Absolution For My Resolution

Happy New Year, Ya'll!

I've been thinking that I should try to work out my resolutions thru writing, but I'd rather ignore them for now. In my head they seem like super ideas but the daily practice of them....well..... so not off to a good start.

Please view super idea, Exhibit A: Life is too short to spend time hating anyone. I think Kristin summed this up best when she said: Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffft. I totally disagree! And seriously? I have no fkn idea what I was thinking when I thought I could embrace this super idea seeing as how Exhibit B is the perfect example of why: People make it too damn easy for me to hate them!

See where I'm at? Much easier to just ignore them for now than actually have to work on being a better person, oui?

So let us discuss a few things that I am currently obsessed with. And when I say discuss, I mean you listen while I do all the talking.

First up: People.com. I know, I know....I've discussed this before. But I am no longer just checkin' it once a day. Try hourly. There should probably be a sense of shame with this, but it really is the best source for all the news about people. Especially people I can make fun of! When Star Tracks captures Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears and any Kartrashian out there..... I am in HEAVEN! The picture of Christina in a tee shirt she was wearing as a dress, paired with siren red heels, holding onto her boyfriend's arm for dear life as she attempted to walk down a wee set of stairs from the restaurant they were leaving: made me laugh so hard I peed! I take no issue w/ the siren red heels- Louboutin. Loved them. And if Christina was, oh say..... FIFTY some pounds lighter, she'd have pulled off the tee shirt dress. But given her thigh resembled a meaty pork shank, and this picture appeared around the same time as her appearance at the Michael Jackson tribute in London; two words: New Stylist.

Perhaps someone from Lane Bryant. Just sayin.

There are also news articles that require you to actually read. You know, if you wanna take a break from making fun of people. Lynda texted me the other day to say she was spiraling over the news of Katy Perry & Russell Brand's break up; so much so she'd taken to bed and was currently ignoring her laundry. My response was that the Perry/Brand's had no effect on me as I was currently consumed with the story of the model/blogger who lost her left eye and left hand in a propeller incident. As in: she disembarked from the plane and walked into a propeller.

Insert shrieking in horror HERE!

As People.com gives me almost daily updates on her condition, I can tell you that she is now experiencing a loss of depth perception from the head trauma. This coupled with the fact that she sees the world around her out of ONE EYE; my biggest fear is that she is running into walls and tripping all over herself because how far away is that chair REALLY? And then if she were to go down, she's only got one hand to brake her fall! Seriously, this shit keeps me up at night! For the love of God, I demand a made for TV movie! And like, yesterday already.

People.com. Give the gift of People.

*********************************************************

We interupt this blog for the author to have a complete FKN meltdown.

As she just lost 3/4 of her nearly edited post!

Having just spent 15 FKN minutes trying to recover her post, she's packing it in.

The title won't make any sense now; but given I had just compared Gavin DeGraw to Jesus.....I'm pretty sure this is proof that God hates me.

Christmas, change, insight, mochas!

Here I am!

Miss me?

Did you know there are only 3 days to Christmas?

Are you ready?

I am!

Unless you factor in the fact that my house is a disaster and you can't see the kitchen table on account of the oodles of wrapping paper, ribbons and bows piled all over it.

And under it.

And just in the general area of it.

Here's how my December has played out:

The first weekend is always spent getting the tree & decorating the tree. This year, I was allowed to come with Mark & the Monsters; but I was not allowed any direct involvement in actually picking out the tree. It went something like this:
Mark: So I've scoped it out and I'm down to this one right here, that one to your right....no.... your other right. And that one way down on the left.

Me: What about this one? I like this one!
[I am literally holding onto the tree I like.]

Mark: So I think this one.......
[And he is literally walking AWAY from me and heading to the tree that was on my other right.]

When it was all said and done and the tree [that was on my other right] was loaded in the back of our truck, I said to Mark: Explain to me why I'm here? I played absolutely no role in this venture. And he looks at me like I'm speaking Chinese and says while shaking his head: We're spending quality time together, Sister.........duh!

It took 20 minutes to get the tree in the stand and in the house and 3 fkn days to decorate it.

It took an additional 4 days to remove all of the boxes out of my living room; and another 7 days for me to actually finish decorating the room.

I may or may not have (1) spent an entire Sunday crying over the fact that Costco fk'd up my Christmas cards [they re-printed them for free but lost my calendar order; insert more crying!] or (2) have become so frustrated [read:emotional] over stringing the lights on the tree that I actually RIPPED them from said tree with one mighty yank!

We succeeded in our annual marathon Christmas shopping Saturday which always takes place the second weekend in December. But it took until this evening to complete the task of wrapping all the gifts.

Are you seeing my pattern here?
[One step up, and two steps back....]

Sigh.....

The upside to this year's holiday is I'm definately less "hate-y" about it.

But before you get all, "Ooooh...progress!"; let me say this:
There is no progress. I still hate stupid people and I still think Christmas as a holiday is completely overrated. I still hate egg nog and I am still a staunch supporter of banning Christmas music in the work place.

My lack of "hate-y" simply stems from the fact that I have spent a large portion of this month in tears.

I miss my Dad.

He too was very "hate-y" about this holiday and we spent a lot of time commiserating about it. He hated the "business of buying presents" and the need "to over do", which are my biggest issues. But he loved the food and spending time with his "babies". It was his job to peel all of the potatoes on Christmas Day; and he always rinsed and stacked my dishes into neat little piles after dinner; and he would stand in the middle of my kitchen and make proclaimations such as "How great it is to be here, on this fine day!"

I find myself wanting this holiday to be over with because I'm pretty sure I'm scared to death to face it without my Dad.

Whoa........insightful.

I don't like change and I've had a lot of it this year. I took a new job, with a new judge, in a new county. I lost my Judge [retired; hence the new job]. I lost my Dad. I lost my friends. Not seeing Tk & LoLo every day has been....well. Shitty.

And while I like my new job, and I like my new Judge; I have no anchor.....I'm still feeling my way. I am adrift. I was the Queen Bee in Linn. I am now just tiny krill.

For the record, I don't "do" tiny krill. Once I get my bearings, I see Shark in my future.
[Although, if I keep up this emotional eating it will be more like Killer Whale!]

So, where am I going with all of this?
Fk if I know!

I'm pretty sure this blog is more for me than anyone else.

But. The tree is up. The gifts are wrapped and all that's left is the cleaning. Then family invades and the food is devoured and all that's left is the cleaning! Perhaps new traditions will be born from this Christmas? That's certainly something to look forward to. All I know is I've got 3 more days.

