6th Circle of Hell, or Post Office Madness

I had a few errands to run this morning, so once I peeled myself out of bed, I gathered myself into what resembled a respectable appearance (meaning I actually washed my face) and I was off.

I picked up a caramel mach at the 'Bux, and mosied over for a pedi. After that I headed to the mall to Bath and Body Works to pick up my check from my part time job, and spend some monies. Onward to the bank to deposit said check, and then off to Tarjay to get some weenie candy.

I was feeling pretty good about the fact that I had accomplished so much, so I decided to head home and get some more laundry done. I pulled into my driveway, gathered my belongings, and headed to the mailbox. Nothing spectacular, a couple of bills, my Williams Sonoma catty, which is always a good time, and some junk.

I headed up to my house. And that's when I saw it. The subpoena of torture. Stuffed so nonchalantly into the crevice between my door and the door jamb. My decree of execution. I had missed a delivery of an Express Package from the United States Post Office. BUT - I could come pick it up! Just head down to the good ole PO! And so, I did.

Let me just say that I don't think the post office is terrible, per se; I do think that the majority of the clientele were dropped on their heads, repeatedly, as infants.

And today was no different.

I get there at 2:15. They close at 3:00. I am probably fifth in line. Not bad, right? These PO employees are rockin through people. Getting them in, out and on their way. I was getting glad in my pants! I'm gonna get out of here in a reasonable.....screech! What's that? Oh! Dumbass, party of one, two people in front of me.

He gets called to the counter and the ensuing conversation went like this:

Postal Worker: Can I help you?
Mr. Out on a Day Pass: I got this notice in the mail that I have a package and need to pick it up.
PW: Do you have the notice with you sir?
Mr. Clueless: No, but I can give you my address.
PW: Sure. (She grabs a piece of paper) Go ahead.
Mr. Should Have Taken His Meds: Uh..let's see...16100 SW Sorry Ass Excuse for a Human Lane, Tigard.
PW: Is that 97223, or 97224? We have two zip codes for Tigard.
Mr. How Does This Man Function in Society: Uh - uh......um....ooh. Uh - how about let's try 97223. That should be it.

Conversation in my head: SHOULD be it? You don't know your own freaking ZIP CODE? Are you kidding me? This is going to be great blog fodder!

PW: OK sir, I will go look, I'll be right back
Mr. Dumbass: OK.

Postal Worker goes to look for package, but I am suspecting it wasn't a Herculean effort, if you know what I mean.

PW: I am sorry sir, I cannot find it. Do you remember what box was marked on the notice? Was it a letter, parcel, package, box? (Hands him a sample notice and he looks it over)
Mr. Holy Shit, Could He Be Any Stupider: Ummm...let's go with package.

At this point folks, the line is starting to get annoyed. Why in the HELL do people insist on wasting other people's time by not coming to the game prepared? WHY? So this time, the conversation wasn't in my head, it was out of my mouth: "Let's go with? How about let's go with go get the damn notice!" The guy in front of me chuckles. Asshat at the counter doesn't even turn around at this point. I think he could feel the gamma rays of death that the people in line were shooting him. Oh - and the best part? It's 2:40 now. Seriously!

PW: I am sorry sir, I cannot find it without the number on the notice.
Mr. Needs a Kevlar Vest to Leave the Building at This Point: Oh. Well, ok, it's really not a big deal I guess. I can go home and see if I can find the notice. Thanks!

Dum dum leaves without a single glance at anyone in line. Good luck in the parking lot buddy, I'm pretty sure I saw someone heading out there with a blanket and a baseball bat.

So I finally get my package and go home. Where I decided to blog the entire experience. Cause it was SO incredibly unbelievable.

But you know what they say: Truth is stranger than fiction!

Et Tu, McDonald's?

It's been one of those months here. One obstacle after another. I'm a bit stressed at work (mostly due to the workload, partly due to the fact that I HATE what I am doing). Granted, I don't hate everything I am doing, but I do hate some parts of it.

So today being a particularly crappy day, what with SO annoying co-workers and crappy service from one of our wholesalers, I decided McDonald's was in order for lunch. I know, bad girl. But sometimes, I just want some goddamned french fries, OK?

So I go. I ordered the Chicken Selects meal and a diet Dr. Pepper. Go ahead, roll your eyes now. So I get my order and go back to my office. I unpack the fries (YUM!) and the chicken selects. I then dump my box of fries in the top compartment of my chicken selects box. And that's when I see it. The fry box has a Nutrition label on it.

What. The. Fuck.

McDonalds is comfort food. Food you KNOW is bad for you but that every once in a while, you just need to have. I don't NEED the nutrition facts. I already know that I have most certainly eaten my week's worth of carbs and fat halfway through that box o' fries. I don't need to SEE that I've done it. It's like going through a haunted house with the lights on. Yeah, I know that actors are fake, but do I really need to have it spelled out for me? No.

So I propose that Mickey D's do us all a favor - or at least the ones who don't frequent the place. (Which would exclude all the whiskey tango people that think eating there is a night out) Offer the "Eyes Wide Open" or "Eyes Wide Shut" value option. I'd like mine shut please.

Thank you.

I'm Surrounded By Idiots

I swear sometimes that my doctor doesn't listen to me. I have repeatedly let them know what our plan is for getting knocked up again. Clomid, ultrasound monitoring, HCG trigger shot, and then insemination.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

So why is it that every single time I call, she's trying to throw something else at me? She mentioned injectables, we decided we don't want to go that route quite yet. Next thing I know, I am getting a call from IVFMeds.com letting me know my meds are ready to ship. The convo was fabulous.

Me: Meds? I didn't order any meds from you.
IVF: No, your doctor called it in for you.
Me: Well, I don't know why she did that, we have decided not to go that route right yet
IVF: Well, I'll just put them on hold for you...
Me: No, go ahead and cancel them. I won't be ordering them.
IVF: (with a decidedly nastier tone in her voice) Look, I'm just the middle man. I'm just saying that I'll put them on hold....
Me: (with a decidedly nastier tone in my voice) Well, I don't care who you are. I asked you nicely to just cancel the order. You can hold it until the cows come home, we aren't going that route. And by the way, if we ever DO decide to go that route, I sure as HELL will not be ordering from you.
**CLICK**

Really? Seriously? This is who IVF Meds has representing them? Gah!

So I call my doctor, and explain for what seems like the eleventy billionth time, that we are not going that route.

I know right now you are probably thinking - get a new doc! A-ha! If it were only that easy! See, my insurance doesn't cover fertility. They cover elective abortions, but not fertility. They'll cover you if your kid has a kid, but not fertility. They'll cover effing VIAGRA for crying out loud, but they don't cover fertility. Can ya tell it chaps my ass a bit?

So, this is the only RE in the area that accepts my insurance (what she can bill, she does, like diagnostic ultrasounds, lab work, etc.), and so I go to her.

So that's my story.

So far.

A little catchup time

So I was just reading over my old posts and realized that I really need to catch you up on what's been going on.

So yeah, last we left the happy couple, they had finally managed to get knocked up. Three years of waiting and they were pregnant! Oh, and they were moving back to Phoenix. But (insert sinister music here) not for long.

So we went back to Phoenix, and things were going great. Until, that is, my January checkup appointment with the OB. He couldn't find the heartbeat, and after ultrasound confirmation, we discovered that we had lost the baby. Heartbreaking as it was then, and still is, Chris and I have given it up to God and moved on.

In March, we loaded up the moving truck (again) and relocated to Portland. Land of the Ports. And the lagers and the stouts and the ales.

So here we are - in the rainy PNW. And getting ready to go another round of IUI.

I guess that's it. Stay tuned for more.

And we're on in three...two..one.

So after a lot of consideration and some good thoughts from my sister, I decided to reopen the blog. The miscarriage that Chris and I suffered in January was probably one of the hardest things we have ever had to face as a married couple, and I think we came through it with flying colors.

So now I have decided to journal and share about this struggle with infertility. As most of you know, I have a quick wit and a sharp tongue, so if you are easily offended, well, then you must not be one of my friends, cause them bitches don't give a.....

Oh yeah, family show.

So if you want to read of the sometimes humorous, sometimes heartbreaking journey that my husband and I are on trying to produce a youngin, then read on fellow member. Read on.

If not, I don't need your comments, or your opinions. It's MY blog, which means I get to post what I want to. So neener.

**wink**

Checking In - 10 Weeks

So I am at 10 weeks, 5 days. The fatigue is starting to subside. The nausea is also starting to subside. I still, however, cannot eat a full meal at one sitting. I have to space out the food. This whole drinking 8 glasses of water a day thing has me irritated. I need to buy some flavored water. That will get it in me faster. I just don't like plain water. Never have.

Chris and I bought some baby blankets. We also bought some onesies. We were at Carter's and they were having a 50% off everything in the store sale. We won't find out what we are having until the beginning of March, so we went neutral with the blankets.

We had our first ultrasound on December 13th, so I got to see the baby's heartbeat as an early birthday present! It was beating at 143. And yes, there is only one in there.

We go on Wednesday 1/10 for my next check-up. Hopefully we'll be able to hear the baby's heartbeat.

That's all for now. Stay tuned.

It's Official. I am Knocked Up!

Fertility and the reproductive system of the female body are my specialty. No, I am not a doctor, I am simply a female who has been dealing with secondary infertility for three years. I know more about the cycle and process of getting pregnant and staying pregnant then I ever thought possible.

