Friday, February 29, 2008

Friday Fun...

Today's Quiz is "How big of a geek are you?"

50% Geek

Later today I'll have Not the Momma take the quiz. Any guesses on what his score will be? The person who leaves a comment with the closest score gets a prize.. Say a $5 giftcard to Starbucks? I'm totally serious about that too.

About my Love for Monsters

I have been watching quite a bit of Sesame Street lately. I don't remember Sesame street being so funny as a kid. Bert & Ernie crack me up every day. Bert is such a dweeb. The other day Ernie got him talking to some elephant on a banana. That was funny... Until he told the elephant on the other end of the banana that he was blonde and 6'2." What was that all about? Maybe I misheard him. (Jakers had a show about ghost stories and they were talking about some sort of shiP, I almost Lost it, because I heard something that sounded like bullSHIp over and over again, so I know my ears could have been mistaken.) I love how Ernie is always annoying the heck out of Bert, and tricking him. I love that Bert is a dweeb, who loves argyle socks and pigeons.

Grover is crazy as always, and as a kid he was my favorite, but my tastes have changed as I've grown up. I'm now in love with Cookie Monster. He spends a lot of time with Prairie Dawn. The two are as funny a comedic act as Abbot and Costello. Cookie always wants to eat the Cookies, and Prairie stops just short of torturing the poor monster before she lets him eat some cookies. When there aren't any cookies, the drama.. OOOH, the drama. Every sketch they do cracks me up.

I know, you're asking, Where's Elmo? He's not here. I don't much care for Elmo. He's great, and if we are watching real Sesame Street, then it's fine... But we normally watch "Play with me Sesame" on Sprout, and he doesn't play a big role in that show. Which is fine, because I get tired of the whole Elmo's world, it can be down right annoying...

I feel like I know the characters much better this time around. It's good, because, I have to be careful who my Little Monster gets to know.. through the TV or otherwise, and I feel safe with these goons.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Monday, aGAIN?

Okay, so today's Monday isn't as bad as Monday's Monday... It' ranks up there with Wednesday's Monday, but it isn't even close to Tuesday's Monday. I've resigned myself to having a week full of Mondays. So, does that mean next week will be full of Fridays? I can only hope.

The power went out in our bathroom, again. I finally got around to calling our maintenance department about it. Last time I called it took a couple of days for them to show up. So, I figured, it would be a while. I haven't showered. I am not dressed. The baby is still in his Jammies, and I'm in the middle of Laundry. Can you see where this is going? Yup. Maintenance showed up today. About an hour after I called. I won't complain that they were fast, just that they have been inconsistent. While they were here they fixed the power problem in the bathroom (I hope).

I had also put in a work order for my dishwasher. Again. Because, seriously, the thing has issues. One day it works, the next it doesn't. Sometimes it takes some tender lovin' care for it to get started, and other days I want to beat the living snot out of it because it refuses to do anything. Well, this morning it was on its worst. behavior. ever. As the guy was upstairs fixing my bathroom plugs, the dishwasher started working again. How nice is that? I think Murphy and his cronies are out to get me with their crazy laws.

Good News:
Today I have not spilled anything. Yet.
Today I am in a better mood than I have been. So Far.
Today, It is sunny and beautiful outside, the baby is in a good mood. I'm actually getting things done. Today. Is. A. Better. Day. I'm not sure I've convinced myself... Have I convinced you?

Another Wake up Call?

After having a week of Mondays packed into three days, I was hesitant to go to bed last night. After all, If I don't go to sleep, tomorrow can't come, right? The last few mornings I've been awakened by phones ringing (but not yesterday, I cancelled the forward to the house. yeah me!). This morning, however,

Coyotes. Announcing to the world that they killed something and were getting ready to get some tasty meat. I don't know much (read: I know nothing) about the behavior of coyotes, but I now know that they howl for a LONG time when they have a kill. It is likely that the coyote caught one of the bazillions of turkeys that meander around our neighborhood. I just wish that they'd announce their kill a little later in the morning.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Case of the Mondays..

Some Monday mornings, well, they are Monday mornings… if you catch my drift. This morning would be one of them, and I’m not sure why.

The day started out at 6:00AM, a whole hour earlier than necessary, when a client called. I ignored it. I always explain that I’m in California when I call my east coast buddies, so they understand. We rolled back over until it was time to get up. I didn’t sleep well last night, and those last few minutes of sleep would really do me good. Not a chance of that this morning. Either Not the Momma is extra loud getting ready or I'm extra sensitive today. He doesn’t know it if he's being loud, though. He’s sick and can’t hear because his entire head is filled fluid. He’s congested and he feels like “hammered dog poo.” Before he leaves, he requests to have clean underwear tomorrow. (In his defense, I’ve yelled at him for doing laundry every time he’s tried since he’s been home – my bad.)

I need to do the laundry today. I also need to clean the house. The entire house, because for some reason, a weekend can’t go by without the house getting trashed. So, I have a huge task to deal with. I don’t know why it is that during the weekend, the house seems to explode with mess, but it does. I am starting with the upstairs this week, because usually, it gets the half-baked job because I'm tired by the time I get to that part of the house.