And with my new job: a Starbuck's on every corner in a 3 block radius. How many Peppermint Mochas does a girl need?

Depends on the crying, but I've been averaging 2-3 a week.

Boo Hoo......

Ducks LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSE!

Losers!

Childish?

Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffft! Without a doubt.

But 'dis be MY blog!

What can I say?

It's almost 1:30p and I just poured my THIRD cocktail.

Shameful?

Perhaps.

But it's really not my fault. See, I decided it was high time to clean my shower. I hate cleaning shower stalls. Seriously. I'll scrub 10 toilets before it dawns on me that I might be dying from the mold spores growing in my shower!

Where is an obsessive compulsive when you need one?!

So. Given the fact that I ignore the condition of my shower, it was the state of my toilet that was a clear indicator that I needed to spend some time in my bathroom with my friends: Rubber Gloves, Tilex & Scrubbing Bubbles!

Sexy.

So while my toilet was "soaking" in all things Lysol Cling, I decided: WTF. I'll clean the shower.

Insert me into the shower stall, flip flops on my feet; big wig piled on top of my head and a brand new bottle of Tilex in my rubber gloved hand.

Fast forward 2 minutes and I am GASPING for breath! Please view me, fat ass and all, staggering out of said shower; eyes watering & me screaming JESUS CHRIST, REALLY?!

Note to self: open your windows and turn on the bathroom exhaust fan PRIOR to the use of Tilex.

I headed to the kitchen immediately and poured myself a stiff cocktail.

Which I downed. Promptly.

I am now on my third and while while my sense of smell is still impaired; my vision has recovered nicely. With my third cocktail in hand, I am off to tackle another bathroom.

If my family is lucky, I will continue to drink, clean and serenade them all with my own cover version of my iPod Playlist on shuffle play!

Ping! Pong.

So in the middle of talking Kristin off the ledge last night, she asks me if I know where she can find a plunging, low back bra.

We went from private school, bullshit politics to bras in under 10seconds!

I used to spend a lot of my time saying WHAT THE FK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! to KB; to which she'd always reply: "Keep up, Babe!"; but I've grown accustomed to her Girl Interupted schtick. So I fired off: "Nordy's should have you covered. Fredricks of Hollywood? "

Her response? "I told Big Daddy when we were buying the new car last weekend, Lil Red is the only car that's ever made me HAPPY."

See how quick she does it? We are now going to talk about cars. Specifically our convertibles. For the record: I GOT MINE FIRST! The footnote to that statement would read: Kristin's Mercedes trumps my Boog. I'll spare you the play by play of our IM session as it literally reads like 2 chicks suffering from individual cases of ADD, one with a significantly more severe case than the other.

Politics, bras, cars, happy, SQUIRREL!

FFS.

As we are wrapping up our IM, Kristin asks: "When can I expect a new blog? I need something to laugh at." To which I say: "I've tried a few times....I can't find my rhythm. I need a topic that interests me or at the very least, something to really piss me off. The Globes are coming up.....you KNOW I'll find inspiration there!"

KB: Private school politics? Plunging, low back bras for girls over an A-cup?
Me: Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffft! Is there even such a thing as an A-cup? I call bullshit. A fkn myth, I'm telling you.

We end with X's & O's and Kristin telling me it's too fkn hard to type in the dark. While drunk.

Pretty sure I just found my start!

Last Call

My Dad died....... July 2. A few hours after I left him.

Daddy. That's what I called him. Or Father....when I was being sarcastic. I was also fond of calling him Chuckie White Shoes.....on account of his fondness for a pair of white, point-y toed shoes, circa 1967. He had his own style, my Daddy did.

It's a horrible thing to watch someone you love die. In the moment, you feel helpless. In the aftermath, you are overcome with grief......and relief. And therein lies the struggle. You desperately miss that person you loved and yet it's a blessing to know they are no longer in pain.

Congestive heart failure wins.

My Dad was in and out of the hospital for the last nine months of his life, almost every two weeks; his lungs would fill up with fluid and he couldn't breathe. "It feels like I'm drowning", he'd say. In January, my brother (Nick) flew in from Florida when Chuckie landed in the cardiac unit at OHSU. The situation was grave, but our Dad rallied and was ultimately released. Nick flew home and we all said a little prayer that this was it.

It wasn't. In and out; in and out of hospitals he was. "Tune ups", he'd call them. He'd stay for a few days, they'd pump the fluid off his lungs and he'd go home. For about 2 weeks. In May, he landed in the hospital for 21 days. He was intebated twice, coded once and when the dust cleared we were told by the doctors that they'd exhausted all medical interventions. His heart was too weak...... it was now time to make him comfortable.

We brought him home the first weekend in June and for the first 2 1/2 weeks, he seemed to be doing well. He was on oxygen, which he hated, but he could walk on his own & take care of his own needs. Mark & I had a family vacation planned for mid June and Daddy made me promise we'd go...... he'd "never forgive me" if I didn't.....and so I did. I called him everyday to check in and we'd visit for about 10 minutes and then he'd get tired and we'd end the call. "I love you, Daddy", I'd say. And then I'd hang up and cry for 1o minutes. I knew he was failing. He was losing his speech and short term memory. Mo, "his sweetie", told me he was sleeping alot and would "fade in and out" during the day. She said when he heard my voice on the phone, he'd immediately perk up....but the minute we hung up, he'd go back to sleep. Three days before my family and I were to return home, Mo called and said I had to get Nick to fly out. Dad was asking for him. "I need to see my boy", he said. I knew when I left that there was a good chance my Dad could die while I was gone, but I was ok with it. I'd spent every spare minute with him that I could and we had said the things that we needed to say to one another. "We're square", he'd said. But I knew that wasn't the case with Nick, and so I made the call. "It's time to come home, Nico..... he won't be able to let go until he sees you."

Nick flew in on a Saturday and stayed four days. He spent all day with Dad, who was by now in a hospital bed in the living room. He wasn't eating, but for a few bites here and there; and he slept most of the day. But he still recognized his family and he and Nick were able to say their final goodbyes.

I arrived the following Tuesday. Mark and I hit the state of Oregon and drove immediately to my Dad. We stayed for 3 hours, gathered up Nick and his belongings and took him with us back to Salem where Gina was waiting to take Nick to Portland to catch his flight out. I don't ever remember seeing my brother cry like he did when he walked out of Dad's house and climbed into our truck. The magnitude of knowing he'd never see our Dad again struck a might blow. He cried the entire drive to Salem. I cried right along with him.