I also knew going in to our insemination on Monday November 6th, 2006, that our chances of conceiving were slim to none. Or 12% if you want scientific fact. So when I plodded downstairs to take a pregnancy test on Wednesday November 22nd, 2006, I was fully expecting a BFN. That's Big Fat Negative to you fertile folk.

So for what seemed like the eleventy billionth time, I peed on a stick, placed it on the counter, and finished doing what I needed to do. I got up, turned to look (it wasn't even 30 seconds later) and there it was. A BFP. (Big F-ing Positive. Cause at this point, you use the F word). I couldn't even believe my own eyes. I swear I stood there looking at it for at least three hours. But it was only a few minutes. After years of trying and a solid 5 months of poking, prodding, and various medical crapola, we had effing done it!! 12% chance of getting pregnant on the first try and lo and EFFING behold, we did it!!!

I raced upstairs to my still-sleeping husband (have I mentioned it was 6:00 AM?) and threw the lights on. By this time I am a blubbering idiot. "WE FREAKING DID IT!!" I am screaming at the poor guy, who is still trying to adjust to the overhead glare. "HOLY SHIT! We freaking did it!!" Chris had a huge grin on his face, he looked at the stick and said "Well look at that."

Fast forward to 7:00 AM when I made him take me to CVS to buy another test. I bought a two-pack and thank the good Lord above that I did, cause I screwed the first one up. Yeah, yeah, don't ask me how, I just DID. So now I had to wait until I had to pee again to take the last one. It was a digital test, and the word "PREGNANT" came up within thirty seconds.

We did it. We effin did it.

Last Stand at the OK Corral

Today was my last official day at work. It just completely snuck up on me. Three weeks ago I was looking at my last day and thinking it was so far off, and now Turkey Day is a mere 5 days away.

It was a bittersweet day today. I went to my last Staff Standup Meeting. I met with my boss and the new Corporate Sales Manager, and our other Manager to "pass the torch". I wrote ONE more contract today. I cleared out the office. My co-workers took me to lunch and then got me an ice cream cake. Then I made the rounds and started the semi-painful process of saying good bye.

There will be a lot I will miss about my time at the Hotel. There will be some things I will NOT miss. Overall, it was tough to leave, but a big relief all at the same time.

We Go Live in Three...Two...One...

Chris left this morning. He got on a plane and headed out west sucka! I don't know why, but I always have to say 'sucka' when I say 'headed out west'.

He called me just a minute ago and said the words I knew he would eventually say. "There's no way we can live with my parents. They have too much stuff!" In the interest of maintaining a positive relationship with his parents, and having a little privacy, we're going to (GASP) Rent An Apartment!!!

OMG! I feel like I am 19 again and have to rent because I can't afford a house. Sweet Mary. I guess I have to keep reminding myself that we OWN a house. We just haven't been able to SELL the house.

However, now I have something big to look forward to. Our own place. Somewhere where I can unpack all of my stuff. And make it my own.

Look for me in the Valley at an apartment complex near you.

They Took My Car...Again

So part of the whole relo package with the company is that they ship one car. Which is fine, because Chris and I are actually looking forward to driving across the country. Again. After all, the first time we did it, we may have just missed something. Though I doubt it.

Such was my story this morning. After another fitful night with no sleep (I just do NOT sleep well when my husband is not here), I woke at about three in the morning to the pounding of the rain on the roof. It always rains when we move. When we moved from Phoenix to San Diego, it POURED on the drive over. When we moved from San Diego to Connecticut, it POURED for eight straight days. And now we are getting ready to leave and it is POURING. I am seeing a pattern, though I am not quite sure yet what it means.

I had received a phone call from the auto shippers last night stating that my pickup would be between 9:00 and 12:00. Okie dokie. So here I sat, watching the rain, waiting for my car to be picked up. At around 11:20 (of course), I saw the mini carrier pull up. As I stood in the rain, waiting for him to finish the paperwork, so that I could get to work, it hit me.

We're moving.

I was at once anxious, and excited, and nervous. My palms started sweating and I felt dizzy. Should we really be leaving before the house is settled? I mean, it was ok when we lived in San Diego, because Phoenix was only an hour plane ride. Now we will be 5 hours away. And two time zones. It's all quite overwhelming.

I take a deep breath. It's only the start.

I'm BACK!

So I've decided that I'm going to keep up with this thing. I need a creative outlet and this one affords me the opportunity to do just that.

So what's been happening....let me think. Oh yeah! We're MOVING BACK TO PHOENIX!!!

We are so very thrilled to be moving back, we never thought we would be. However, the move will afford us some opportunities that we wouldn't have had here in Connecticut. And we are very excited about that. Add in the fact that Chris and I met, fell in love and were married in Phoenix, well, that's a big plus. And then there is all of our friends and family that is in Phoenix. Which is a huge plus.

The pros definitely outweight the cons on this one.

Fertility

Is a long and arduous journey. And one that I never in my life imagined that I would EVER be going on. However, a series of unfortunate events has led me down this path of blood tests and ultrasounds, Clomid and Ovidrel.

It is what it is and both Chris and I seem to have accepted that, both of us determined to do what it takes to get through this and get what we want. I guess that's half the battle.

What the Hell Is Going On Around Here?

I look at the date of my last entry and think - am I really that busy? Is there really no time for me to do one little humourous entry into my online journal? Or is it that maybe the magic is gone? Yes, that could be it, the magic has disappeared from this online thing.

So I will simply say not to expect too much from me for a while. I am in a creative funk. I went into my scrap studio last night and tried to create. Nothing.

Golf

I have not played the game of golf for very long. In fact, the last time I actually played was when we still lived in Phoenix, a good two years ago.

So when I had the chance to play in a charity golf tournament with my husband and two of our friends, I jumped at the chance. Especially since it was for charity and there was really no pressure on me to perform well.

We arrived at the golf course at 8:40 am on Friday, ready to smack some balls around. I had my clubs, some new shoes, and pretty pink balls. Let me tell you how excited I am about these balls! They have a clear plastic cover, which gives the pink on the inside a depth that just is a visual masterpiece. Seriously, I was impressed with my golf balls!

At 10:00 am, we finally got off to start the tournament. It was a scramble format with a shotgun start, and our team started on hole dos. That's two for all of you gringos. The men tee'd off and we women stood back and admired their strength! Woo hoo! We were off to a good start.

Hole three was interesting as one of the guys in our group (coughcoughAARONcoughcough) was trying to chip onto the green, a mere 5 yards away, and swung for the fences, clearing the golf course and scaring the bejeesus out of some soccer mom in her mini van on the road adjacent to the course. On a side note, I wonder how many golf balls these people who live in the houses surrounding the course find in their yards on any given day. I know two of them will find some pretty pink balls in the backyard soon. Moving on.

As the day wore on and the beer girl realized we were her best customers, we started getting fatigued. I did well overall, for not having golfed in so long. Chris did well, Steph did well, even Aaron did well. We had a good time, really. Mulligans and birdies abounded, beer flowed freely, there was some crazy golf cart antics thrown in for good measure, and tons of sexual harassment on the links.

Just another good day at the golf course.

Springtime in New England

Chris and I left San Diego on a beautiful Southern California day. The weather was fantastic, the breeze warm and beautiful off of the Pacific. The sky was blue with soft puffy clouds.

We arrived in New England a week later, October 1st to be exact, on a blustery, rainy fall day. It was dreary, windy and wet. The sky was gray. We had to make a trip to the mall to gear up for this crisp fall, since we hadn't packed accordingly, and our stuff would not be able to be unpacked until our house was bought and moved in to, a good thirty days away. We were bunking down at the hotel, and there wasn't a whole lot of room.

We moved into our house on November 1st. The leaves were a beautiful red and orange blur, and started falling en masse. By Thanksgiving, we had our first snowfall. We hibernated for the winter. It's difficult to do anything productive outside when you have spent the better part of the last 15 years in two climates that allowed for shorts and t-shirts year round.

So with a few false starts and teaser days, we actually broke into spring for good this week. Suddenly, we were renewed. We've bought flowers and plants for the yard. We bought new patio furniture for the deck. We gave the house a thorough spring cleaning today.

Chris and I sat on our deck tonight, admiring the cool Spring night air. We can honestly say that we are finally feeling like this is a place we can live in for a while. Mid-winter, we were planning for warmer climates. Right now, we're thinking this isn't that bad.

Of course, summer and humidity, two things that are by now foreign to us, are only days away.

Slacking

On a whim and in between phone calls and meetings today I decided to revisit my Blog. Then I realized I haven't blogged in over a month. Well, ok, it's a DAY over a month, but it has still been a while.

So let me catch you up really really quick:

Work, work, work, Puerto Rico, work, work.

Yup, we snuck a quick weekend to PR in there. Chris' birthday was May 3rd and I decided to take him on down. Well, he hooked up the plane tix, and I, well, *I* hooked us up FAT with a hotel room....POOLSIDE....in PR.

Puerto Rico is a beautiful island, full of beautiful, friendly people. They all are bilingual to some extent, with most of them being able to easily transfer between Spanish and English. Even that nice man who insisted on bringing me Midori Pina Coladas (and anyone at our Memorial Day BBQ Bash will get to taste those) and on bringing Chris DonQ and cokes while we lounged poolside for three days was a gem. Nelson was his name. His Spanish was impeccable and his English was really good.

Chris and I did what any fun loving American couple would do while on a short vacation. We sunned. Oh, we did some touristy stuff, but mostly laid by the pool and lounged. And drank. And tanned. And drank. And lounged.

It was a nice preview to our Jamaica vacation...in T-minus 4 months one week and one day....and counting.