I got up and started my day. As I went to prepare my morning coffee, I opened the dishwasher to empty it. But, the dishes were dirty. The dishwasher went on strike last night – yet again. It’s not broken. It just decides not to run in the middle of the night, when it’s most convenient for me, even if I push the Start Button after the 4 hour delay button. I restarted it, and got my coffee ready. As I contemplated my day, and worked on getting through my Google Reader list, the hot, fresh, delicious Cinnamon Vanilla Nut Coffee, I worked so hard to make (read: yesterday’s coffee, poured into a cup and nuked) spilled. None got into my laptop, but it was all over the table, the wall, and the floor. Luckily, my already hyper terriers decided to pitch in and help me clean up the mess. That will be fun. Two already hyper dogs on a caffeine high. After cleaning up the coffee spill, and making another cup, I sat down to continue contemplation.

Little Monster is mad at me because I shut off the TV. Somehow, in the past few weeks, he’s learned how to be a zombie in front of that thing. It’s very convenient when I need a few minutes of peace, but, I’m not sure I like that he just zonks out in front of it. We’re going to need to figure out some rules regarding how much time he's allowed to spend in front of it. He’s too little to be addicted to anything other than milk, especially that crap. At least he's still happy with PBS Sprout. In protest, he threw his entire serving of Cheerios to the floor, giggling as the dogs ran around like the hyper caffeinated dogs they are to help him clean up that mess. Then he complained because he was hungry and wanted more.

I finally got him settled, and I returned to my computer… This time, I decided I should probably at least look at my design stuff, rather than giving in to my addiction (the blogs). Little Monster climbed into his high chair (he can do that now, isn’t that exciting? ßcan you sense the sarcasm?), and reached for my cup of coffee. Determined not to let it spill, again, I grabbed it. At the same time he did. I told him no and tried to get it away from him. At that point, he decided I was the boss. Really? When did he decide that I make rules? As he let go, the coffee went flying in the other direction. right. into. my. laptop. keyboard. That's two coffee spills so far today. As for my laptop, so far it is working. When I cleaned the coffee out of it, I had to push some buttons, though. I looked back at Google Reader. I didn't feel guilty about not working anymore. My entire Google Reader list that was previously "unread" became "read." 100+ Things I wanted to at least skim through. At least Little Monster saved me some time.

It is 9:03AM. I think I’m ready to go back to bed now.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

While We Were Out...

Our dogs are naughty sometimes, not terribly, and not terribly often, but on occasion they will do something to irritate the living snot out of one of us.

It was my turn the other day. We’d left for a little while, and when we came back, we found wrappers all over the floor. I had mistakenly left my cup of chocolate on the kitchen table. It’s amazing what two terriers under 20 pounds will do. Between the two of them, they had taken all of the chocolate out of the cup, dumped it on the floor, removed the wrappers and eaten it. There were about 10 hershey’s kisses, a half dozen bakers chocolates and one Ghirardelli milk chocolate square. I was extremely irritated, because I didn’t get to eat the last of the chocolate basket I got for my birthday last year, I was now completely devoid of chocolate, and one or both of my dogs was going to potentially be very sick from the consumption of all of that chocolate. They were both banished to the backyard for the entire day until it started raining.

After considering how we found the kitchen, I have to laugh because:
1) In order to get to the cup, they had to climb onto a chair, and then onto the table.
2) The ceramic cup that contained the chocolate was still on the table. They had taken the chocolate out of the cup, and thrown it onto the floor rather than knocking the cup on the floor.
3) The chocolate wrappers (aside from the hershey’s kisses) were found in whole pieces. They un-wrapped the majority of the chocolate, then ate it, leaving the wrappers whole and intact.

48 hours later the dogs were okay, no signs of chocolate poisoning. However, I was starting to wonder just exactly the dogs do while we are gone.

Fast forward to this morning. We went to Target to pick up diapers, wipes, M&M’s, you know, the essentials. We got home to find a dog, laying on the kitchen table. When he saw me, his ears went back, his eyes got big, and he froze. He was frozen with fear. He didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t know what to do, because, frankly, I never thought I’d see my dog, laying on the kitchen table. After a few seconds, the shock wore off, and I kicked him off the table. Weird dog. So, now I’m even more intrigued. What in the world are my dogs thinking? I’m beginning to think all those fantasy kids movies aren’t so far off. What weird things have your pets done while you were out?

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Letter to my Body...

There has been a little exercise on BlogHer... Here's my submission.

It seems the two of us have a love-hate relationship these days. Some days, especially recently, I love the way we look together. I love the fact that parts of me are returning to the places they were before you grew my son. I’m not so sure how I feel about the grey hair that has started to show up in random places on my head. Don’t you know we’re not even 30 yet? That’s too young for grey hair. You have been really good to me, so I guess I can let that one slide, especially if you consider the abuse I’ve put you through.

It all started when I was six years old. My grandma told me that lying on hot cement would cause skin cancer. I didn’t believe her, and hope she’s wrong to this day. Why? You remember. I had been running through the sprinkler, and in a secret act of defiance laid my nearly naked wet body on the ground. I heard the sound of the water sizzling, much like eggs frying, as I put you up against the hot cement. I’m sorry about that.