I continued to call Dad the next two days and by Friday, while sitting at work, I was overcome with the feeling that I had to see him. It was a pull.....like a magnet. The Monsters were with Mark's parents, so from work I drove home, changed and headed straight for Dad & Mo.

I was not prepared for the next 12 hours. Daddy had completely deteriorated. He was combative and only had flashes of recognition. My first three hours were spent struggling to keep him in his bed. He wanted out but didn't understand that he had no strength to support himself. "Daddy, NO!" I'd say, using my body to block him and my weight to practically sit on him to keep him from getting up. At one point, after about 5 minutes and me thinking he was done, he began to struggle up and against me and I said in my best smart ass tone: "I swear to God, Dad......I will knock you out if I have to! And I weigh more than you now!!" His face flashed with recognition and his response was: That's my Baby.

As the night wore on and the struggle continued and the meds had no effect, Mo called for the hospice nurse and I called Mark. Mo didn't want to be left alone, and I didn't want to be without Mark. So Marky jumped in the truck and came to our rescue. Daddy immediately recognized his "Sweet Lou" and about an hour later, the drugs kicked in and he was peaceful.

We stayed through the night and into the next morning; enduring another three hour struggle in between. At one point all three of us were keeping Dad in bed. No one said it aloud but I know we were all thinking it: If we could just give him one big dose of morphine.......

That thought. It's not just to end the suffering of your loved one. It's to end yours as well. Watching death take it's time, slowly robbing your loved one of their dignity;inconsiderate to the fact that you are helpless to their pleas for help. "Just kill me", Daddy would say. And he'd look at Mo and ask, "Does my daughter know? " And I was sitting at his bedside the entire time. "I'm here, Daddy....I'm here". And right before the drugs took effect, he saw me one more time. "Love you, Baby".

Those were the last words he said to me.

My Dad died at 12:20 p.m. on Saturday, July 2. Mo called us at 12:30 p.m. The last thing Mo had said to us when we left her just a few hours earlier was: If there is a God, He better show himself soon.

Amen.

There was no funeral. I promised Daddy I wouldn't let that happen. When we are all ready, the family will head to the coast and give Daddy back to the ocean. I promised him I would make that happen.

We are now in the process of going through his belongings. Samuel has been wearing "Poppa Charlie's" t-shirt that has Yosemite Sam on it. Daddy loved Yosemite Sam. The t-shirt is so big on Sam, it looks like a nightgown. He doesn't care. It smells like Poppa.

My Dad never bought into the idea of music cd's. It was hard enough for him to transition from vinyl to cassette tapes; he wasn't about to convert all his music to cd's. So Mo gave us the biggest of all Daddy's boom boxes.....oh yeah. Boom boxes. And every night, Mark & I choose a new cassette tape and listen to Daddy's music. I cry. Sometimes we dance. But we always remember the man.

He loved the Blues and Merle Haggard. He taught himself how to play guitar when he was a teenager and besides his kids, his guitar was the constant love of his life. He joined the Army at 17, missed his high school graduation for boot camp and was a Paratrooper in the 181st Airborne Division. He served his country in the Vietnam War and was honorably discharged after he broke his ankle on a jump mission. The Army wouldn't clear him to jump again and so they parted ways. He was a garbage man, a mill worker, a logger, a construction worker and a bartender. He was blue collar. He was born in New Jersey, was raised by foster parents and spent his entire life wondering where he came from. He was married twice. And divorced twice. He spent the majority of my adolescent years high on cocaine. He entered rehab when I was 18 and he was clean for the last 23 years. He loved ice cream, duct tape and vice gripes. He shopped at the Goodwill and had a fondness for fine point pens. It took 7 days to make his secret spaghetti sauce. He used to walk around the house, half singing-half yelling a song he made up about "baby chicks and baby ducks". And he could stand in front of the mirror while wearing 70's flared bottom trouser pants, paired with what can only be described as the male version of a peasant blouse, and pointy- toed boots and know that he looked good!

I miss him. And Nico misses him. We all miss him. He was a giant in our lives. Nick & I were talking on the phone last week and I said something about wandering through my house; too antsy to sit down but unable to focus long enough to accomplish anything. And Nick responds with: Yeah....you got Dad's personality.....always wound up!

I should be offended. And yet, I find it comforting. Daddy always said: You are your father's daughter.

Yes. Yes I am.

Viva Las Vegas........

Bitches!

Guess who's in Vegas?
KB & me!

How long we been here?
On our second day.

Guess who got a call at 5:15 a.m. from SW Airlines saying her 7:25 a.m. flight was delayed so they just went ahead & booked me on the non- stop, 6:55 a.m. flight and I had 30 minutes to get to the airport?
That'd be me.

Guess who's soooooooo fkn lucky her sister lives 15 min from the airport aaaaaaaaaaand said fkn lucky person just happened to have previously stayed the night?

Me.
And me.

Did I make it?
Yes, I did.

How much time did I have from the time I made it to the gate to the time they began boarding?
THREE fkn minutes.

Who gets picked up from the airport by a limo and heads directly to the liquor store?
WE DO!

Who spent four hours poolside slathered in SPF; their lips slicked with gloss while ordering one Dirty South after another?
WE DID.

Who enjoyed fine dining at the Eiffel Tower, Paris overlooking the Bellagio fountains and watched said fountains go off every 20 minutes during their 6 course sampler meal?
KB & I.

Who took the elevator ride up to the top of the Eiffel Tower; 46 stories high and became nauseated and almost threw up in a garbage can?
I so wish I could that it was Kristin......

[Note to Paris hotel management: vent your kitchen's exhaust somewhere other than UP! The smell of cooking meat at 46 stories high is enough to make anyone hurl.]

Which I did not.

But it was a close fkn call, Folks!

We just returned from over three hours at the pool surrounded by Housewives of Random Cities in America.

Kill me.

I pulled the plug when TIFFANY reminded me her name was not Diana. Instead of telling her "It's a fkn miracle I made the effort to even call you by A name, let alone your name.....", I hailed over our lame-ass cocktail waitress and yelled: CHECK PLEASE! Said lame-ass waitress then took 10 minutes to "bring our check" and when she showed up, proceeded to stand over our lounge chairs and say: "Ha ha! I knew I was forgetting something!"

To which I said to KB: That's cause to forget her tip.....you got me?