Cold - Crossfade

Looking back at me I see
That I never really got it right
I never stopped to think of you
I'm always wrapped up in
Things I cannnot win
You are the antidote that gets me by
Something strong
Like a drug that gets me high

What I really meant to say
Is I'm sorry for the way I am
I never meant to be so cold to you

And I'm sorry about all the lies
Maybe in a different light
You could see me stand on my own again
Cause now i can see
You were the antidote that got me by
Something strong like a drug that got me high
I never meant to be so cold

I never really wanted you to see
The screwed up side of me that I keep
Locked inside of me so deep
It always seems to get to me
I never really wanted you to go
So many things you should have known
I guess for me theres just no hope
I never meant to be so cold

Busy Like A...

Like a what? Why does everyone always say "Bee"? Bees are pre-programmed to be busy, doing busy work. I wouldn't exactly call what I do "busy work". Yes, I am busy DOING my work, but it is always keeping me on my toes. Things can ebb and flow and the tide can change at any given moment. One minute, I am bored out of my skull and the next I am so busy that my desk looks like a filing system organized by a three year old.

There's a lot of thanklessness in the position I am in. Not so much from the clients, but from the management. Fortunately, I can lay my head down at night knowing that I did a good job. However, words of encouragement tend to motivate people, and sometimes a simple "Good Job" or a "Thank You" would suffice. The funny thing is that the management has been heard "thanking" those who are more pretty, or younger, or who have bigger boobs. Yup, I said it. And now it's out there. I'm not saying this person didn't deserve an enthusiastic "Great job" for a flyer she spent the better half of the day on (when my 12 year old could have whipped it out in about twenty minutes), but I am saying that the preferential treatment is a sight to behold.

As are the boobs.

I wonder if my husband will get me that boob job now.

It's The Little Things

I am a very visual person. It's a fact that most people find surprising about me because of my creative ability. And my creative ability usually entails the ability to visualize things in your head before putting them into reality. I am not one of those people who can go at something with no forethought and come out with a Picasso.

I tend to need to see something before I can quantify it. Take, for example, when I am reading a book. I can visualize the characters, visualize the setting. I have to, or else the mainstay of the story fades quickly and I lose interest. I can do this irregardless of whether or not the author has done a good job with the visual alliteration. I'll even sometimes change what the author wants me to see, if only because it makes more sense in my head.

I am an event planner. I plan parties, showers, and weddings. I will talk with my clients and doodle, sketch and make notes as I am talking with them. I draw out what they are saying to me, so that there is not much room for error. Sometimes I am completely off-base. However, 90% of the time, I am right on.

Take for example this weekend. I met with a mother planning her daughter's baby shower. As we stood in the room, talking about what she wanted where, I was sketching it on my pad. She took one look at it, and said, Yes! That's it!

I also met with a couple planning their wedding. I mentioned things to them that they hadn't thought of (which completely amazes me, considering my own OCD and control issues, but that's fodder for another blog), and one of them turns to me and says "You should do this professionally."

Cue the crickets chirping in the stunned silence.

I thought I was doing this professionally. I mean, I get a paycheck every two weeks. I plan and replan and plan again. I check and double-check every little detail. I may not be J-Lo with the headset and the apron full of pharmaceuticals, but I still do this professionally.

So I went home with a sense of accomplishment on Saturday. I had upgraded the Baby Shower, and booked a nice little wedding. I told my husband about the comment and he just chuckled and said "Well, maybe it's a springboard for something you can do as your own business!" Just what I needed to hear. Then he high-fived me.

He so gets me.

Scars

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut
My weakness is that I care too much
And my scars remind me that the past is real
I tear my heart open just to feel

Drunk and I'm feeling down
And I just wanna be alone
I'm pissed cause you came around
Why don't you just go home
Cause you channel all your pain
And I can't help you fix yourself
You're making me insane
All I can say is

[Chorus:]I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut
My weakness is that I care too much
And our scars remind us that the past is real
I tear my heart open just to feel

I tried to help you once
Against my own advice
I saw you going down
But you never realized
That you're drowning in the water
So I offered you my hand
Compassions in my nature
Tonight is our last stand

[Chorus]

I'm drunk and I'm feeling down
And I just wanna be alone
You shouldn't ever come around
Why don't you just go home?
Cause you're drowning in the water
And I tried to grab your hand
And I left my heart open
But you didn't understand
But you didn't understand

Go fix yourself

I can't help you fix yourself
But at least I can say I tried
I'm sorry but I gotta move on with my own life
I can't help you fix yourself
But at least I can say I tried
I'm sorry but I gotta move on with my own life

Right Here Waiting

I know I've been mistaken
But just give me a break and see the changes that I've made
I've got some imperfections
But how can you collect them all and throw them in my face

But you always find a way to keep me right here waiting
You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting
And if you chose to walk away I'd still be right here waiting
Searching for the things to say to keep you right here waiting

I hope you're not intending
To be so condescending it's as much as i can take
and you're so independent
you just refuse to bend so I keep bending till I break
But you always find a way to keep me right here waiting
You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting
And if you chose to walk away I'd still be right here waiting
Searching for the things to say to keep you right here waiting

I've made a commitment
I'm willing to bleed for you
I needed fulfillment
I found what I need in you

Why can't you just forgive me
I don't want to relive all the mistakes I've made along the way
But I always find a way to keep you right here waiting
I always find the words to say to keep you right here waiting
But you always find a way
To keep me right here waiting
You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting
And if I chose to walk away would you be right here waiting
Searching for the things to say to keep me right here waiting

It All Felt Good

Remember my Patience and Timing post? If not, just scroll on down to the post under this one, and you'll see what I am talking about.

Well, my patience has paid off. I landed what I am anticipating will be the most fun and exciting job I have had. Ever.

I am finally at the point in my career where I can, well, focus on MY career. For six years I have been following my husband around the country in pursuit of his career. He is now at a place he wants to be, in a position he wants to be in. Enough so, that we can finally turn our attention to me and my career.

I have always wanted a job that is fun, creative, and fulfilling. And until now, I didn't think that I could get all of that. I'm not saying it's all sunshine and roses, because no job is like that. What I am saying is that this job will allow me to express myself, and be very social, and plan PARTIES, which, if you are ANY friend of mine, know that's something I like to do. And if you ARE any friend of mine, then you have most likely attended one of my parties, and you know they can be pretty fun!

So my patience paid off, the timing couldn't be better. And when I accepted the job, it all felt good.

Patience and Timing

Patience and timing. Two things that inevidably go hand in hand more often than not. When you are waiting for something, be it an answer, a job, or the UPS man, it's all about patience and timing.

Right now I am in the throes of a full-fledged panic attack that I may have done more harm than good to my career by choosing my current assignment. I say assignment because it is a temp thing. I am not a permanent employee, and I have not pushed the issue to become permanent, even tho it is past the time when I was promised that I would. I am five weeks into this assignment.

And lo, on the horizon, is an opportunity that was just TOO good to pass up. The details of which can be summed up by saying "Right place, right time."

I have met with the powers that be regarding this opportunity. Twice. I am now waiting. Patiently.

OK, maybe not so patiently. What choice do I have, however, in a world where noone's sense of urgency is by any means greater than your own?

I sent a follow up email yesterday, since the key decision maker was out last week on a business trip. You know how that goes, out of sight, out of mind? So I put myself back IN mind.

And yet, here I still wait. Relying on another to help to springboard my career back on to the path where I want it to be.

Right now, I consider my career on a "holiday".

Hold On

Hold On
Wilson-Phillips

I know this pain
Why do lock yourself up in these chains?
No one can change your life except for you
Don't ever let anyone step all over you
Just open your heart and your mind
Is it really fair to feel this way inside?

chorus:
Some day somebody's gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Don't you know?
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can you hold on for one more day
Things'll go your way
Hold on for one more day

You could sustain
Or are you comfortable with the pain?
You've got no one to blame for your unhappiness
You got yourself into your own mess
Lettin' your worries pass you by
Don't you think it's worth your time
To change your mind?

chorus

I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and
Break free the chains
Yeah I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and you
Break free, break from the chains
Some day somebody's gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Don't you know?
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day yeah
If you hold on

Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day,
If you hold on
Can you hold on
Hold on baby
Won't you tell me now
Hold on for one more day
'Cause
It's gonna go your way
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can't you change it this time
Make up your mind
Hold onHold on
Baby hold on

Overheard While Living My Life

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Another Year Come and Gone

So I have made the round of my life cycle for another year, and here I find myself back at the starting point that is my birthday.

I am getting ready to complete my 34th year on earth, and begin the journey of my 35th. I look back on the last year of my life and realize SO much has happened. I started this year with a great job, a wonderful group of friends, and a general sense of peace and well-being in my universe. I have experienced profound joy, happiness, sadness, tragedy and sorrow. I saw devastation, wedding bliss, death of a loved one and making a cross-country move.

And through all of this, I have become a stronger, more secure and independant person. My marriage has become more comfortable, and I am blessed to have such a wonderful man with whom to spend my life.

My son is becoming a more thoughtful and sensitive individual, and I like to think that it is because of a joint effort from all of his parents.

In all fairness, my life is not always sunshine and roses. There are days when I am so disjointed I want to cry. But those days are not outnumbered by the days in which I wake up every morning and thank God that I am alive, and healthy, and that I have the best group of friends and family in my life that anyone could or would ask for.

Thank you God, for another year.

Do You Have a Minute?

This is going to be another post about my absolutely gorgeous son. But it is also going to include some pics of my equally adorable nephew.