The abuse continued through my teen years when, before the banning of soda and junk food in schools, I filled you with a bunch of crap. There really isn’t another word to describe the Mt. Dew, Bagels, Little Debbie Snacks, Otis Spunkmeyer cookies and pizza I ate daily. That job at Dairy Queen didn’t help either, because the amount of ice cream I ingested would probably scare some people. Thanks for not gaining the 300 pounds I should have gained. I continued the cruelty in my college years, when night after night, I would drink myself silly, smoke like a chimney and deprive you of sleep for days. Those were fun times, but I’m afraid of the permanent damage I did to you in three short years.

How is it that after so many years of abuse and neglect, you are still there for me? I sincerely appreciate all you have done for me. You have been wonderful. You have been extremely healthy, even if I haven’t done anything to help you out with that endeavor. I know that as I get older, I’ll have to do more to help you, so here’s what I ask of you. Could you please send some endorphins to my brain to trick me into thinking exercise is fun? That would help me help you. You know I’ve been trying to eat better, and I’ll continue to do that, just for you.

Oh, and about that thing… You know, that thing that’s been bothering me for a while.. Could you lay off on that… We’ve been trying to, well, that’s kind of a secret, you know, and well, If you don’t lay off of that thing, then it makes it hard to accomplish that other goal we have. You know what I’m talking about. I promise not to do it to you too many more times.

I apologize for all the years I spent wishing parts of you were different. I can blame lots of people in the media for that, but really, it was me. I didn’t see you for how beautiful you are, how amazing you are, because not only have you been extremely kind, (only punishing me that one time with the kidney stone), you’ve also helped to create one of the most important things in my life -- my son. I didn’t realize how wonderful and amazing you were, until that night in October. You, my body, are a miracle in itself, able to sustain not only my life but create another.

Body, I thank you for putting up with me. If I were you, I’d have run away long ago--despite the fact that running would be exercise.

How to Lose your Husband in 10 Seconds or Less.

This morning, I nearly lost my husband. We were getting ready to leave (irritating our neighbors again by chugging up the diesel on an early Saturday morning), when he heard it. The whine of cars on the race track. As soon as I heard it, I had visions of him, nose in the air, much like an animal seeking prey. I knew I had lost him. The race track is over the hills, and not too far away, and I knew if he could follow the sound long enough, he'd pick up the scent of rubber on warm pavement and he'd be gone forever. Not gone forever because he'd be lost in the fast world of racing, gone forever because about 100 yards into his run for the race track there would be a boom as he stepped on an unexploded mortar from the old Army Fort near here. (I'm serious about the mortars. We're not allowed to leave the walking path.) When I reminded him of that, he snapped out of his zombie like state, wiped the drool off of his chin, and we got in the car and headed down the road. Whose idea was it to live this close to Laguna Seca? Today it was close but because it was cars and not motorcycles, I got lucky. The day they are motorcycles, well:

It's the hogs and the blood, the dust and the mud, the roar of a racing crowd.
The white in the knuckles, the chrome on the cycle he'll ride down Hwy 1.
It's boots and shafts, it's black skull caps, the wind, and he's gone, no doubt.
The grips and the gears, the fun and the fear, this thing called Harley Davidson.

Okay, so it doesn't rhyme perfectly, but take Garth Brooks' "the rodeo" and apply it to Motorcycle racing (and DBZ)... Yeah, that's Not the Momma.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Friday Quizzes...

So, I found this site, It's full of fun quizzes and things. Since Friday is typically a 'screw around' type of day, I'll post one quiz per week until either 1) I run out of quizzes, 2) I get bored with the whole thing, or 3) I flake out. It will probably be 3. Just ask my friends.

Here's the first one... You just try to pass that quiz!

JustSayHi - Science Quiz

Apparently Not the Momma rememebers more from science class than I do. Oh, wait, that's right.. He's going to school to get a Masters in applied physics.. He's still learning about this crap.

(oh and he was upset at the faulty math that went into the question about the rock and the helicopter)

JustSayHi - Science Quiz

Brandy -- Phone's for you!

Brandy: Your stalkers are calling and harassing me. Why? Because I'm lucky enough to have gotten your phone number after you disconnected it. Thank you. Today one of them called me, it was the same company that has called seven or eight times in the past week or so. They are nice enough to let you know when you pick up the phone that "someone will be with you in a moment regarding a personal matter." Funny, they never mention the company they are with. I told them the last three times that you didn't live here, that I didn't know you, and that you had nothing to do with this number anymore. I also used the words "take me off your list." I'm guessing that won't work with this company, because I got another telephone call from them today.

Me: Hello.. (pause) Hello?
Caller: (recorded message) Please wait, someone will (recording interrupted)--Brandy?
Me: No. Brandy doesn't live at this number. I told you that the last time. This is harrassment.
Caller: You don't know Brandy?
Me: No, I do not. I was unfortunate enough to get her number after she disconnected it. I told you three times that this was harrassment, this number is registered with the Do Not Call List, and I've asked you to remove me from your list. If you call again, I will go to the authorities.
Caller: When are you going?
Caller: When are you going?
Me: What are you saying?
Caller: You said you were going somewhere... When are you going?
Me: I SAID that I am going to go to the POLICE if you call this number again!

