doctor would just tell the truth, we all wouldn't get our hopes up about these "easy" procedures.
Good news: No cancer on the outside of the cervix. Now we wait for the internal report...
"Can you pass me the larger speculum, please? I can't see enough with this one."
Please. Please spread me as wide open as humanly possible because it's comfortable. About as comfortable as riding a boys bicycle then trying to hop up the curb and not making it and popping off the seat and landing directly onto said bar. Wait, it's even more uncomfortable than that.
And when the doctor says, "This is going to cramp a little," what she actually means is, "Hold on tight, because i'm going to put something that you can't see, up inside you, then it's going to pinch like a mother fucker."
If the doctor would just tell the truth, we all wouldn't get our hopes up about these "easy" procedures.
Good news: No cancer on the outside of the cervix. Now we wait for the internal report...
Food meme: 5 foods and what they mean to you
Five foods: what they mean to you, why you like them, why they're special, why everyone must try them, why you will eat them for the rest of your life. Go.
1. Artichokes. So random, right? Growing up, my mom always let us choose what to eat on our birthdays. I always chose artichokes. They're an expensive vegetable, so we never bought them on a regular basis. Everytime i eat one, i think of my special birthday meals. Artichokes are the cat's pajamas.
2. Raw potatoes. I will always pick them from the pot and crunch them raw. My favorite uncle was killed in a motorcycle wreck when I was in 5th grade. He and I used to hijack raw potato pieces from my grama when she was making mashed potatoes. I didn't really like them, but I wanted to be just like him, so i'd choke them down with a forced, "mmmmm!" I actually like them now, and they remind me of him.
3. Sushi. Sushi makes me happy. It reminds me of my mom and my sister, and special "girl" time. Now my girls eat sushi, and it's something that we carve out special time for.
4. Guinness. This is a heavy beer, so it counts as food, right? I've always loved Guinness, but it never meant anything to me other than a good buzz until a wonderful night at The Black Labrador, where over a pint of Guinness, I realized that I had found the love of my life. Now just the taste of it makes me smile.
5. Strawberry Jell-o pie. Another birthday thing. My mom used to make this pie, special, just for me. She still does it. :)
1. Artichokes. So random, right? Growing up, my mom always let us choose what to eat on our birthdays. I always chose artichokes. They're an expensive vegetable, so we never bought them on a regular basis. Everytime i eat one, i think of my special birthday meals. Artichokes are the cat's pajamas.
2. Raw potatoes. I will always pick them from the pot and crunch them raw. My favorite uncle was killed in a motorcycle wreck when I was in 5th grade. He and I used to hijack raw potato pieces from my grama when she was making mashed potatoes. I didn't really like them, but I wanted to be just like him, so i'd choke them down with a forced, "mmmmm!" I actually like them now, and they remind me of him.
3. Sushi. Sushi makes me happy. It reminds me of my mom and my sister, and special "girl" time. Now my girls eat sushi, and it's something that we carve out special time for.
4. Guinness. This is a heavy beer, so it counts as food, right? I've always loved Guinness, but it never meant anything to me other than a good buzz until a wonderful night at The Black Labrador, where over a pint of Guinness, I realized that I had found the love of my life. Now just the taste of it makes me smile.
5. Strawberry Jell-o pie. Another birthday thing. My mom used to make this pie, special, just for me. She still does it. :)
Feb 7, 2007
Search Words
Every once in a while, I'll check out my stat counter to see how many people are viewing the good 'ol blog, who's checking it out, etc. Another thing I can check, is what words people are "googling" that bring them to my blog. I present to you, exhibit A:
I think--okay, I hope--that you will find the 3 search terms that I find, well, frickin' weird.
1. "girls gone wild at home school pictures"
Okay, the "girls gone wild"--I can see that there could be searches for that. But the additon of "at home school pictures"?! You're nasty.
2. "please suggest me how can i see my sis boobs"
First off, if you're trying to figure out how to see your sister's boobs, you have a big problem (and so does your sister). You're inbred. Stop it now, and get some help. Secondly, I don't care if you're trying to use your manners, and say, "please." It's still disturbing. Again, get some help.
3. "women likin women's pee holes"
Um...wow. I'm actually stumped with this one.
I think--okay, I hope--that you will find the 3 search terms that I find, well, frickin' weird.
1. "girls gone wild at home school pictures"
Okay, the "girls gone wild"--I can see that there could be searches for that. But the additon of "at home school pictures"?! You're nasty.
2. "please suggest me how can i see my sis boobs"
First off, if you're trying to figure out how to see your sister's boobs, you have a big problem (and so does your sister). You're inbred. Stop it now, and get some help. Secondly, I don't care if you're trying to use your manners, and say, "please." It's still disturbing. Again, get some help.
3. "women likin women's pee holes"
Um...wow. I'm actually stumped with this one.
Feb 6, 2007
Jan 22, 2007
What's YOUR house wine?
~Me and the chicks were playing restaurant~
Jenna: What would you like to drink, ma'am?