Thanksgiving was at my house this weekend, with the kickoff start of the snow we woke up to on the ground on Thursday morning. I remember my alarm going off, and stumbling downstairs to start the coffee. I looked around at my kitchen, making small mental notes as to what needed to be finished before the weekend feast.

I realized that there were some tools on the kitchen table that needed to be put back in the garage, and decided to take them out. As I looked outside, I had to focus and make my mind believe what my eye was seeing. SNOW! A good two inches! I raced upstairs, recreating the sound of an elephant stampede, raced into the bedroom, and pulled up the blinds. "BONE!" I said "LOOK!" Chris, without even sitting up, said "We got snow, didn't we?" And yes, kids, yes, we did.

Here's the boy, playing in the snow, throwing snowballs and making a snowman. He was in all of his ever-loving glory!

He absolutely could not get enough of the snow. And the hot chocolate with marshmallows that I made sure was waiting for him when he was finished.

We had a fabulous Thanksgiving, lots of fun and family, and an all-out blast of a snowball fight right before dinner. Chris made snowballs for the kids while they attacked me, my sister, her boyfriend, my mom and dad! We all laughed so hard! It was by far one of the best Thanksgivings we've had in a long time.

The boys had a great time, and Kristofer taught Logan how to play basketball on Playstation2. We all stood in the living room and cheered while my nephew made dunk after dunk and thought he was the coolest thing since Kareem Abdul-Jabar!

I love my two boys. My son and my nephew.

And I love my family.

It was certainly a Happy Thanksgiving.

Look at these faces - would they lie to you?

Fall In New Englad

Doesn't even need words.

Ah! I Smell Stuffing...

And here we are, at the bottom third of November, and getting into the wild ride we call "The Holidays".

It starts at a feverish pitch with the merchandising and the Pre-Thanksgiving sales, and the Lowest Prices of the Season. My mailbox is stuffed full every day with flyers advertising sales at Filene's (Robinson's May and Famous Barr for you Midwest and West Coasters). They always include that wonderful little additional 20% off card.

Then comes Turkey Day. A day to be thankful. A day to reflect on all of your blessings over the past year and to give THANKS.

And to not drink too much, cause you gotta be up for the Black Friday sales the next day.

I've had a lot to reflect on this past year. It's been a very hectic third and fourth quarter for Chris and I. It's been something to be thankful for.

That and the 20% off card.

Email

This was said to me in an email yesterday:

I swear, you have got to be one of the only people I know that says, okay, I need to get a job, and Bamm, you have one, and it's a good one too. That Rocks!!!

Yup - I guess it does.

A Quickie

Short post today kids. We are in the house. I have managed to unpack a few boxes. I am happier than I have been in a month. Enjoy Kelly Clarkson, it's a pretty thought-provoking song.

Get Right....

Some of you may have noticed that I added video code to my blog (Where is that music coming from? Scroll ALL The way to the bottom). If you need it to stop, press the "X" button on your browser.

Most of you who know me know that I love everything that has to do with dancing. I love the physical movement of dance, the music that you just can't help but dance to, whether it's tapping your foot or going into full-blown convulsions on the dance floor.

There are only a few dance songs that I feel are requirements to dance to. Anything with J.Lo - you gotta DANCE! Same with Prince.

So watch my blog for some great videos of my favorite dance songs.

And at the very least, tap your damn foot!

Why Don't You Do Something?

I feel like I ask this on a daily basis lately.

Enjoy Britney. I don't care what they say, this song rocks. That is all.

Such A Little Man

My son is growing up. I am facing that shocking reality more and more every day. I still remember the little baby that I held so closely shortly after he was born, and willed him to fight, willed him to live. Kristofer was a preemie, by 8 weeks, 4 pounds, 15 ounces of fighting little newborn.

You would never know it to look at him now. He's almost as tall as I am. And he's 11. And a half. He likes Star Wars and video games. Football and bike riding. Cartoons and drawing them. He's a well-rounded little boy.

I am a proud mama.

It's Raining. Again.

This move to New England has been less than sparkling. Yes, the leaves are gorgeous, and the fall crisp air is refreshing. It's just that for about 12 of the 25 days we have been here, it has rained. Right now as I write this, it is raining outside. Hard. It is the result of Hurricane Wilma and another storm coming from the West meeting up and deciding to have a party on New England. And they say storms aren't social.

Anyway, it is a hinderance to the things I need to get done. I have errands to run. We are supposed to be closing on our house this week. This rain is irritating to say the least.

Rain rain go away. Come again some other day. Preferably not for a long while.

So Much Has Changed

It is amazing the things that can happen in your life in a matter of weeks, DAYS even.

As of September 23, I was still a resident of San Diego County. Now here I am, 18 days later, and I am a resident of Hartford County. I used to live a short distance from the Mexico border. Now I live a short distance from the Canadian border. I went from sunny weather and 76 degrees to cloudy, overcast and raining since Saturday, and 53 degrees. It was 53 degrees this morning! And it did NOT warm up. I had to go buy a sweater. I had all my winter stuff packed by the moving company. I figured I wouldn't need it. Riiiiight.

The saddest part of the whole event? I grew up here! Granted I haven't lived here since I was 19, and most of you know how old I am and can do the math. For the others, let's just say it's been a while. And I went directly to the Valley of the Sun, where my wardrobe consisted of shorts and tank tops for years.

In that matter of time, we have managed to buy a house. This now consumes my day. There are inspections to have and appraisals to order. There are Town Halls to visit and Lawyers to hire. Oh yea, I am SO living in New England. Town Hall and Lawyer? Shit! In Arizona, you make an offer, do your appraisal, and move in 30 days later. Think I will actually HAVE a house by the 28th now that we have to involve lawyers? I already know what your answer is.

In the meantime, I have been living what I call the "Desperate Housewife" life. I imagine what it would be like to be famous and to live in a hotel. And order room service and have the maids (cleaning attendants?) come in and make my bed and clean my bathroom and replace my towels and soap and toothpaste and coffee. I go to breakfast every morning in the dining room (hot breakfast - I have grits with brown sugar and butter every morning!). I usually try to do something mid-morning to waste some time. This morning I had to run a check up to the real estate company for the house. Then I went to the mall and to Kohl's. I then had lunch.

As I was in the mall, I looked at the SAHM's (Stay-At-Home-Mom's) around me. They were here because they couldn't take the kids to the park and let them run their excess energy out in a flurry of swings and teeter-totters. I strolled the mall and caught more than one furtive jealous glance that I had no ankle-biters strolling along with me.

I made my way back to our temporary quarters, AKA the Hotel. I laid down and napped.

Tomorrow, I have to do laundry. I found a cute little laundromat where the old ladies were really fun to talk to last week. I'm going back there.

Friday I have a job interview. I'm in no hurry, but God knows I could use the distraction. Although, I wouldn't mind waiting until we are moved in. Then I could get us settled and unpacked and feel more rooted before I run off to work.

The good news is that I will have lots and lots of time to update my blog. So look for more updates from me.

Ta-ta for now!

Cross It Off My List

There are a few things still on my List Of Things To Do Before I Die. However, I was privileged enough to be able to cross one more thing off of that list.

#17: Take a cross-country road trip.

Chris recently got promoted for his job and we were transferred to Connecticut. The company packed us all up and then told us they would only move one car. Only one? Great! We'll take advantage of this opportunity and do a cross-country road trip! What could be better to see the great sights of this great land then by car? So we packed up our game and headed out East. Our first stop - Phoenix, Arizona. We spent some time with family and said "See ya later". Cause we don't say goodbye. Next stop? Gallup, New Mexico. A small town that seemed to be having some sort of AARP convention. We spent the night there. This was Saturday night. San Diego to Gallup, NM.

The next morning we started out from Gallup and made it all the way to Tulsa, Oklahoma. Let me tell you - this had to be the MOST boing part of the drive. Straight, flat roads. Weird, rock configuration type mountains. We spent the night in Tulsa. This was Sunday night. Gallup, NM to Tulsa, OK.

The next morning we started out from Tulsa and made it all the way to Indianapolis, IN. Home of NASCAR. And the Indy 500. And let me tell you, these people LOVE their racing! We spent the night there. This was Monday night. Tulsa, OK to Indianapolis, IN.

Tuesday morning, our goal was to make it to Harrisburg, PA. We were going to stop there before heading to my parents house for a couple of days of R&R. But Chris and I decided we could. Go. All. The. Way. And we did. This was Tuesday night. Indianapolis, IN, to Toms River, New Jersey.

We spent Wednesday through Saturday morning with my family. After breakfast on Saturday, we headed to Connecticut. Three and a half hours later, we were settled into our hotel room. We had made it.

The cross-country trip seemed more like a race to the finish. But it's a new journey. And as far as I know, it still counts as a cross-country trip.

I've Been Tagged!

So I hang out on this private message board (Shout out to my G.I. Girls!), and there's a really introspective questionnaire going around, and I have been tagged to do it. Thanks Snark!

Here we go:

What I Was Doing:

Ten Years Ago:
My son had just turned 1, and I was living in Paradise Valley - a suburb of Phoenix with his father. We had just gotten married (July 1) and I was settling into that role.

Five Years Ago:
Living with my boyfriend, Chris (now husband). We met in March of 1999, so we were enjoying our time together. Oh - and we were in the midst of building a house.

One Year Ago:
Getting used to living in San Diego. Chris got transferred from Phoenix, and we moved at the end of February. Working at a job I hated - only because my boss was a micro-managing bitch.

Yesterday:
Sitting on the beach in Coronado watching my son boogie-board with two of his friends from Phoenix. My friend Tina and her two kids came out and visited us for the weekend. It was a fantastically relaxing day.