At this point I realized that the jerk on the other line was amusing himself by irritating me further. So I hung up. What should I have done? I have no idea who they are, they come up as "Out of Area." They call ALL the time, and I'm not about to pay for that service that pre-screens your calls. I'm not sure I can, because Police Departments are calling me, and they can't get through that either.

Oh well. As Not the Momma would say, California just went down a notch.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Can we go for four?

Nah.. we'll stick with three posts for the day...

Not the Momma told me about this, and now he's mad because I keep replaying it. It's tragic and funny at the same time. You want to cry for her, but you also want to smack her in the forehead to see if it might restart her brain.. You know, like you would an old TV set that suddenly lost picture.

1/5 of American student's can't find the US on a World Map... I'm pretty sure, she's in that category.. I'm also pretty sure she's one of the many US Students who can't form a complete coherent thought, let alone a complete sentence.


Our 15 month old is addicted to STARBUCKS???

Tonight started out like any normal night. Immediately after dinner, Little Monster started running around and asking us if he was going to get his nightly Baa-aaah? baaa-aaaah? Translation: bath.

Yes, Little Monster, you're going to get your bath. We went through our normal routine of him tossing about 3/4 of the water out of the tub in various entertaining ways. First there was the splashing, then the pouring, then the splashing again. He even let us lay him on his back to rinse his hair without too much ado. He got his vitamins, dried off, and got to run around and be "NAAAAKEEEEED BABY!" for a while. Then we got him in his jammies. Not the Momma put him to bed so that I could make an important phone call to my dad. All was fine. He said "niiieee niiiieee" made the kissy smack sounds, and rolled over to sleep.

3 minutes later he started crying. We ignored it a bit. Sometimes, he whines while he's falling asleep. 10 minutes later, the crying got a bit worse. He went to sleep. 20 minutes after that, there was a loud thud. Thinking perhaps that Not the Momma forgot to put the crib rail up, I went up to check on Little Monster. Turns out he wasn't asleep yet. Seeing Mommy come into the room, and then leave severely upset the poor child. I tried to get him back to sleep, but every time I tried to return him to his crib after that, he acted as if I was dumping him into a vat of sulfuric acid. He would let his heels and his head touch, and arch his back so high it looked like he was trying out to be some sort of gymnast. After a few minutes of what I like to call "let's torture Mommy time," Not the Momma and I decided we should take him on a car ride. It might help him forget whatever was bothering him so much.

Now, Not the Momma and I, we're bad. REALLY BAD. We both love Starbucks. So much, that when I lived in Virginia Beach, I stopped there every day. I stopped there every day until one day when I drove up in my husband's truck instead of my car... and the dude at the counter said.. "So, you traded in your little blue car for a truck, huh?" I was mortified that I spent so much money in such a regular fashion in one place. That day I resolved to quit drinking the stuff. It worked, because shortly thereafter (3 days later) I found out I was pregnant, no more heavily caffienated drinks for me. But now, Not the Momma is back, and I'm not pregnant anymore. Now, NOW we go to Starbucks, A. LOT. Until tonight, I didn't think that Little Monster understood where we were going, or even cared. But tonight, on our drive, we stopped to get a 'sip for the road.' He wasn't asleep yet, and when he saw that glowing green circle of friendly goodness... I'm a bit embarrassed to admit... His face lit up with a giant smile, he clapped his hands and said.. "YAY!!" more enthusiastically than he has in a long time. Why does he like Starbucks? Not sure. It isn't like we share our drinks with him on a regular basis, no seriously, he's only had a few sips his whole life. Nevermind that his first drink out of a straw was a frappuccino-like drink (thanks Mom). Tonight, though, we paid the same amount of money for a half gallon of milk for about 12 oz. He drank it, and is happily sleeping in bed, with no trauma, and no screaming this time...

But.. When? When did we brainwash our 15 month old kid to be excited about Starbucks? I'm concerned, and maybe... Maybe it's time for Not the Momma and I to lay off the expensive frozen coffee drinks. But then, I hear Not the Momma say "bah" and I totally agree. I'd die without the stuff.

Fun times at the Box Hardware Store...

My husband go on dates about once or twice a week. It's tradition. We've done it since before we had Little Monster. You think it's romantic? Maybe you should find out where we go first. We go to the Home Depot. Well, that's not fair. We used to rotate between Home Depot and Lowe's, but there isn't a Lowe's around here. We've continued that tradition, and now we just bring Little Monster along. There's always something good to be found at a big box store. My favorite thing? The teenagers who work there and have no clue what they are doing. They are my favorite, because they say the darndest things:

Me: We're looking for a wood dowel.
Teen1: A what?
Teen1: A Doooowwww eellll?
Me: Yes. A Wood Dowel.
Teen1: A daaaaooooowwwwweeehhhhhhllll??
Me: A piece of wood shaped like a cylinder. You know, a dowel?
Teen1: You mean like a closet rod? Yes. Exactly. A closet rod. A wood Dowel.