And just because I am me, on the way out I motioned over the waitress I'd watched bust a move all day for her customers and said: Hi Jenifer......you work tomorrow? Yes, she said. SUPER!, I said. You come find the two of us and if we are not in your section, we'll move. Cuz you busted your ass today and we like that....and this one here (pointing at KB), she's a hell of a tipper when I sign off on it!

And that's how you do it in Vegas when your BFF refuses to let you pay for anything and you're a smart mouthed bitch like me!

[Postscript: I drafted this post on Friday, May 13 and it's taken this long to actually post it. It was a comedy of errors, what with Blogger being down for 20.5 hours and me using my new iPad.....and it being so much smarter than I am! I will have the second half of the Vegas experience posted soon!]

How U Like ME Now?

Just so we are all on the same page:

The number of families who requested Mark & I as their child's baseball coach has gone up from 14 to EIGHTEEN. Any sort of smug, In your face! revelry that I was feeling before, has been replaced with sheepishness as the Little League Peeps are not too happy with our popularity.

They could totally care less that this all about ME.

In related news, Mark has decided that I can no longer drink margaritas and email the team parents.

TEAM PLAYER

Baseball season is upon us.

Mark picked up our gear and player roster tonight. We are coaching AA ball again and this year we are......... wait for it........The Bowling Green Hot Rods!

People say, Who?

The Bowling Green Hot Rods- the Minor A team of the Tampa Bay Rays.

Vrooom! Vrooom!

But I digress.

Anyway, baseball is in our face and it's the little things in life that really fire us up. Two things, actually. First, we couldn't get over how nice and NEW our gear bag was. Last years was so old and tattered and the stupid zipper would only sometimes zip. This year our bag is multiple colors and NEW and sturdy with wall supports so that when you open it, it doesn't collapse into itself. Did I mention NEW? So what, are you wondering, could top a new gear bag?

NEW CATCHER'S GEAR, BABY!!!
2 sets of shin guards.
2 chest plates.
1 NEW mask and,
a SWEET! catcher's mitt.

Last year our catcher's gear was....... pitiful. The shin guards were too big for our kids, so to keep them up I had to cinch them so tight I was fearful I'd cut the blood supply off in my Catcher's legs. The chest plate's back straps were constantly getting tangled in all the fraying that was occurring on the straps themselves and we had no catcher's mitt. Pathetic would be another word to describe our shameful situation.

Upon seeing our new gear, insert two mildly overweight, 40- somethings completely losing their minds in the garage! There was jumping up and down; a high five so vigorous it may or may not have hurt my (delicate & feminine)hand; and someone exclaimed to the neighborhood: This is fkn AWESOME!
(Shame on all of you who immediately assumed it was me! You're right, of course, but seriously- shame on you for assuming the worst in me!)

Getting so worked up over the new gear left us with a mighty thirst, so we made ourselves a cocktail and commenced to looking over our player roster. We had three returning players from last year. Huh? I knew that 5 returning parents had requested Mark because they contacted me to confirm we were coaching again.

So I say to Mark: WTH is going on with this list? Where's Bill and Ted?
(Not their real names...minors. Protecting them....and cracking myself up in the process!)

Mark: WHAT? They're two of our best players!

Me: Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Who are not on our roster.

Mark (with a know it all smirk on his face): Well.....the director did say she had FOURTEEN families request me......

Me: FOURRRRRRRRRR TEEEEEEEEEEN?

Mark (cracking himself up): Did I stutter? Four. Teen.

Me: OMG! That has to be some sort of record for coach requests! I'm so proud of you, Mark..... you really are the best coach out there.........I guess they really couldn't give us every kid that wanted to be on your team.

Mark: Yeah, that wouldn't be fair. Still.......two of our best kids....And Bill's been with us for two years.

Me: I can't get over the number.....FOURTEEN. It's so impressive.......and such an amazing reflection of you and your coaching style.

Mark: Yeah......about that........ they told me what the number reason the parents gave for requesting me was......

Me: What was it? Patience? Skill? Oh! You're ability to relate the fundamentals of the game to the kids on their level?

Mark: Uh.....no.......

Me: Tell me! What was the reason everyone kept asking for you?

Mark: They said it was because of our communication style with the parents.

Me: Wait, what?

Mark (sheepish): Yeah.....the parents who requested me told the director it was because they either knew of or had heard about how we communicate with parents; all the information we continue to pass along throughout the entire season.....well the word is out and we are the best. So they all asked for me.

Me (incredulously): YOU?

Mark (starting to snicker): ME. But I told the director I couldn't take the credit for that.....I told her that was all you. I told her you run the show when it comes to information.

Me: So it really isn't about you. It's about ME! They just don't know it's ME! ME! ME! ME!

Mark: Hey now...... there's no "I" in "Team", Sister.

Me: No.....but there's an "M" and an "E" and that spells ME!

Very Guy, Very Gay

Two weeks ago my husband decided it was time for us to get new cell phones.

Seriously..... it's a toss up as to what I'd like to do the least.

Go pick out new phones or step foot on a car lot.

Kill me. Now. Please!

Super short, "catch you up" back story: Mark & I have been using Go! phones for the last two years because we refused to pay AT&T money to let us out of our contracts. We also refused to buy any more of their POS phones, since they all break within a year....or 60 days if your name is Mark. Armed with the confirmation that both our contracts were up, Mark was on a mission to give AT&T the international bird and get us both a phone that wasn't the size of a candy bar.

Long story short & 2 hours later, we walked out of the Verizon store armed with a new plan & two new phones.
And Hell, Yes! It was totally satisfying to tell Ashley from AT&T that her "mission to provide excellent customer service" was about 13 fkn years too late! And no, there is NOTHING else you can do for me today.

I chose the LG Octane. LOVE IT. It's a flip phone with a full keyboard for texting. That's it. No data plan, no email, no bells and whistles. Simple. Cause for me, Smart Phones are STUPID.
I do have a camera and I've yet to figure out how to use it. It took me 24hrs to figure out how to ANSWER the goddamn phone.....the camera could take months!

Marky got himself a Droid. The biggie popcorn Droid. With the data plan. And the 8 mega pixel camera. The phone does everything but wipe his ass for him.
And I am confident that if the phone could, he would let it!

Since getting his Droid, Mark has not put it down. It's never out of his sight; attached to his hip when not in his hands. The first thing he did was download a Green Bay Packer wallpaper. The second thing he did was download Ozzy Osborne's "Crazy Train" as his ring tone. The third thing he did was figure out how to make his screen light up from sleep mode.
This may or may not have taken hours and included a phone call to our Verizon specialist, Josh.