5 Snacks That I Enjoy:
Snyders Butter Flavored Pretzels
Fudge
Chocolate Chip Cookies
Ice Cream
Blueberries

5 Things I Would Do With $100 Million:
Buy a house for us
Send my son to an Ivy League School
Buy my parents and Chris' parents a house
Set up a retirement fund
Donate to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation

5 Locations I Would Like To Run Away To:
St. Thomas, USVI
Antigua
Fiji
Australia
New Zealand

5 Bad Habits I Have:
Smoking
Cursing too much
Biting my nails when I am nervous
Being a little too judgmental at times
Being too upfront at times

5 Things I Like Doing:
Laying on the beach
Scrapping
Cuddling with my son
Shopping!
Talking to my husband - he always makes me laugh

5 Things I Would Never Wear:
One of those backless shirts
Chain Mail Clothing
Blue Eyeshadow (Unless it's Halloween)
Clear plastic shoes
A Size 0 (thanks Snark!)

5 TV Shows I Like:
Big Brother
Survivor
Blow Out
Lost
Without A Trace

5 Biggest Joys of the Moment:
I have a great husband
I have a great son
I have a great job
I like where I live
I have great friends

5 Favorite Toys:
My Senseo One-Cup coffeemaker
My car (yes, my car!)
My DVR - commercial free TV is the way to go!
My handheld Yahtzee game
My computer

Now It's YOUR Turn!
Tina
Roxy
Chelle
tat2scrapper
DastardlyBoo

Bye Bye Baby

We first met at an outlet center, he was there in the Big Dog store, looking forlorn and oh so damn cute. We checked him out, played with him a bit, and then decided to walk away and think about whether or not we wanted him.

We walked about twenty feet before I made up my mind that I had to have him. He was cute, cuddly, and was calling my name. I could hear it.

We brought him home and named him Sebastian. He was a 6 week old Chow/Golden Retriever mix. We took him to the PetSmart and spent the rent money on getting him the "essentials". We bought him a dog dish, some toys, a leash and collar, a brush, some more toys, some treats, some shampoo, some more toys, puppy pee-wee pads, and this wonderful stuff you put on your carpet after they boo-boo, so they don't boo-boo there again. Oh - and some toys.



At first, he was not having anything to do with going up and down the stairs of our apartment, so we had to carry him. After a little while, and a lot of dog bones dipped in peanut butter, he was getting a bit large to carry up and down the stairs, so we made him climb them. He got over it and was soon a champ.

We moved into our house shortly thereafter and bought Sebastian a doggy-door. It took us two days to train him to use it, but he got the idea. We also trained him to sit, lay down, stay, and give a high-five. Yes, my dog would jump up and paw your hand in a high five gesture. He rocked.

When Chris got transferred to San Diego, Sebastian rode in the back of the car, loving life and the fact that we were finally taking him with us on a "vacation". He acclimated to San Diego quickly, loving the milder temps and the doggie beaches. He really LOVED the doggie beach.

About three weeks ago, Sebastian stopped eating his food. We figured he was just tired of his food, because he is a little Jewish man with fur, and stubborn and spoiled as hell. So we changed his food. He didn't like that either. So we boiled chicken and cut it up, and hand fed it to him and he ate that. And he would eat his T-Bonz. Problem is, we fed him a T-Bonz on Sunday night, and on Monday morning, he puked it up. Whole.

Chris took him to the doctor. Tuesday the doc called and said that Sebastian was in severe kidney failure. There was treatment, but he was pretty bad, so it wasn't guaranteed. We made the heart-breaking and immensely difficult decision to put him down. Chris and I took him in on Wednesday, said our goodbyes, and let the staff take him away. Afterwards, they set him up in a room, and we went in and said goodbye again.

This was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my entire life. Chris agrees. We miss him, and strangely enough, we both sometimes still hear the click-click of his nails on the sidewalk, or his whining at the door. Give 'em hell up there baby! Give 'em hell.

Daddy

My dad called me today.

For some of you, this may not be a life-changing event, but for me, it's HUGE. My dad is a great man. It took me a long time to realize it, but I did right around the time I pulled my head out of my ass and realized I was a young punk kid who had no idea what the hell I was doing in this world. I was about 25.

My dad married my mom when I was about 6. I remember the wedding and thinking how LONG it was taking, cause I was only 6 and therefore, had the patience of a gnat. I was my mother's flower girl (of course) and my godmother was her Matron of Honor. My mother made her own dress, because my parents weren't well-off or anything, and my dad wore his best cream colored polyester suit. He looked like Elvis.

My dad raised and took care of me like I was his very own flesh and blood. The sperm donor who contributed to my zygote is and always will be a pathetic loser who has no sense of responsibility, but I'll save that for another post. In the meantime, let's move on.

I never felt like I was the red-headed step-child (which is funny, because I WAS a red-headed step-child!), because my dad included me on everything. He taught me how to swing a bat, throw a football, and change the oil in my car. He taught me how to chop wood, climb trees, and swing on a tire. My dad rocked.

Then I turned 15, and my dad sucked. At least, in my eyes he did. I hated how tough and strict he was, and I hated that he didn't understand what it was like to be a teenage girl. Most of all, I hated that he wouldn't let me do the things that all of my other friends got to do. Like date, and wear make-up. Yep, my dad was STRICT.

My dad was a deacon in our church. He taught us from the very start that God loved us unconditionally, and he emulated that love as much as possible. Sure, I got my ass busted, but you know what? I am a productive member of society. I have never performed a drive-by shooting. I have never robbed a bank. I have never beat someone to within an inch of their lives and when asked in court why I did it, blamed it on the fact that I was spanked as a child. As far as I am concerned, there aren't enough children getting their asses busted these days.

Whoa - before you get all high and mighty on me and tell me how awful I am for condoning spanking, I repeat - I had my ASS BUSTED on more than one occasion. And I am JUST FINE. There's a difference between having your ass busted, and getting beaten by an abusive parent. And truth be told, abusive parents are going to abuse their children whether spanking is against the law or not. So get over it. Moving on.

My dad adopted me when I was 16. I had always used his last name, but this made it official. Not that a piece of paper made me any more his daughter, because there was never a hiccup in the process.

When I turned 18, I high-tailed it out of that little town I grew up in and headed to the big city of Phoenix, Arizona. I thought I knew it ALL. My dad was disappointed, and I knew it, but I didn't care. It took me 7 long years to realize that I had been an idiot, and to this day, I feel terrible for hurting my dad like I did when I left the way I did.

But, being the awesome guy that he is, he has since forgiven me. He gave me away at my wedding. The first time the man has ever worn a tux, and I got him to do it.

Monday was his birthday, and I called his cell phone to wish him a happy birthday. I got his voice mail, so I tried again. I got his voice mail again, so I left a message. I sent a homemade card too. He called me today, to thank me for calling him and to thank me for the card.

I love my dad. Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love ya!

...and Release.

I have been working my tail off. To the bone. Working for the man. Nose to the grindstone.

Now it is yet again another weekend and I am dreading it. I am dreading the passing of yet another weekend in a flurry of activity that the husband and I partake in to pass the time.

I want to relax.

The problem with that, is that I see what needs to be done around the house, and I can't relax.

So tomorrow night, I am doing laundry, and vacuuming, and cleaning the bathroom.

So I can relax.

And...release.

Disappointment

Disappointment comes in many forms in our lives. When we are young, our worlds are crushed by the fact that we didn't get a particular toy, or that we didnt get to go to a certain birthday party.

In college, we are disappointed at the fact that not only do we HAVE to take a Poly-Sci class, but it happens to be at 8:00 in the morning.

As adults, we are disappointed by many things. Our jobs, our friends, our husbands, even our children. Disappointment is a way of life, but we never really get used to it.

Such is the situation that The Hub and I recently found ourselves in. After emotionally investing ourselves in a house that we were having built, and through no fault of our own, we found ourselves suddenly losing the house. It was a mathematical error on the part of the loan company, but nonetheless, we were still disappointed. We were thisclose to being homeowners in this beautiful town, and now we are back to square one.

I had been an emotional wreck for about a week, and bitterness and anger were left to creep in. I decided that I couldn't BE that emotional wreck, and that things had to progress. So I picked, myself up, brushed myself off, and moved on.

Ready for the next disappointment.

Responsibility

Sometimes I really, really hate that word. I don't want to be a grown-up. I want to be able to go back to bed in the morning. I don't want to go to work. I don't want to pay bills. I don't want to do what's right for our future.

I want to PLAY.

We were supposed to go to Maui this weekend. A nice, five day trip to the sun and fun that is the tropical isle. But instead, something with his work came up and now we can't go. So we are relegated to a quick two day trip to Phoenix. Which in and of itself is going to be nice too, we'll get to see some of our friends, and my son, but it's not Maui.

I need a nap.

Birthday Weekend Episode I: The Crash

So I threw my husband a 30th Birthday Bash this weekend. It all started on Thursday night when B, C and A flew in to kick the weekend off right. We stopped at a little pub downtown, The Princess Pub, and decided to have a little drink. Or two. Maybe some shots thrown in for good measure. And some darts. And maybe one more drink.

So we head home at about 11:30. We decide to play some Texas Hold 'Em. It gets down to the Hub and I at the table and we agree to split the money, cause we could have been there all night, and well, I wasn't in the mood.