Me: I bought 30 rolls of sod, so please be sure to get those too when you are ringing this up.
Teen2: Soooood?
Me: Yes. Sod, you know Grass.
Teen2: Blank stare with his mouth slightly open. Saaaaaahhhed?
Teen2: Hey, *other employee* She uh, bought some sahw'd?
Other employee: Use code ######.

Nice, huh? The romantic things we do together. They bring out the best in me.

Monday, February 18, 2008

We did end up salvaging the weekend...sortof....

We spent an entire day (more, really) preparing for this, the three day weekend that was going to be sooooo much fun. We were taking our RV to a California State Park and camping. They don’t take reservations, but we were assured by the ranger that even on 3 day weekends, they don’t fill up this time of year.

We got into the truck, towing our mini-home behind us, excited for a weekend of fun at the beach, hiking, seeing Elephant Seals and family time, sans TV, Cell phones, internet, etc. After a quick stop at McD’s for dinner, we got to the state park around 8:00PM. Just on time.

We pulled up, got out to grab the registration. Not the Momma asked where the cash was… Cash? We need cash? I thought YOU got cash!? Fine, I grabbed the checkbook before leaving. Then we saw them. The words “No Out-of State Checks.” Great, Fine. They looked really full anyway. It wouldn’t have been fun trying to back the RV into a spot meant for a tent anyway. Plan B.

Drive down the road 45 miles to the RV “resort” we had considered staying at. Not quite ‘roughing’ it in any sense of the word, considering the Cable, Wi-Fi, Swimming Pool and Tennis Courts, but it would be fun. We could still drive back in to the beach, etc. We pull up at 8:45. No Vacancy. They are full. This place had over 200 spots, and they were full. In the middle of February. Great. Fine. Plan C.

Using Not the Momma’s phone and computer tethered together we found a campsite right on the beach another hour or so away. Drive down. They have spaces, but none big enough for us. Story of the night. I got out of the truck just to hear the ocean waves crashing… Wouldn’t that have been nice? To hear the waves crashing? Oh yeah.

Plan D. We find another spot up the road that has “VACANCY” written in big letters.. We drive through, and there seems to be one spot. Problem is, it requires some pretty extensive backing, it’s after 10:00PM, and after quiet hours. We’re pretty certain the ‘neighbors aren’t going to be happy listening to me shout out directions and the rumble of the diesel engine for the amount of time it would take to get the thing into the spot.

Plan E. What is plan E? I don’t know.. Let’s start driving back.. Maybe we’ll find somewhere to stop along the way. Somewhere we didn’t see or think of before. About half way back to the freeway, 6 deer jump out in front of us, Not the Momma Slams on the breaks, which lock up nicely. We stop. Safely. We are safe. Thank GOD. Not the Momma lets off the brakes and keeps going.. Only the tires on the fifth wheel don’t unlock. It took a few yards before they released. We get back to the freeway. We remember seeing a Rest Stop, which is good because at this point, it is nearly midnight, and we’re tired. We’re sorely disappointed, and we need a bathroom break. Little Monster starts waking up every 10 minutes or so and whines. He doesn’t like sleeping in his car seat. Can’t say I blame him. We stop at the Rest Stop. It’s now 12:15. Not the Momma heads inside to use the facilities, I try to get him to stay here for a few hours and sleep, but he said it wasn’t safe due to the ‘embellishments’ he found in the rest room. Oh, yeah, that and the place seemed absolutely DESERTED. That was Plan E. Let’s go to Plan F. As we pull away from the rest area, I realized that had we gone backwards through the last RV park, we would have been able to park the RV very easily. Nice thinking, huh? Just a few hours and a hundred miles too late.

Plan F? Find ANYWHERE to stop. Anywhere. At around 1:15, Not the Momma needs to stop again. Seems like 2 litres of Diet Mountain Dew are doing a number on him. We stop again in a McDonald’s parking lot with Truck Parking. I try again to convince him, please to stop here to sleep. He thinks he’ll be fine. We’re now only about an hour and a half from home. We’ll just go home. At 1:30, we saw it. The Fog. The fog was rolling through the valley, and it was thick enough that you couldn’t cut it. It looked more like a brick wall than a cloud. At this point the two of us started to secretly panic, the baby woke up again and started crying again. We were both at wits end. Then, we remembered the WalMart. WalMarts allow people to ‘camp’ overnight in RVs if they need somewhere to stay. Which WalMart did we end up in? The one 30 minutes from our house. About 30 miles from home, but it was 2:15AM, foggy, and we couldn’t go any further. We camped in Walmart. 30 minutes from our house. Fun, huh?

Not the Momma got up in the morning to try to find a place to camp, and saw it, as a choir of a thousand angels sang out in perfect harmony. A Starbucks. We got coffee, and after seeing the tires, decided to head home. When the tires locked up, one of the tires was torn up so badly that it was completely bald in one area. So, we took the fifth wheel back to her home in the storage lot. Unloaded it, and headed home. We got home at 9:00AM on Saturday. Less than 24 hours. Fun, huh?

Lessons learned: Bring Cash. Always Bring Cash. Even if you think Not the Momma is going to get some. NEVER believe the Ranger when they say they don’t fill up. Just camp somewhere you CAN make a reservation. Oh, and don’t try to go camping during the CA mid-state Fair, anywhere within a 300 mile radius of the CA mid-state Fair.