This week he has done nothing but download free songs onto his Droid. He started off Very Guy: AC/DC, Cheap Trick, Ozzy, Great White, Tesla, Queen; alot of classic Rock; a few 80's Hair Bands. You get the gist. But we've now turned a corner.......and we've done nothing but play the following game for the last 24hrs. I call it: Hey Babe, Who Sings.....? It goes like this:

Mark: Hey Babe, who sings that song about the night?

Me: Gotta be a little more specific......

Mark: Oh...... let's see...... it's a duet.

Me: Yeah....little more would be helpful..................

Mark: Kelly Clarkson is the female voice and you said we saw her perform it on an awards show and I said she looked really chubby.

Me: Kelly Clarkson & Jason Aldean. "Don't You Wanna Stay."

Mark: Yeah! That's it. I love that song.

[Insert 5 minutes of Mark fkn around with his phone and me trying to read the news on the internet]

Mark: Hey Babe......who sings that song I think Michael Jackson sang first?

Me: Mark! Are you kidding me?

Mark: C'mon................. you know it. I know you know it...... Mariah Carey sang it. I think.

Me: Oh ffs...it was a Jackson Five song, not Michael's and it was "I'll Be There".

Mark: Yeah! That's it. I love that song. It had that guy....he was amazing.

Me: Trey Lorenz.

Mark: Yeah! That's the guy.

[Insert Mark downloading the song and then playing it for me.]

Mark: Hey Babe..... what other songs do I like? I can't think of them when I want to.......

Me [not looking at Mark and trying reallllly hard to ignore his ass]: Hey, I bet your super smart phone has some sort of neat word pad feature that would allow you TO WRITE DOWN YOUR SONGS WHEN YOU THINK OF THEM!

Mark: Do you think so?
[Insert him downloading and playing FOR ME, Purple Rain.]

Me: Really? Prince?

Mark: You love him.

Me: So. Don't love him.

Mark: He's a really talented artist.

Me: And he dresses like a wee sized Liberace.

Mark: Oh my God! I love this song!
[Insert him playing FOR ME, Cats in the Cradle by Harry Chapin]

Me: Anything but Prince.......

[Insert more of Mark fkn around on his phone, sampling music & playing it FOR ME: 3 ballads by Vince Gill; Beautiful by Christina Aguilera; In the Arms of an Angel by Sarah McLachlan and She's Always a Woman by Billy Joel.]

Me: You might be gay.........

Mark: What? I'm not gay..... what are you talking about "gay"?

Me: Look at your phone and read me the last three songs you downloaded......

[Insert Mark reading his phone]

Mark: No.

Me: READ THEM......NOW!

Mark: Just Between You and Me, Piano Man and.......[insert Mark mumbling the last song.....]

Me [totally beginning to snicker....] I'm sorry, what was that last one?

More mumbling from Mark.......

Me: OWN IT. What's the last song you just downloaded?

Mark [shouting]: TINY DANCER! Ok....... Elton John's Tiny Dancer. You happy now?

Me [totally laughing out loud]: Hell yeah, I'm happy...... I just realized I'm married to my Gay Boyfriend!

Mark: You're not so funny......

Me: Really? What are you downloading right now?

Mark: Roberta Flack.......Killing Me Softly.

Yeah. I know the feeling.....................

***UP-date***

So the good news is:
The attorney excepted my apology.

And hugged me.
Which is a major violation of my Personal Space Bubble.

To which Tk will say: Pfffffffffffffffffft! You love to hug it out!
Yes, I do. On my terms. I say who...... I say when.

The bad news is:
As she was excepting my apology and hugging me, she said:
I know it had nothing to do with me.

Sooooooooooo many phrases could be used here:
Wait, what?!
Oh. No....you didn't.
Reeeee Heeeee Ealllllllly?
Ooooooooooooh, but I beg to differ.

Insert The Snarky Brunette biting her tongue. And saying nothing but I appreciate your graciousness.

That's right. I am a bitch. No doubt. But I am also A Professional!

Who needs to find herself some Wonder Woman cuffs, and pronto!

Hel-LOW.

So, I've hit an all time low.......

And I ain't talkin' about apple bottomed jeans!

Today I lost it in court. If I wasn't so mortified by my (clearly) unprofessional behavior, I'd be congratulating myself on the sheer balls of it all!

I think I've told you I split my time between two judges, right? The first half of the week I am with the Judge that makes me wanna Bang Head Here. This is the job that I've had for just over a year (1 year anniversary came & went without any fanfare...... yeah me!) and would be the common denominator in my 20lb weight gain. And my ever increasingly hostile personality.

Winning!

The second half of the week I spend with the Judge I've been with for 12 years. We finish one another's sentences; we snicker behind closed doors; we gossip.....and sometimes we laugh so hard we have to sit down to recover! It's like an all girl sleep over on most days in our office. If Tk comes bustin' into the office and tries to give me the 411 about something on the down low, this Judge will YELL from his office: Hey! You know I can't hear you when you two whisper..... SPEAK UP!

Guess where I was today?

So....I can't really say what the issue is....confidentiality and all....but suffice to say: The Snarky Brunette snapped. After listening to a particular attorney be completely condescending & frankly, bitchy to a client; this attorney made the mistake of making a smart ass remark under her breath.

Cue me completely losing my mind. So much so that I'm pretty sure at some point near the end- I lost time. I clearly remember myself standing up and YELLING:

ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS? YOU ARE DRIVING ME NUTS TODAY!

Oops!


I then launched into a short tirade about our program being designed to help Clients; and I think I said something about jumping through hoops and I may gotten all sorts of Janet Jackson on her ass, head bobbin' about what have you done for this Client lately?

Shame.

I'm really not sure what was said next; this may be when I lost time....but insert my Judge saying to no one in particular: She does make a valid point; he deserves the credit for completing what he's done so far.

The next thing I know, people are leaving the courtroom and my Judge says calmly: It's been a really hard day for us....I think the both of us should leave after this last sentencing.

He totally gets points for trying.

FINALLY.


I excused myself immediately, walked directly to the back hall and proceeded to sob for 5 minutes straight.

Duh.... (more), Winning!

And then I sent an email apology to the attorney I'd yelled at.

And that's the worst of it: Me offering the apology. Was my behavior unprofessional? Absolutely. But did the attorney deserve to hear what I had to say? FK YEAH! And will it make a difference in the long run? Oh, helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll NO! So was it worth it? It never is. And I should totally know better!

S*I*G*H..........................