Now it's time for bed. Only A isn't ready for bed. It's 2:00 a.m. and the boys have to be up in about three hours. They were headed out on a deep sea fishing trip first thing in the morning and the boat left at 6:30, with or without them. So we get A to bed. He's pretty drinky, cause he doesn't drinky very much anymore. He asks The Hub to put SportsCenter on for him, so he does, and then comes in and lays down.

Not even ten seconds later, we hear A yell about something on SportsCenter, and in the pitch dark of the house, drunk and not knowing the layout, he comes hauling balls into our room. He trips over the door jam and face plants into the corner of my bed. The Hub and I feel the bed shake, and he gets up and the convo goes something like this:

Hub: Dude, you alright?
Adam: Dude, I think I'm bleeding.
Hub: You're bleeding?
Adam: Yeah, I think I am.

So A goes to the bathroom and Hub gets up and turns on the lights. I get up and there is BLOOD EVERYWHERE. It is on my floor, and on my dresser, and on my comforter, and up my WALL. If this were an episode of CSI, we'd be going to jail fo' sho'. So I get a washcloth and start to clean it up. The Hub goes into the bathroom and I hear him say "Dude, you need stitches." And I hear A say "Nah, I'm alright." And I hear the Hub say "No, really, you need stitches." And I'm cleaning up the crime scene and thinking, MY GOD, it is 2:15 in the morning! On Cinco De Freaking Mayo. We're NEVER getting out of the ER tonight. So I go look.

A had a gash in his upper lip about an inch and a half long, with a piece of his lip hanging. And then, just below his nose on the same side, a two inch open gash. Where his teeth went through. So I get dressed and take the Banger Brothers to the ER. Surprisingly, there was only one other person ahead of him. They took him in, sewed him up, and we were off. We got home at about 4:00 a.m. I had literally been awake for 22 hours. I got him rested, and I got the Hub in bed, and I passed out.

For an hour, until I had to get up and make coffee and get the boys out the door.

It was going to be a long weekend.

My Best Friend...

My husband turned 30 today. He has been in my life now for over 6 years and it has been some of the best years of my life. Don't get me wrong, we still have our arguments and disagreements and fights, but I wouldn't and couldn't see my life without him. He is, by far, the best thing that ever happened to me, after of course, the birth of my son.

The Hub and I met six years ago in a bar in Tempe, Arizona. He was 23, I was 27. I had gone through a divorce, and for the record, was NOT in the mood for a boyfriend, committment, whatever. Yup, I was looking for some ass. Call me crazy, call me a slut, but guys do it all the time.

I'll spare you the details, mainly because HE doesn't remember it right, ever, but we danced and laughed and he walked me to my car. When he asked me for my number, I told him I had a 4 year old son. He didn't even blink and said "OK". I gave him my number and we parted ways.

He called me the next day. And came and took me and my roommate out to lunch. And PAID for it. **sigh**

We made plans to go out again. He said to call him. I did, and got his answering machine. With a girl's voice on it. I'm sorry, let me repeat that **ahem** (bullhorn voice) With A GIRL'S voice on it.

Can you even imagine the conversation that went on between my roommate and I after that phone call? I left a message. I figured if he had a girlfriend, she needed to know what the dirty dog was up to. Hmph. I'll show him. I never expected to hear from him again.

But he called. And the voice? It was HIS roommate. Who wound up being one of my bridesmaid's, but I'm rushing ahead.

I'll spare you the details of the next six years, but I'll sum it up - we started dating, moved in together, built a house, got married, and moved to San Diego. In that order. With some other stuff thrown in for good measure.

And today, he gave up going to Happy Hour and a ballgame with some friends from work to spend his birthday with me.

His best friend.

Captain Save-A-Ho

There is an underground superhero that most people don't know about. He is suave (or so he thinks), cool (like the other side of the pillow) and sweet. He loves the ladies and the ladies love him.

He is...

Captain Save-A-Ho.

I have only heard this expression twice in my life and both times were from two people who crack my shit up on a consistent basis. They know who they are.

Anyway, Captain Save-A-Ho likes the ladies. He likes to be with the ladies. He likes the ladies to adore him, cause, well, he saves the Ho's. And I mean the word 'Ho' in a good way. Like a generalism for women who like to be saved, anyway.

Captain Save-A-Ho's weakness is this: He thinks he's a player, but in all actuality, he's really not. The boy has about as much game as halftime at an NCAA tournament. He's obvious, obnoxious, and for crying out loud, let me introduce you to 24 Hour Fitness, cause the last time I checked, only pregnant women should have a gut like that. And while you are at it, let's do some manscaping. Let me introduce you to Mr. Tweezer and Miss Conditioner. And for all that is holy, would you mind washing out the old gel before inserting the new? You look like FogHorn Leghorn with that cock-a-doodle mohawk going on.

Alas, tho, Captain Save-A-Ho has redeeming qualities. He's nice, he's generous, and he will make the woman he is with at the time feel like she is the only woman in the world.

Well, at least until the next Ho walks by.

Look - up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane, it's........

Ah - you get it.

Whatever Happened to Just Crazy?

**WARNING** Extremely snarky and/or controversial and/or offending post ahead. Proceed with caution.

Remember the days when we wouldn't have to put warnings on stuff? I am reminded of the time the lady that spilled hot McDonald's coffee on her lap sued them because there was no warning on the cup that it was hot. I shook my head and chalked it up to stupid. I mean really, who doesn't know that coffee is HOT? And lately, the prescription drug ads have this former auctioneer at the end rattling off the possible side effects of said drug. It goes something like this: Warning: extended use of medication may cause drowsiness, sleeplessness, constipation, diarrhea, low blood pressure, high blood pressure, anxiety, depression and death. Wha?

The latest round of crazy people have decided to sue the fast food companies for making them fat. Oh - right! Because every time I go to a fast food restaurant, they open my mouth forcefully and jam those fats and carbs and calories down my throat. Ummm...NO! I am fully aware of the consequences of the McGriddle Sandwich. I know that my ever-expanding ass is the result of too many Pepsi's and KFC mashed potato's and not enough exercising. I also know that I have no one to blame but myself for the actions I take that result in the consequences I get that are my life.

So this morning when the radio alarm went off, I rolled over and instead of hitting snooze, started listening to what the DJ's were talking about. They were talking about whether or not you as a listening audience would report someone that you saw shoplifting to the store manager. I am thinking "Hell ya, I would!" Well, this rocket-scientist slash brain surgeon calls in and says "What about kleptomaniacs? They can't help themselves. You would rat them out? Maybe you should just mind your own business and leave them alone." And the DJ, who I could tell was taken aback AND pissed off at the same time, says "Are you kidding me? Maybe if they get caught, they would get the help they need?" Rocket-scientist disagreed, repeating herself, "They can't help it."

To quote Chris Rock "Whatever happened to just crazy?"

So what she is saying is that Serial Sex Offenders can't help themselves, so we just let them go on about their business? Well, call Michael Jackson's attorney and tell him that Mikey is free! Let him go on doing what he's doing, cause he can't help himself! Boy won't the County of Los Angeles and mothers of boys EVERYWHERE be happy?

Why are we, as a society, so quick to throw a new drug at someone, rather than finding a cure for what ails them? I admit, I am one of those hesitant ones who do not believe that medication is the key. I have to be hurting pretty bad to take ANY medication. I was passing kidney stones one weekend and refused to take the Vicodin the doc gave me. Not only that, but I went to Rocky Point for the weekend, strainer and all.

If it were up to me, NO ONE would be medicated so easily. Oh sure, I believe in imbalances in brain chemicals - but dammit, what is the CAUSE? Like I always say, the money is in the treatment, not the cure. I am also not talking about those who have grave illnesses, like cancer and leukemia. I am speaking about women and men who tell their doctor that they just aren't feeling good so the doc throws a med at them. When I don't feel good, I go on vacation! And damn if I don't feel like a champ when I get back. Depressed because your neighbor's lawn looks better than yours? Take this drug! Upset because the laundry isn't dry yet? Take this one! Oh - and if you really feel bad because you don't have the capacity to deal with life and would rather blame everyone around you - I'll give you two to take!

I have a good friend who's father sexually abused her and her sister. She does NOT use it as a crutch, she does NOT take medication for it. She built a bridge and GOT OVER IT. She is one of my heros.

Ever watch the Discovery Channel? Ever watch when they go deep into the Amazon and find a tribe that has been living, happily and drug free, for years and years? Ever wonder WHY?

Oh sure, we can blame pollutants, and preservatives, and radio waves, and, and, and...

But when is the time for us to take up the responsibility of our own actions? When?

Va-Kay-Shun

va·ca·tion n.
1. A period of time devoted to pleasure, rest, or relaxation, especially one with pay granted to an employee.
2. A holiday.
3. A fixed period of holidays, especially one during which a school, court, or business suspends activities.

I need one of those, badly. I'm tired, I'm stressed, and nothing sounds better to me right now than laying on a beach somewhere (other than here) with a drink in my hand listening to the waves crash against the rocks.

The Hub needs a vacation also. So, we have decided, with a group of close friends, to head to Maui for a long weekend. Leave on a Friday, come back on a Wednesday morning.

I love Maui and I cannot wait. Here's to Mai Tai's and crashing waves. I can hear them already!

Supply and Demand

There is a conspiracy here in Southern California with homebuilders. You see, when you want to buy a newly constructed house, you can't just say, go in to the sales office, plunk down your good faith deposit, sign a few papers, and off you go. No, it's a dance here. A dance of the type that no one really wants to perform. I think secretly there is one person in charge sitting in his 2,000 square foot mahogany desk and slate tiled office laughing because of the 17 or so people that want to buy the five houses he is going to release for sale. I am getting ahead of myself though. For those non-SoCalians (Yes, it's a word!!), let me grant you your Bachelor's in Buying a House in SoCal, with a minor in Pre-Qualification and an emphasis on The Wait.