Saturday, after we got home and unpacked, we stopped at Home Depot and got sod for the backyard. We purchased nearly all the sod they had on the lot, thinking it should be plenty to fill the strip of backyard we have. After hours of backbreaking tilling, lugging, watering, cutting and arranging, we are still 8 rolls short. I was so glad Saturday that we weren’t sitting somewhere listening to the waves crash… Because now, we have grass.

Sunday, we found the local hospital, always a good thing in our family. Things tend to happen to us, especially on holidays.

Monday we drove up the coast into San Francisco, or nearly there, where I got to use the facilities in the nastiest porta-pot ever. I walked in and the smell hit me. I wished it had been a ton of bricks hitting me. As I hovered over the hole trying not to let my pristine, clean legs touch the germ infested seat, I gagged. And then it happened. The dreaded ‘splash-back.’ Some of that blue petrid nasty reeking port-a-john water splashed back onto my legs. I would have thrown up, but it would have meant being in that thing longer. The thought of leaving the place, pants around my ankles crossed my mind so that I could zip up in fresh air, but I managed to hold my breath for the next 30 seconds.

I realize that our weekend could have been worse, but, it was nothing like we planned. The relaxing, fun, technology free weekend was ruined. But, I think we managed to salvage it. We had smores for dinner tonight, made on the grill. I fed Little Monster a hot dog first, but for us grown-ups, dinner consisted of graham crackers, ooey, gooey marshamallows, and chocolate. What better way to end a three day weekend where nothing went like it was supposed to. I can’t think of one!

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Too Nice? Well, then.. Here ya go..

So... Earlier I posted about why I won't, will not, cannot EVER vote for Hillary. Then, Nessa kindly blasted me for being too nice. I don't think you'll have a problem with this then. I'm stealing the entirety of her post and putting it here, I know it breaks all kinds of blogging rules. But, you see, I just can't take any of it and leave the rest. It just won't work. It is exactly my thoughts, my view, except that no one is harassing me for endorsements. I'm not that important, but as for everything else, it sums up my exact thoughts. Down to EVERY DOT ON EVERY i and EVERY CROSS on EVERY T.:

I am not a political blogger; that's not why I blog. I am not
here on this earth to convince anyone to change their ways, never wear that
shade of green, eat only things which have no face, or let your children grow up
wild and free because the world will teach them discipline when they're older.
HOWEVER: My email is overflowing with inquiries from people wanting me to get
political and tell people who I feel would be the best president. Most of these
emails are asking me to endorse Hilary for the simple fact that she is a woman
and all of us women should stick together and elect one of our own to the White
House because it's TIME.


I am not a political person.
I vote, and I have always voted, because I firmly believe that voting is like
being on a jury, and if a jury/senate/White House/congress is supposed to be
full of my "peers," well, I want to be sure that it really is, and not full of
the kind of people who were on some of the juries/political offices I've seen.
Peers my ass. It was like a tour through Jerry Springer's waiting room, and
those people are NOT my peers.

Besides, people who don't vote rightfully
forfeit all whining rights. No votee, no whinee. Few things make me angrier than
someone griping about a political decision, who didn't even vote. If someone
didn't care enough to have a voice on election day, that person should shut up
forever about anything political. If he really cared, he would have voted.

I know that many people see no connection between someone's personal
life and his/her professional life, but I am not one of those people. I see a
person's personal life as a reflection of their priorities in their professional
life, and vice versa. I can not separate the two. If a person is an idiot in
his/her personal life, I believe he/she will be an idiot in the professional
life, also. And, again, vice versa. Perhaps this is not always the case; I
really don't care. I can't separate them. We are what we are, and most of what
we are we have chosen to be.

It's not just politicians, as you all well
know, either. We all present an image to the public, but if that image is to be
believable and viable in any way, we must give evidence that we are sincere by
the way we live our personal lives. Politics is full of reprehensible people
whose private lives are so filled with chosen horror that I could never in a
million zillion years take anything they ever said, professionally, in any kind
of serious way. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to fall, because it
invariably will. I am not interested in electing a train wreck to political

I could never vote for Hilary, and it's not because of her sex.
It's because I see her as an enabler of a man whose personal life is disgusting.
I see her as an enabler of a marriage that is a joke. I see her as an enabler of
a man who tries to pass off his inability to keep it in his pants as a
'disease.' Please. I also see one/half of a couple whose values are so far
removed from mine that I simply can't accept them in any way. When I think of
the Clintons, all I see is a dysfunctional family, a pack of liars, and a woman
who stayed in an adulterous marriage so she could climb higher as a politician.
I also see a person who supposedly represents a state in which she did not even
live. This is a joke, too. Add to all this the fact that the Clintons are
milking the taxpayers for all it's worth by charging the Feds rent for the extra
residence they built to house the Secret Service agents - to the tune of the
equivalent of their mortgage on that million-dollar home they bought to
establish residence in New York - that's a 10,000 mortgage, folks -this means
that the taxpayers are paying the Clintons' salaries, mortgage, transportation,
safety and security, and the salaries for their 12-man staff. Looking out for
the common people? The Clintons don't know what a common person is. They don't
hang out with common people. No, I don't want either of them representing me in
any way.