I gotta figure out how to do the work and not get worked up. And since I currently do not possess anything remotely akin to Wonder Woman's totally awesome, bullet proof , wrist cuffs [because seriously, how fkn sweet would it be to, in response to something completely asinine being said by an attorney, I just raise my cuffed wrist and the bullshit would just PING! right off me?! PRETTY FKN AWESOME is the answer......!]- I gotta come up with a new plan to deflect.

Clearly, Tk's mantra of "You are a Professional" is not working.

Also, nightly "Cocktail Decompression Hour" works in theory...... but in the long run, I'm just one step closer to actually being committed to a fat farm /detox clinic.

Truthfully, I've got nothing. I always try to come full circle when I post....... find a meaning; find an end. But I'm not sure I can do it on this one. Perhaps I just leave it at: When you hit your all time low, you've got nothing left but to pick yourself back UP.

(And go to work another day and take it up the ass again.)

(So. Totally. Winning!)

Be Aware.....be very aware!

The following post is brought to you in part by Lo Lo.

And our unwavering belief in the notion that if we could figure out a way to market ourselves, we'd be America's next reality tv sensations!

[The scene:I am sitting in the courtroom today, overwhelmed by work and by the shame of just inhaling a 32oz soda like it was an 8oz glass of water. I'd just come from Lo Lo's office, which is directly outside the courtroom I'm working from. She had just shared with me that Weight Watcher's had not gone well and instead of staying for the meeting, she'd retreated to her office where she hoovered her diet soda, her appropriately portioned lunch and followed it all up with several mini sized candies and some crackers she found in her desk drawer! As I opened my wee size package of M&M's, I clicked open our chat network (we have our own in-house IM program) and fired off the following to Leah:]

Just so you don't feel left out, I am currently picking off my M&M's that I swiped from Tk's candy dish in record time and I've just inhaled 32 ounces of diet soda. I'm considering walking my fat ass back to the diner and buying another.......Shame!

Leah: Did you know this week is National School Breakfast week AND National Sleep Awareness week? Tomorrow I think I'll go and have breakfast with my daughter at school and then go home and take a nap.

Sister, please...... PLEASE...when you send in your Leave Request, put those reasons in the comment line and then blind copy me!

Leah: OH!!! and April is Alcohol Awareness month!!! oh dude.......have you seen the previews (speaking of drinking) for the dude who goes around to bars getting trashed on speciality drinks? We could have done that- people would watch our drunk asses- cuz we funny!

Side note: I totally refrain from pointing out the obvious, which it appears Lo Lo has forgotten, which is: We've done this. And people watched. And I have a vague recollection of them laughing..... at us!

As I'm pondering this, another chat from Leah comes in:
So in April we should have a different drink everyday so we are aware of all the choices!

I love it! We should begin compiling our list now. You realize, of course, that we are completely misinterpreting the purpose of this "awareness", right? I feel confident that the founders of this public service awareness did not intend for us to become aware of alcohol in the manner we both know we are going to pursue!

Leah: Also, May is National Mental Health Awareness month AND Physical Fitness month.....

Wanna bet we become so aware of alcohol in April, we gonna need to check in with Mental Health Services? And perhaps join a gym as well?!

Leah: hey..... April is also National Donate a Life month...........what exactly should I do with this one?

First I think we should get a clarification: is it our life we gotta donate or can we donate the lives of others? Cuz I got a list.........

Leah: OMG! I found it....I found the show for us!!

Better than my idea of combining the Biggest Loser with Rehab? What's better than you & I going off to a combination fat farm and detox center? America would eat our shenanigans & shameful debauchery UP!

Leah: Ooooooooooooh! That was a good idea....but you know we'd get kicked off first.

And together. We'd show up hung over, all sorts of tripping off the bus and they'd be all: Hey! You two...... don't bother unpacking! DOH!

Leah: This show is called "Three Sheets with Zane Lamphry"....

As in "three sheets to the wind"? I'm in!

Leah: He "travels the world to engage in foreign drinking customs and befriend the people who partake them". He gets PAID to travel and drink! We could totally do that......we are so good at drinking! I bet people would watch us.....we are pretty funny......

We are fkn hilarious, Leah........
............And I'm pretty sure the general public laughing at us, proves it!

No Diving Allowed

Oh. My. Gaaaaaaaaaawd! Really?

TWO nights of American Idol....?

Misery. Put me out of it!
***********************************

In unrelated news, have you seen the video of the woman who is walking and texting.......

and falling ass over tea kettle straight into the mall fountain?

Now THAT'S entertainment!
(Lynda knows...... there is nothing better than a good trip & fall!)

I've watched it three times and it still cracks me up each time! I've yet to hear where this occurred but it really doesn't matter. What matters is this idiot has lawyered up and she's now considering suing because mall security posted the video (of her takin' a header into a fountain......snicker, snicker! Ha ha ha, hee hee hee!). Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, people in the mall who witnessed it laughed at her.

Boo fkn hoo, Lady! You better be counting your lucky stars Lynda & I weren't there to witness it. Because not only would we have pissed ourselves over watching you swan dive into 3 ft of water; we most likely woulda Ro Sham Bo'ed to see who was gonna go over and ask you to do it again so we could capture it on our cell phone! Yard yourself out the fountain; wring out yer big girl panties & STFU. And if you're gonna hire a lawyer, find one who works with licensing. See about trademarking or copy writing your video and then have the last laugh.

Texting & walking is for stupid people. You learned the hard way.
(And Lynda & I thank you for it!)

Random Snark

Can you believe it's been almost a month since my last post.....?


Huh.

What the hell have I been doing with my time?!

Tick tock.......tick tock.......tick tock........... I have no answer.

I can tell you my head is filled with snark and according to both Kristin and Lynda, I should really share it all with you. Especially my thoughts on the Golden Globes.......which I've shared with them. And they loved. AND TOTALLY AGREED WITH!

So here we go.......Random Snark. From The Brunette.

THE NEW SEASON OF AMERICAN IDOL IS HERE!

Insert me throwing up in my mouth. You remember how much I hate this show, right? I'm pretty sure I dedicated back to back blogs about it. And I'm also pretty sure I've proved myself right in that this show is so tired and repetitive, there are no idols born from American Idol........ Exit, stage right: Lee DeWyze.

So the bad news is: AI is beginning a new season and my family will want to talk to me about it.
The good news is: I'm skilled at fakin' illnesses and taking to bed and you should all reap the benefits of that in the form of more posts.
(Unless I decide to just watch movies on Netflix.)
********************************************

Did anyone notice my Plus One is back? Happy New Year to me! Dana, I can tell you that last year ended and this year began on a much improved note (which is a double edged sword because I'm a much better writer when I have things to bitch about!); my back is doing better and yes. I have thought of writing a book.