Here's a quick rundown of the process:

You visit countless, endless communities and finally find a house you are happy with. And when I say 'happy', I mean that is bigger than a breadbox and doesn't need at least $100,000 worth of remodeling. Hence the new construction we went after. And of course, even after we found said house, we still looked at about twelve more communities, just to be sure.

The next step to this mad dance is to get "Pre-Qualified". Now mind you, this is NOT the same as being pre-approved, it is simply a process by which they pull your credit, verify your income, make sure you don't have another mortgage out there somewhere (a trick they use to deter investors), and laugh hysterically at your application while imagining you selling your body parts on EBay to make this ridiculously high payment. Hey, who says bankers are stuffy?

Once you are Pre-Qual'ed, you go on a priority list. Which is basically a score card for who can get the most suckers reeled in for the week. I believe Vegas has a seedy betting room for the over/under on this one. And then you wait. And wait. And. Wait. See, the builder is trying to populate his Pre-Qual list, even though he knows damn well that he only plans on releasing maybe five or six houses, and the list is twenty or thirty deep.

We got Pre-Qual'ed about three weeks ago. And have. Been. Waiting. Can you tell my patience is running thin?

I have the sales office on speed dial. I call at least once a week. The Hub calls at least once a week. And sometimes, we call pretending we are strangers and just want to know if anything is getting released. Have I heard anything yet? Nope. Not a damn thing. Just that they "hope" that they will be released this weekend, and oh gosh, they thought they would release them last weekend. Yeah, that would have been nice.

So imagine this: people clawing and scratching to get a house. Clawing and scratching.

All for the privilege of a $3100 house payment. That of course, is with taxes, interest, HOA, and Mello-Roos.

I feel honored. Now just release my damn house already.

Terrible Friend

I am a terrible friend. Even before I moved 350 miles away, I was bad at keeping in contact with friends. Really bad. Now that I am 350 miles away, it's gotten worse.

My friend, Rika, who has forayed from the world of higher education to the world of higher caffeine, has weird hours. She works at a coffee house for cripes sake, so she has to be up at like 2 in the morning. I remember when she and I used to go out party and not go to BED until 2 in the morning. And that was if there was no after-party. Now we're in our 30's, and responsible, and we go to bed at reasonable hours. However, her schedule and my schedule have clashed so much lately that she is going to bed while I am getting unchained from my desk.

We miss each other.

The nice thing about it though, and about pretty much all of my relationships with my friends, is that we all understand that we are ALL busy. Very busy. And if we don't talk for a week, a month, hell, a YEAR, we can pick up the phone and pick right back up where we started.

Pictures With Friends

*Whoa! Two posts in one day!*

OK - I was looking at my wedding pictures the other day (cause I do that. A Lot.) and realized that I don't have any updated pics of me and my girls! Agh! How can that be? Maybe because we're so darn busy. (See post above)

So here's a couple for you. Hope they don't mind! And for clarification, I am in white.


Me and the Girls


The reason I am so happy....

Taking Care of Business

Exhaustion. Fatigue. Frustration.

I love my job, but I can come home every night feeling one of those many emotions. There is so much on my plate, sometimes I feel - overwhelmed.

I came home tonight and finished off a bottle of
Two Buck Chuck by myself. See, the Hub is in Dallas, attending one of the many weeks of MIT2 training he has to attend. So besides the cell phone counseling, I have, well, a big empty bed.

Yesterday I had lunch with some friends. Then I went to a movie with one of those friends. She's a single mom and we are so alike, it's scary. I remember the point in my life when I was where she is at. The things I did, the attitude I had towards relationships, and life in general. I respect and admire her, because she IS where I WAS, not so long ago. I see her point of view and I can relate. And for that, I am grateful. She personifies a lot of the things that I see as admirable in a person, and for that, I love her.

And I have only known her for a short time.

She takes care of business. She handles her single motherhood with a responsible attitude. Yet, she still has a great time. She takes care of business.

I wish only the best for her. And she knows who she is.

Excuse Me, Ma'am?

As children, once we get a grasp on the whole time concept, we start looking forward to major milestones in our lives. Well, major in our minds at the time. When I was 12, I looked forward to being 13, cause it had the word "teen" in it. When I was 15, I looked forward to my "Sweet 16". And then, 17, because that's how old you had to be to drive in New Jersey, where I am from. And then the magical 21. And we all know why.

But after that, we spend a large amount of time trying to reverse the process. I can clearly recall loving the fact that I was 24, but not so much on the 25. The age just sounds weird to me. Then 28 rocked. I loved it! In fact, I was 28 for about two years! Not on purpose, but I loved saying it so much, that I would forget I was 29. Then I turned 30, and well, I loved that!!

I never really had an issue with my age. Those of you who know me know that I don't look my age anyway, so no stress right?

I was in the Taco Bell drive through yesterday picking up a healthy and nutritious meal for the Boy. When I handed the "kid" at the window my money, he asked if I wanted hot sauce. I said "No thanks." He, apparently didn't hear me and asked "Excuse me ma'am?"

WHAT?

I am NOT a ma'am. I am a Mrs. I will even answer to Miss. But Ma'am?

Oh good night, are the laugh lines getting deeper? Are my smile lines getting wider? Wait - is that *gasp* Crow's Feet??

And so the process begins. They say your body starts to really change in your 30's. The Hub is getting ready to turn 30 (yes, go ahead and crack about the cradle robbing), and he is starting to experience the same ached and pains that he laughed at me about three years ago.

Karma is a bitch, isn't she?

So with that I say, bring on the ma'am, bring on the laugh lines. If I have those, then I know my life is fulfilled.

Ma'am.

A Matter of Faith

My faith was tested today - HARD. You see, I believe God has a purpose for each and every one of us on this earth. I believe He has a plan for me, although sometimes I am too stubborn to see it. There is very rarely anything that happens in my life or in the lives of those around me that I cannot see the good in.

Today was a different story.

I have an online friend who had twins last year. Two beautiful babies, Ethan and Emma. As is the case with most twins, the babies were preemie and Ethan was born with health complications. Long story short, he passed away in October. Ethan became an angel.

Sara moved on and stayed strong and became a wonderful mother to little Emma. Emma thrived and fought and was loved by all around her.

Emma passed away last night from complications due to an infection. Her little body just couldn't handle it.

Emma was seven months old.

I cried this morning. I cried like I haven't cried in a long time. I have been crying all day. I cry for Ethan, and for Emma, and for Sara. I cry for any mother who has lost their child. I cried trying to tell my husband.

My faith tells me that God does not give us more than we can handle. I watched Sara take Ethan's death and turn it into a positive, loving energy towards Emma. What I cannot see for the life of me, is how she will possibly deal with the hurt, the anger, the feeling of overwhelming sorrow that is probably one hundred times what I am feeling.

If you believe, please pray for Sara.

And hug your children tight tonight.

Disneyland

Why is it that no matter how old you are, once you walk through the gates of Disneyland and set your eyes on Main Street, and get that view of Cindy's Castle, your heart becomes, well, happy? Is it true that we, even as adults, need an escape?

We took the Boy to Disneyland this weekend. It was part of his birthday/Easter/Passover present. I like to tell myself that I do it to watch the joy on his face, but honestly, who am I kidding? There is nothing like a good old fashioned ride on the Matterhorn. Or splashing down into the world of the Pirates of the Carribbean!

So we get to the park at 7:30 a.m. and we stand in line waiting to get in. The gates opened promptly at 8:00. Our first stop was to get the Boy some pics and autographs, and that is precisely what we did. Four in a row. Like lightning. And we didn't have to wait for the best one of all, the King himself, Mr. M. Mouse. That's Mickey to you and me.



So we waited in lines and bumped into people, and generally had a really good time. With 98,000 other people. On Easter/Spring Break weekend.

What were we thinking?



Well, we weren't. But they don't call this the Happiest Place on Earth for nothing! So off we went. First stop: Buzz Lightyear, the Ride. And three minutes into it, it breaks down. Completely. Twenty minutes later, they let us off. Seriously folks, on the busiest day of the Spring, you can't get your newest ride to work? Oy! Give me the good old standby - I'm headed to the Matterhorn!

So we did that, and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, Autopia, Innoventions, Star Tours, Indiana Jones, and of course, Pirates of the Carribbean. Only no Johnny Depp, which I thought was a rip off. I mean, really, folks.




Innoventions was fun, as the boy got to be on a "Game Show" which basically turned into a giant Disney, Inc. commercial. They were plugging TiVo, and ABC, and of course, a lot of recent Disney movies, such as Miracle. Funny how that works.

We then went to Downtown Disney. We shopped, and ate at the Rainforest Cafe. And told the waitress it was the Boy's birthday so we could score him a free sundae, and embarass him with the loud clapping and yelling, of which I was a major contributor.

At about 6:30 p.m., we piled in the tram to head back to our $10 parking space to drive home. We made it up in an hour and fifteen, and made it home in an hour and a half. Not that the Boy would know, he was out before we put it in drive.

And so was his mommy.

Ten More Things I Love About You

I got ten more for you - here ya go:

11. I love hip-hop/dance music. My new fave stations on
XM Radio are
KissXM and BPM. **Side note - have you gotten XM yet? OMG! Get IT!. End side note**

12. I enjoy old school video games. Like Frogger, Pac Man, Ms. Pac Man and Tetris. You can keep Vice City and Devil May Cry, really.