Mommy: Hmmm...what do you have?
Jenna: We have Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, and Super Cock.
Mommy: What? What was that last one?
Jenna: Super Cock.
Mommy: "Super Cock?" What's that?
Jenna: It's our house wine.
Mommy: Wow. I'll have a glass of that.
Jenna: What would you like to drink, ma'am?
Mommy: Hmmm...what do you have?
Jenna: We have Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, and Super Cock.
Mommy: What? What was that last one?
Jenna: Super Cock.
Mommy: "Super Cock?" What's that?
Jenna: It's our house wine.
Mommy: Wow. I'll have a glass of that.
Jan 16, 2007
Pretty spot on
| ENFP - The Champion You scored 72% I to E, 21% N to S, 23% F to T, and 57% J to P! |
| Your type is known as the Champion type, which is part of the larger group called idealists. Nothing occurs that does not have some deep and ethical significance in your eyes. You see life as an exciting drama. You are very charismatic, yet tend to be too harsh on yourself for not being as genuine as you think you should be. 3% of the population shares your type. As a romantic partner, you need to talk about what is going on in your life. You are a strong supporter for your partner's efforts to grow and change and be happy. You need to feel that same support from your partner. Expressive, optimistic, and curious, you are eager to enjoy new experiences with your partner, whom you wish to be your confidant and soul mate, as well as play mate. You are uncomfortable sharing negative emotion, though, and tend to withdraw from confrontation and process your feelings privately. You feel most loved when your partner appreciates your creativity, accepts your uniqueness, and sees you as the compassionate person you are. You need to hear your partner tell you how much you mean to them and would love if they did thoughtful spontaneous things to demonstrate it. Your group summary: idealists (NF) Your type summary: ENFP |
My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The LONG Scientific Personality Test written by unpretentious2 on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test |
Jan 15, 2007
My fine is...$410.50
Here's how it works:
You don't have to confess your answers, just the amount of your fine. And NO, it is not PER incident otherwise, some of us would have totals more than the national debt!.
Bring up that calculator, and get to work!
Smoked pot -- $10
Did acid -- $5
Ever had sex at church -- $25
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you-- $40
Had sex with someone on MySpace -- $25
Had sex for money -- $100
Vandalized something -- $20
Had sex on your parents' bed -- $10
Beat up someone -- $20
Been jumped -- $10
Crossed dressed -- $10
Given money to stripper -- $25
Been in love with a stripper -- $20
Kissed some one who's name you didn't know -- $0.10
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work -- $15
Ever drive drunk -- $20
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $50
Used toys while having sex -- $30
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $20
Went skinny dipping -- $5
Had sex in a pool -- $20
Kissed someone of the same sex -- $10
Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $20
Cheated on your significant other -- $10
Masturbated -- $10
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend-- $20
Done oral -- $5
Got oral -- $5
Done / got oral in a car while it was moving -- $25
Stole something -- $10
Had sex with someone in jail -- $25
Made a nasty home video -- $15
Had a threesome -- $50
Had sex in the wild -- $20
Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $25
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $20
Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $20
Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $25
Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $50
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $25
Went streaking -- $5
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $15
Been arrested -- $5
Spent time in jail -- $15
Peed in the pool -- $0.50
Played spin the bottle -- $5
Done something you regret -- $20
Had sex with your best friend -- $20
Had sex with someone you work with at work -- $25
Had anal sex -- $80
Lied to your mate -- $5
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $25
Tally it up and Title it..."My Fine Is..."
(Yep, I've pee'd in a pool)
You don't have to confess your answers, just the amount of your fine. And NO, it is not PER incident otherwise, some of us would have totals more than the national debt!.
Bring up that calculator, and get to work!
Smoked pot -- $10
Did acid -- $5
Ever had sex at church -- $25
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you-- $40
Had sex with someone on MySpace -- $25
Had sex for money -- $100
Vandalized something -- $20
Had sex on your parents' bed -- $10
Beat up someone -- $20
Been jumped -- $10
Crossed dressed -- $10
Given money to stripper -- $25
Been in love with a stripper -- $20
Kissed some one who's name you didn't know -- $0.10
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work -- $15
Ever drive drunk -- $20
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $50
Used toys while having sex -- $30
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $20
Went skinny dipping -- $5
Had sex in a pool -- $20
Kissed someone of the same sex -- $10
Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $20
Cheated on your significant other -- $10
Masturbated -- $10
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend-- $20
Done oral -- $5
Got oral -- $5
Done / got oral in a car while it was moving -- $25
Stole something -- $10
Had sex with someone in jail -- $25
Made a nasty home video -- $15
Had a threesome -- $50
Had sex in the wild -- $20
Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $25
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $20
Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $20
Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $25
Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $50
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $25
Went streaking -- $5
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $15
Been arrested -- $5
Spent time in jail -- $15
Peed in the pool -- $0.50
Played spin the bottle -- $5
Done something you regret -- $20
Had sex with your best friend -- $20
Had sex with someone you work with at work -- $25
Had anal sex -- $80
Lied to your mate -- $5
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $25
Tally it up and Title it..."My Fine Is..."