Fine. Kristin has thought of me writing a book.
Keep checkin' in with me, Dana. I love knowing you're "out there".
***********************************************************

After 15 years, I finally ran into my ex-boyfriend. TODAY. He lives in the city I work in so how in the hell we managed to avoid one another is beyond me. Tommy was the first boy I ever truly loved. I gave him my young, naive heart and he continually broke it into a million pieces and jerked me around for the 4 years we dated; with numerous break ups in between. I saw him twice shortly after we broke up, and then he seemed to have vanished. Until today. When I literally walked right into him.

And he promptly ignored me.

Wait......what?

I looked at Tk like: WTF? And she's all, Seriously....WTF? Who is that? And I mouth: Tommy..... and Tk squeaks: DOH! Fast forward through 15 minutes of Tom ignoring me but fully watching me until I simply decide this is bullshit and I'm sayin: HELLO! Insert the Snarky Brunette stalking his ass to the soda fountain and literally planting myself in his path so he has to face me.

Insert him side stepping me to the right.

To which I follow immediately and block his path. Again.

Insert him side stepping me to the left.

To which I follow immediately, firmly plant myself directly in front of his face and with my hands on my hips say: Really? Are you really going to continue to pretend YOU DON'T KNOW ME?

Insert Tommy leaning over to scrutinize my face........and then saying in his booming voice: HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY! And scooping me up into a hug.

He swears he didn't recognize me; I told him he's still full of shit.
We talked for about 10 min, and when I say we, I mean him. He had me laughing hysterically within minutes, which was always his strong suit. And I marveled at how he looked exactly the same....... just older. And packing around a few extra pounds.

Like me!

When I returned to my office I immediately called my Mother to tell her I'd just run into Tom. Given that it's been 15+ years and she still asks about him, I assumed she'd be excited to hear the news.

Um....wrong. Jewish Mother who is always up in my biz-ness totally blew me off.

So I immediately texted Gina and she immediately responded: Holy shit! Weird? Good?
I told her it was good; he tried to not know me and I was having none of that; he looked the same & has been dating a girl "for about 7 years....she looks alot like you"......AWKWARD!
Gina: Ur the one that got away.....
Me: He showed me a picture....definite similarities. I'm prettier tho.
Gina: Of course.
Me:Glor totally blew me off when I clld her.....what the hell?
Gina:I know how you love feedback....ur welcome.
Me: Hello? It's all about me!
Gina:Yeah.....I'm aware of this.
****************************

I was approached by a case worker from the Department of Human Services today. She had appeared in court with me yesterday on a case where she was specifically asked to attend so that she could give her position on whether a Defendant should have contact with his family or not.

DHS: Wasn't that a slow process yesterday?
Me: Was it? I don't even notice anymore......
DHS: I'm not sure why I was asked to appear....?
Me: The Judge wanted to know if you thought contact was appropriate or not.
DHS: It is. I mean, I told him from our perspective, it is. He should see his kids.
Me: Right. I totally understood you.
DHS: But the Judge did the exact opposite.
Me: Yeah......welcome to my world.
DHS: Jesus...... how do you deal with that?
Me: I drink. Alot.
**********************************

The Golden Globes were last Sunday! Did ya'll watch? It's my favorite awards show of the season. And it's the only awards show where I will tolerate hair worn down and long; and short cocktail dresses. It's the informal awards show..........like a massive cocktail party.......with trophies!

WTF is wrong with the following people & why have they not FIRED their stylists?!


Natalie Portman: Hair-check! Make up-check! Gown-absolutely gorgeous......save for the stupid, sparkle-y RED ROSE in the middle of her teets! It looked like Mom's iron on transfer, circa 1979. So WRONG.


Christina Aguilera: someone forgot to tell her that her movie Burlesque is over and she need not dress like a drag queen any longer! SHAME. And while this Pot should not be hurling disparaging words at any other Kettle......., Miss Christina~ note to self, Honey. Pale pink gowns with black lace overlays do nothing to hide the 50lbs you've gained recently. Two words: basic black. S'all I'm sayin...........

Helena Bonham Carter: She wins the award for TRAIN WRECK! She wore the same shoe......in TWO different colors; looked like she herself fell down Alice's rabbit hole and the entire package of Hair/Make-up/Dress was HORRID.


Anne Hathaway: She is simple beauty at its finest. Gorgeous hair; stunning make up. She was picture perfect........so who the hell dressed her in Grandma's long sleeved, sequined gown? Anne looked ready to hit the Love Boat's evening buffet & get her picture taken with Captain Stubing. On the flip side: I loved that Angelina Jolie was wearing a Granny dress. I hated her long hair off to the side and every time I caught her glossing her lips when she thought she wasn't on camera, I'd snicker and say: Busted! My Inner Bitch is so pleased when I don't have to admit Angie is gorgeous.

The Award for You Cannot Dress a Red Head In That Color! goes to both Christina Hendricks & Julianne Moore. Ladies, you are old enough to know better. Reds cannot wear red. Or pink. Shame.

Honorable Mention would have gone to Scarlett Johansson were it not for her Bride of Frankenstein up do. Her gown was stunning; her face was flawless. Her hair: frightening! And I'm pretty sure I saw a nest of birds up there as well. Given that debacle, the title goes to Amy Adams. Loved her hair- and I'm an up do girl.....so this is really saying something. Her face was luminous. Her gown was amazing with her hair color.

But the following Ladies simply out did themselves, and that's why they are the Best Dressed.

3rd place: Sofia Vergara: VaVaVa Voom! Hips. Boobs. Bam!

2nd place: Eva Longoria. Stunning. And I don't even like her! Classic black. Sleek up do. She screamed Class. I absolutely loved her.

But not enough for her to take the top spot.......and to a blonde. Again! I give you: Julia Stiles.


Don't you just love her? Isn't she positively bewitching? Her porcelain face framed perfectly by her 40's inspired, pin curled hair. Her dress revealing enough skin but not so much that it ruins the imagination. She's old school. She's smokey and rich and creamy and yummy.


And I'm pretty sure she's wearing a smirk.

Kindred Spirits

I had cocktails with My Girls tonight. A pre-holiday mixer, if you will. I'd missed the last two and Tk was determined she was going to have a martini with myself & Lo Lo, and she wasn't takin' No for an answer!
(She's so bossy sometimes.....!)