13. I travel. A Lot. The Hub works for a major airline and well, we get some fantastic bene's.

14. I collect shot glasses from every city the Hub and I have visited TOGETHER. That's the rule, it has to be together.

15. To relax, I read, write, or scrapbook. I need to be creating to be relaxed, but creating under my own pressure, not under anyone else's.

16. There is nothing like a great cup of coffee in the morning, or a soothing cup of green tea before bedtime.

17. I will not take prescription drugs if I don't have to. I like natural remedies, and will often "work out" a migraine via aromatherapy (spearmint and eucalyptus do wonders). I believe most of our healing is mental anyway.

18. My favorite snacks are oranges.

19. My favorite color is blue.

20. The person I know that lives the farthest away is one of the greatest friends I have and she became one in a very short time. Love and miss you Amanda!

That's it for now. Stay tuned.

I Almost Licked the Handle

Remember that VW commercial where the guy is at the dealership, and he's on the phone with his significant other, and they have ONE Jetta left in apparently the color she wants? Then this other couple starts to come out of the dealership and they have the keys to test drive THAT Jetta? He bends over and licks the handle. Funniest commercial I have ever seen VW make.

Fast forward to about a week and a half ago. I have been driving a 2002 Galactic Blue Jetta TDI (that's Turbo Diesel) for the last three years. I loved that Jetta. Sunroof, leather heated seats. And a bit of pep in it's step. I have to say I am a loyal VW customer. They make a good car. A tank. A rock.

Then I started noticing some new Jetta commercials. I heard rumors that they were changing the body style, not making them anymore, etc. I mosied on over to this website:
New Jetta

Sarah Jessica Parker would you get a load of THAT? Look at that sleek body style, that longer frame. What's this? Automatic RAIN SENSORS? Very cool. So I dropped it on The Hub. He likey. I likey. We wait for the release.

This was my life yesterday: We had server issues at work, I lost half my timesheet data for my hourly employees, and I am stressed to the max because payroll is this week. I got in at 7 and didn't leave (with no lunch) until 6. I called The Hub on the way home. Here's how the convo went:

Me: Hi Honey.
The Hub: Are you coming home today?
Me: Ha. Funny. Yes, I am on my way.
The Hub: Good, let's go look at the New Jetta's.
Me: No.
The Hub: What??
Me: I'm exhausted and not in the mood.
The Hub: OK

I get home. The Hub suggests we go get a bite to eat. I say ok. Then he drops it on me that we are going to run by the VW dealership on the way, to talk to Jamie. Jamie? You KNOW someone over there? He grins. You see, he's already talked to Jamie, and they are buds.

We get to the dealership. I sit in the New Jetta and fall in lust. Not fair. We test drive the New Jetta. I fall in love. So not fair. Then I see someone looking at MY JETTA. And then Jamie tells us that since they only have 2 left (yeah, 2! Of the 10 they ordered and had on Saturday!) that they are only selling ONE because they have to have something for other customers to look at. Why is it we always want something more when someone else wants it??

Make a not so long story shorter, I have said New Jetta sitting in my parking lot as we speak. It's grey. Oh - wait. It's Platinum Grey. And it's loaded. And I mean loaded. It's even got XM Sattelite Radio. Oh - and rain sensors.

And I didn't even have to lick the handle.

Things You Need to Know

So I have been doing this blogging thang for a bit and I have decided to do a Ten Things I Love About You post.

Here you go:

1. Extreme Makeover Home Edition makes me cry. Every. Damn. Time.

2. I adore horror movies. Slasher, psycho, psychological. Any type of horror/thriller movie turns my crank. Guess where I will be on Friday?
The Ring 2

3. I love my husband with a fierce, passionate and deep love. It is so deep that it hurts sometimes. Hurts. I hope everyone gets to experience that hurt sometime.

4. I love my son with an unconditional, protective, "I would take a bullet for you" love.

5. Though they sometimes drive me crazy, my mom and dad are integral parts of my world.

6. My sister was the biggest pain in my ass until we became adults. Then she was an even bigger pain. But I love her with a fierce love.

7. I love my job. It's stressful, and challenging, and there are days that I come home exhausted, but I feel fulfilled in my career for the first time in my life.

8. My dog is a spoiled rotten little Jewish man with fur. His mommy is Jewish, so, you know, the mother passes it on.

9. I love my God, and my Saviour. I won't get on a soap box here, but I have a deep-rooted faith in God that I can now look back and thank my father for. I ran from it when I was in my teens, and thankfully, my God is a forgiving one.

10. I love my friends with all of my heart. You know who you are.

Boys Are Always 12

I am a Newlyweds junkie. I love Jessica Simpson and Nick Lache, and I don't care what the rag mags say about them, I think they are a cute couple. She's ditzy enough, but not annoyingly, and he is, well, hot. And he reminds me of my husband, though I never knew why until last night.

Hub and I were sitting on the couch catching up on our DVR'd TV shows.

*Side note - DVR/TIVO is the best invention since, well, microwaves. I believe it, that settles it.*

So we get to Newlyweds, and I start the show. In this particular episode, Jess (yes, we're tight, I call her Jess) is off filming Dukes of Hazzard. So Nick decides to take some of his best guy friends to Cabo for a nice guys weekend. They rent a house only you and I could DREAM of living in, and they decide to have a guys night. They barbecue, and drink beer. And then they decide to shave mohawks in two of their friends' hair. The Hub is beside me laughing his ass off. Why? Because he can relate. So when they say what happens in Mexico, this is IT? No strippers, no dirty little secrets? Just a bunch of men, drinking beer and receiving mohawks? I am interested, so I pay a little closer attention.

The next day the boys decide to go Marlin fishing. Marlin fishing is to Cabo what gambling is to Vegas. (The Hub and I have been there a few times, so we know.) So they head out on the boat, beers and bagels, and proceed to try to fish. Problem is, there isn't really any good fishing, so they get bored quickly. For those of you with sons, does this sound familiar??

What do they decide to do? Go out to that little platform at the front of the boat, and see if they can get dunked. See, apparently, if you stand on the edge of this thing, eventually the momentum from the waves will dunk you pretty well. I had no idea of this, until the Hub told me what they were doing. He knew, right away. And let me tell you, he was laughing his ass off about it. I don't mean just chuckling. When the guy finally got soaked by the waves, Hub was in full-blown arrest. He whooped and hollered, and cheered the guy on! I think if Nick had invited my Hub to cabo, he would have been there right along with them.

Getting a mohawk, and getting dunked.

Proof positive that boys may age, but they never grow up. They are 12 forever.

Private School or Bust

I went to private school. From the fourth grade until I graduated. My parents scrimped and struggled, but I was able to be given a private school education. I never realized how much that education meant until today.

I have made a decision. My child/future children will go to either a charter or private school if I have to strip to earn the money. I mean of course, strip and wax floors. And that sort of thing.

How did I come to such a remarkable decision? I had lunch today. At a sandwich shop that shall remain nameless *coughcoughBlimpiecoughcough*. I ordered what I always get - a hot Pastrami sandwich on Italian bread. Mayo, mustard, swiss cheese. Easy right?? Well, the sandwich part was anyway.

Then I get to the checkout. Said sandwich shop has a punch card system where you buy 7 subs and your 8th is free. Which isn't so bad a deal. So I get to the checkout and the boy behind the counter, who just made my sandwich, says "What did you have?" I look around slowly, as if not believing that he was asking me, and say "Hot Pastrami, on Italian, with cheese. And make it a combo, but upsize my drink." You would have thought I asked for his kidney. He looked at me, looked at the register, and looked back at me. I handed him my punch card, and proceeded to pull a $20 out of my purse. The total came to $6.89. As it always does. He looks at my punch card, which I still have one more punch before the freebie, and takes the cost of my sandwich off the total.

I realize at this point, that it's about to get hairy, so I say to him "No, I just wanted the punch for the sub, I don't get a free one yet." He looks at the punch card. He looks at me. I guess this time I asked for his liver. He then hits the total button, and the total is $2.20. OK, did I, or did I not just tell him that he shouldn't have taken the sub off? I said "Do you want to re-ring me, or add the sub back on?" He looks at the punch card, looks at me. "No," he says "It's alright."

What?

So I hand him my $20 bill. Here's where it gets really fun. Note that the total on the register is now $2.20. He puts in $0.20, thinking he put in $20. So now the register says $2.00. Oh I bet you can tell where this is going. He then looks at me, looks at the $20, and says, and I am NOT making this up, "You owe $2."

What?

I said, very calmly, because it is now that I realize he cannot help himself, "I gave you a $20, the bill was $2.20. You owe me $17.80. You typed in 20 cents instead of $20 and now that is why it says $2."

"Oh." He says.

And types in $20. Oh yeah, he sure does. So now he gives me back $18 change. Yup. Not only did I get a $2 meal from that sandwich store, but I got my drink upgraded, and I got some afternoon entertainment as well.

Private school or bust. If I have to live in a homeless shelter and sell chiclets in Tijuana. Private school.

Private school.

Or bust.

Mojitos

Pronounced mo-hee-toes. My new favorite drink. Fresh mint leaves, brown sugar, and a fresh lime quarter. Throw them at the bottom of a glass, and crush with a wooden mallet type object. Top with ice, rum, sweet and sour, and a splash of soda, and you have a drink made for summer.

I have recently rediscovered the Mojito. The minty freshness and the sparkling soda make for a refreshing beverage. Make sure the next time you are out, you order one up. And sip it. And enjoy.