(Yep, I've pee'd in a pool)
Jan 11, 2007
The Entertainment Factor
Last night, as we were all watching a "Little Einsteins" dvd, Clairey started clearing off the coffee table.
I sat and watched as she continued to move tv remotes and Pottery Barn catalogs to an end-table. When it was all clear, she got up on the table and started dancing and singing. Now, i have to let you know, I let the girls do this. They can ONLY get on the coffee table if they're dancing and singing. If they get up there, to, I don't know...sit, that's a no-no. No sitting on the coffee table allowed. If they get up there to stand at look at the room from a different view, that's a no-no, too. They are only allowed to get up there if dancing and singing is involved, because then it's not a coffee table--it's a STAGE. So, lil bit gets up there and she's busting a move, and periodically yelling to me, "I love you, girlfriend!" and "You're my girl!" and "My your girl!" aand i'm just laughing because she's so damn funny.
Then Jenna gets in on it. Next thing we know, we're surrounded by a litter of stuffed animal cats, and both girls are on the table singing us an operatic aria about how cats have a good life. Jenna always gets really into it--her voice was all soft and then she'd sing really high and fade out. Very dramatic. Man, those cats DO have a good life.
For about 30 minutes, the girls would run back and forth to the playroom, grabbing great groups of stuffed animals. I was treated to songs about cats, ponies, dinosaurs, and puppies. Then Clairey did a kind of rap about shaking her booty. It was all good. After they finished each performance, they'd run to the playroom, shouting, "Clap! Clap like you're at a show!" So I'd clap--I clapped as best I could with a wineglass in my hand.
At one point, the girls came running out of the playroom--each holding a babydoll. I was quickly informed that the dolls were "Baby Jesus" and that they were now serenading the Christ child. Clairey started out kind of fast, with the lyrics, "Baby Jesus sleeps in the hay! Baby Jesus sleeps in the haaaaaayyyyy!" But Jenna quickly corrected her, saying that if they're going to sing a song about baby Jesus, that it has to be a "soft" song, so both girls laid baby Jesus down on the table, got down on their knees, and solemnly looked at their baby Jesus', softly crooning, "Baby Jesus sleeps iiiiiinnnnn the haaaaaayyyyyy.....baby Jesuuuuuusssss sleeeeeeps in the haaaaayyyy...." They repeated this, oh, a hundred times or so. As they were running back off to the playroom, I asked Clairey, "So, tell me what you know about Jesus." And right on cue, she says, "He sleeps in the hay." hahahaha.
Unfortunately, I had to end the performance. It was bedtime.
I sat and watched as she continued to move tv remotes and Pottery Barn catalogs to an end-table. When it was all clear, she got up on the table and started dancing and singing. Now, i have to let you know, I let the girls do this. They can ONLY get on the coffee table if they're dancing and singing. If they get up there, to, I don't know...sit, that's a no-no. No sitting on the coffee table allowed. If they get up there to stand at look at the room from a different view, that's a no-no, too. They are only allowed to get up there if dancing and singing is involved, because then it's not a coffee table--it's a STAGE. So, lil bit gets up there and she's busting a move, and periodically yelling to me, "I love you, girlfriend!" and "You're my girl!" and "My your girl!" aand i'm just laughing because she's so damn funny.
Then Jenna gets in on it. Next thing we know, we're surrounded by a litter of stuffed animal cats, and both girls are on the table singing us an operatic aria about how cats have a good life. Jenna always gets really into it--her voice was all soft and then she'd sing really high and fade out. Very dramatic. Man, those cats DO have a good life.
For about 30 minutes, the girls would run back and forth to the playroom, grabbing great groups of stuffed animals. I was treated to songs about cats, ponies, dinosaurs, and puppies. Then Clairey did a kind of rap about shaking her booty. It was all good. After they finished each performance, they'd run to the playroom, shouting, "Clap! Clap like you're at a show!" So I'd clap--I clapped as best I could with a wineglass in my hand.
At one point, the girls came running out of the playroom--each holding a babydoll. I was quickly informed that the dolls were "Baby Jesus" and that they were now serenading the Christ child. Clairey started out kind of fast, with the lyrics, "Baby Jesus sleeps in the hay! Baby Jesus sleeps in the haaaaaayyyyy!" But Jenna quickly corrected her, saying that if they're going to sing a song about baby Jesus, that it has to be a "soft" song, so both girls laid baby Jesus down on the table, got down on their knees, and solemnly looked at their baby Jesus', softly crooning, "Baby Jesus sleeps iiiiiinnnnn the haaaaaayyyyyy.....baby Jesuuuuuusssss sleeeeeeps in the haaaaayyyy...." They repeated this, oh, a hundred times or so. As they were running back off to the playroom, I asked Clairey, "So, tell me what you know about Jesus." And right on cue, she says, "He sleeps in the hay." hahahaha.
Unfortunately, I had to end the performance. It was bedtime.
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