The Clintons are a joke. Worse, they are a joke without a punch
line. A never-ending build-up without any resolution. He is a grinning, selfish,
horny old man, and she is a scary cackling oaf with a hard chromium finish who
fakes tears when things don't go her way. Both are scrambling up the political
ladder on each other's coattails, both are kicking the ladder away beneath them,
and neither has a heart, or any kind of ethics other than the selfish kind.
I'm sorry, people who are constantly emailing me to endorse Hilary, but
there is no way that will ever happen. Ever, ever, ever, ever.

I would
never vote for someone based solely on his/her sex. That is ridiculous. I would
also never vote for someone whose personal life was a shambles and whose
personal choices were bad. People who break promises, commit adultery, cheat,
can't keep it in their pants or out of their pants, lie, steal, ingratiate, or
try to fool me into believing they'd be a good elected representative of me
while doing any of those things, make me heartsick and disgusted. Nobody is
perfect, but everybody could at least TRY to behave.

No, I could never
vote for Hilary, and I will never be able to endorse her in any way, unless she
was running for National Joke, or National Bitch, or National Poster Woman for
Dysfunctional Relationships, or Enabler of the Year, or some such.

will not be answering any more political emails, so those who are persistent in
wanting me to say something about politics can save themselves the trouble. I
might comment, but I won't answer emails about politics. You wanted to know what
I thought about Hilary and now you know. Are you happy? I bet not.

Besides, who in the world would care what somebody like me thought about
a candidate? Certainly Hilary doesn't care about women like me. Hilary's
"choice" is not the same as mine.

It's common knowledge that I am a firm
believer in choice for all women, and for all men, too. The difference between
me and a lot of other firm believers in choice is that I believe the choice
comes BEFORE the consequences ofr the choice. Anything else and you're just
someone who got caught with his/her hand in the cookie jar and now you want
amnesty AND the cookie AND no consequences for putting your hand in the sugar;
you know, as if your hand being there wasn't your choice in the first place.

So, no Hilary for me. And if you are one of the many women who
are planning to vote for Hilary simply because she's a woman, please stop and
think, and think HARD, before you do that. It may very well be high time to put
a woman in the White House - I look forward to that day - but this is not the
right woman. Not for me, anyway.

I do have a candidate in mind, but his people are not bombarding me with requests for endorsement. That just makes me like him more.

To sum up: Hilary - Absolutely not.

Any questions?

Now, Do you have questions? Do you? Because you can read the rest of her stuff at BlogHer, or you can read more of her stuff at Scheiss Weekly. Just as it Says. Maybe someday I'll have the balls or courage or guts to say about 1/3 of the things she says, and maybe I'll even figure out a way to say it as well as she does.

Seriously... That's all that I'm going to say (or let someone else say) for me in the political arena... for now.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Recent Search Strings

It's been a while since I've posted the searches that will bring people here.

The most popular search to find my page:

"igo tip 103" Go ahead. do a search. I come up before the I-Go Store. Why? because they suck that much. Yeah. A stupid blog that no one reads comes up before the actual IGO store!

The most popular idea that finds my page:

This really isn't a specific search, but more of an idea. -- Weaning, Milk, Formula, and whiney babies. There are a LOT of people out there who are dealing with weaning and how to get their babies to drink formula and milk. And when they search, they find my page. Let me help you out. Formula is just nasty. N-A-S-T-Y. But, babies need it to survive... I suggest trying to drink formula yourself. Then, find one you like the taste of. Start there. Or, you can trust this guy to do the job for you. I think he did a pretty good job of it.

Funniest search string this year & Wrong idea.

"pictures of a drunk trying to walk a straight line" Yeah, totally NOT what my blog is about... You definitely won't find pictures of a drunk here... Well, you might find pictures that look like they were taken by a drunk, but not pictures of a drunk.

Most annoying thing that people search for and find my page with:

There are a lot of people that do image searches for The Rock. A while ago, I posted about Not the Momma and his issues with body fat. You see, he's not fat, but he doesn't pass bodyfat standards often, because he's very tall and not twig skinny.... So, I found out that the rock would not meet the body fat standards set forth by the Military. I mistakenly linked to a picture of him. NOW, people are finding my page because of it. I deleted the pictures, but apparently others have linked to MY picture (which doesn't exist anymore) and now I can't get rid of it. Blah.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Good Cheese comes from Happy Cows...

Happy Cows come from California??? I think not.

Warning!! This video is HIGHLY disturbing.

Skirting Politics.. or rather.. Politicians in Skirts.

I have been trying to avoid screaming out to the world, or internet rather, my feelings about the democratic nominee, but the time has come.

I'm afraid. Very Afraid. I don't want Hillary Clinton to be president. I'm worried for my husband's career, I'm worried for our health and retirement plan. I'm also worried that the crisis that is our health care system is going to get a million times worse if she steps into office. Why? Because I don't trust her. Don't get me wrong. I'd love to see a woman in office, but I don't want to see her in office. I don't trust her.

You're all going to hate me when I finish saying this. I'm going to alienate whatever readers I have (not many) that don't know me personally, and probably alienate those of you that do know me as well.

I. Don't. Trust. Hillary. Clinton. Do I trust McCain? No. Do I trust Obama? Not really. I don't trust any politician, but the one of these three I trust the least... Hillary. Why? Because. Her husband cheated on her, over and over again. He then lied about it. Over and Over again. And, for some reason, he's still her husband. I don't get it. Why would someone as strong and powerful as she is keep such a loser around? Because keeping him around would pave her way to the Presidency. I don't think it's because she loves him. I think it's because she was USING him. I'd also bet some advisor told her that no one who has been divorced has made it to the Presidency, let alone a divorced single woman. So, because it was a direct benefit to her, she kept him around. What does that say for who she's going to pick for Chief of Staff? What happens when her Chief of Staff lies? Is she going to keep them around becuause it will personally benefit her? I don't know. But so far, her history in that arena, in my mind... It isn't good.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Why people like us shouldn't be allowed to own dogs:

Our dogs aren't perfect. In fact, sometimes they're downright rotten. The girl dog has been known to leave packages in the house from time to time, and so has the boy dog, albeit less often. Until tonight, it had been awhile since either one had misbehaved like that. Until. Tonight.

I was getting the baby ready for his bath, undressing him, etc. I usually undress him, get the water running while he chases Not the Momma, threatening to shoot him with his "fire hose." I walked into the bathroom, and stepped in it. Barefoot. It was a big pile of dog doo. A Giant pile of dog doo. A pile that looked like it had been left by a Great Dane rather than one of my 20 pound terriers. I immediately started yelling. Both dogs looked equally guilty. Not the Momma came out and took the dogs out to their kennels in the garage for a time-out, while he yelled at them too. Meanwhile, I'm gagging, trying to clean it up. After about 10 minutes of this, I notice it's tracked all over the upstairs. The upstairs I just spent the entire evening cleaning. The baby was oblivious to Not the Momma's and my frantic cleaning spree...

... apparently, we were oblivious to something else. After Little monster played peekaboo with me... IN MY CLOSET... IN MY CLEAN CLOTHES, he ran out of the room and into his bedroom. That was when I noticed it. The streak running down the back of his leg and on his foot. There was dog doo ALL OVER THE BABY. HE HAD been PLAYING in the DOG DOO.... Immediately I freaked out and started cleaning him off. While I was cleaning I noticed something. The dog doo that was all over him... Seemed to have come FROM him...

wait... that means.....

THAT GIANT GREAT DANE TURD IN THE BATHROOM CAME FROM LITTLE MONSTER! And now the dogs were being punished for it. Oh lord. We got the baby in the tub, and I went down and made up with the dogs, giving them their favorite treat.. Greenies (don't tell me how I'm killing my dog either, because they've eaten millions of them and have been fine every time). Not the Momma wondered why the Girl Dog, who normally sulks and rolls over into the submissive position whenever she's in trouble, came over to him wagging her tail and licking him after the whole ordeal... The Boy Dog... Well, he looks guilty every time anyone gets in trouble, so that explains his behavior...

We are the WORST. DOG PARENTS. EVER. Yes. Ever. But they don't seem to know. And Little Monster? No more dried apples for him. ;)


That's right.. We're officially in trouble. Little Monster... Well, he's kind of an adrenaline junky. I didn't know that was something you would find out at such a young age. He's spent the morning standing on all fours with his head at the floor (much like he does when he's getting ready to stand up), keeping his head down for a while.. Then, standing up fast... He likes the head rush.

For the past thirty minutes, he's been running around in circles, making himself dizzy.. Then giggling and yelling as he falls down to the ground. He's crazy that kid. But, I love him anyway.

Friday, February 01, 2008

Grocery Shopping can be fun....

... and no, I'm not on drugs. Not yet, anyway. The other day I went grocery shopping. I have to say that it was probably the most enjoyable experience I've had while shopping by myself with the Little Monster. He was very well behaved, and enjoyed the trip. Not because I drugged him, but because I picked out a "fun" cart.

Rather than have him sit in one of the rusty old carts that they have sitting out in the open, for the first time I opted for the cart that has two steering wheels at the top of the cart (where he'd normally be sitting anyway), because it was plastic, and not likely to give him tetanus if he opted to chew on the cart like he normally does. This was the best. decision. ever. He spent the entire time "driving" around, and flirting with people. He loved the fact that he could see where we were going and had his own steering wheel. If he started to get unruly, I'd just tell him he needed to help drive, or we'd crash. Sometimes we did crash, because I'm a terrible driver and the cart is a bit bigger than normal. And then there's the fact that I put him in the "passenger" side, rather than the driver side. Not an issue until the 15 month old starts grabbing everything within reach because he's on the wrong side of the cart. What is in reach? Just about everything! But all in all, I love these carts. I think I'll look for them whenever I grocery shop from now on. Now.. if only Target could get some of these carts.. Who knew that he was already old enough to enjoy things like "driving" around the grocery store? Not the Momma kept telling he he isn't old enough to enjoy that stuff. Is it because he really isn't, or is it because we aren't ready for him to be the little boy and not the baby? I don't know..