Lo had the day off so she was at the bar early to get us "our table" in the back. Tk arrived about a minute before me, and I found her staring at a gift bag shakin' her head. There was only seat left at the table for three (see why it's our table?) and that seat had a gift bag on it as well.

What the hell is this shit?, I say as I eighty-six the bag to the floor with my purse, and haul my fat ass up and into the bar stool type seat.

That's what I'm sayin'!, quips Tk, still shakin her head.

I got you guys a little something....that's all. It's Christmas!, squeaks Lo with a big smile on her face.

Well, I didn't know "we" were doing this...... says Trace, clearly disgusted that she didn't think of it first cuz she's the Social Coordinator and this be her domain!

I didn't know "we" were doing this either.........I say all dejected....... So it's a good thing I came prepared!, I yell as I whip out two lip gloss tubes from my purse.

Tk is now really displeased and shoots me her: I'M SO NOT PLEASED WITH YOU! look.

I turn over the lip gloss so I can read their labels and say........ "Pink Lady" for my pink lady, Sister!, and hand Leah her gloss. She squeals and instantly applies the gloss to her lips. Is it sparkle-y?, she asks. FROSTY and sparkle-y, Babe!, I say. And she smiles so wide her eyes crinkle.

I turn to Trace, hand over her gloss and say, "Life Preserver"......for my life preserver. Really?, she asks. Really, Trace. I chose the gloss for the names. It's a fkn bonus that the colors happen to match the both of you! Tk shines her lips with her new gloss; turns to Leah so they both can admire one anothers mouths and then she turns back to me and says in her "you are still in trouble tone": You and me....we're picking up the tab.

Yeah..... your look established that a few paces back!

90 minutes with My Girls....bitchin' about work; hypothesizing over the latest gossip (so juicy!); lamenting Christmas gifts (when is enough?), and just enjoying each other's company.

Classic Moments. I can always count on these two having at least one during any period of time we are together.

Leah's came at the beginning of cocktail hour, after Tk & I had ordered our martinis. The waiter apparently thought he was excused and tried to walk away when Lo Lo piped up and said she'd like to order a few appetizers. We all agree that's a good idea and Lo says she'd like the Spinach Artichoke Dip. Tk & I concur that's a great choice and Trace looks to me for another option, and I wave her off because we tend to gravitate towards the same thing so she says, And an order of the Pom Freets.

I'm guessing I gave her a quizzical look, cuz in my head I was thinking "Pomme Frites"......"pretty sure the tes is silent.... more like free" to which Trace says aloud, Pom Free?; to which the waiter says, "Pom Free? Yes...." ; to which Lo Lo snaps: THE FRENCH FRIES! We'll take the french fries!

To which the waiter says: Exactly......, and scoots along. We all bust out laughing as Leah snarks, For fks sake...... I go hungry while you two try to figure out how to pronounce it!

Tk wrapped our evening with her moment. She & I are splitting the tab and I ask her how much she's tipping cuz I ain't gonna be the cheap one at the table, and she tosses out her number which was the number I was thinking was fair, so I nod I agree and go back to signing my credit card slip. I can't recall how the topic of our waiter came up; perhaps I said I thought he was a good server....but whatever was said prompted Tk to gripe in a voice that was dripping with both sarcasm and entitlement: Yeah...about that. We come here for the upscale atmosphere and high priced cocktails which can all be justified when we are SERVED by a 23 year old hottie! Which, I might add, was sorely lacking at this table. Present company excluded, I feel totally gyped by our experience and I'm pretty sure I'm speaking to a manager about it. I want to be SERVED by a boy I can imagine tying me to a chair and making me do and say bad, bad things......not by a someone who looks likely to be studying podiatry!

Insert all of us erupting into a fit of laughter, Tk so hard she's got a few tears in her eyes.....because as she & I prove to the world on a daily basis: we are our best audience!

And here's where I make my point:
It's such a small gesture, making time for your friends; but the rewards are monumental. I always walk away from time with my girlfriends feeling invigorated. Like being near their energy somehow re- inflates my spirit. I feel like this after a stolen Sunday with Lyndie; or an hour with Kristin during our IM dates. Our personalities are unique and yet there are enough similarities that we just gel. This inner circle of mine.....these girls whom I let in; who know the real me.....and still love me. They are a gift.

Merry Christmas to ME!

(Orange and) Black & Blue

Today was PAINFUL.

And I'm not just talking about my back!

My family left me at 7:30 a.m. to head to Beaver Nation, leaving me standing in the big window of my living room, crying as I waved goodbye. I was born and raised in Beaver Nation. I bleed orange and black. And to miss this game with my family was hard.

Oh who am I kidding? I hate going to football games! I spent my entire high school career warming up under the bleachers during the first half of games;performing at half time on the field and cheering for our team the second half. I've spent enough time at Parker Stadium (No. I will not call it Reeser Stadium. I have been known to call it "Potato Salad Bowl"; but I refuse to call it Reeser!); this chubby girl doesn't need to watch a live game. I much prefer to head to Beaver Nation with the fam; enjoy breakfast at my Mom's house and then drop off Mark & the kids at the field.

Where do I go?

I GO TO TK'S!

She hosts an annual Civil War Party that kicks ass! Tv's in every room, including the garage (because everyone needs to be able to watch the game while getting beer from the keg!); a table that is covered in food of every size, shape and color; and jello shots.

J-E-L-L-O SHOTS!

But I had to miss it all courtesy of my sacrum situation.

So there I was, in the throws of a really big pity party; wearing my I HATE YOUR DUCKS tee shirt; clapping and yelling at the tv all by myself today. I jarred my back yelling SUCK IT! and doing a fist pump after Quizz scored the first touchdown; I'd lost my voice by half time; and by the third quarter, after I screamed at Katz (OSU's quarterback): YOU ARE FIRED!, I texted Kristin and said: That's it. I'm done. Fkn Ducks and their stupid, fkn fairy feathers!!!!! KB's response: It's painful.

No shit. And I'd had enough.

(And, No. I will not say "OS". The OSU beavers play at Parker Stadium!)

So I came upstairs and decided I was going to tackle the Christmas tree......that has fallen over twice! It might be a perfect tree, but it refuses to stay perfectly erect! Marky put the lights on last night for me....a job I usually do myself......you know, on account of me being a control freak! But I couldn't reach above my head, so he did it. I thought for a fleeting moment about fixing all the spots that are driving me completely bat shit crazy!, but ultimately thought better of it. I have to learn to let people help me. Baby steps.

Baby steps straight to the liquor cabinet where I poured myself a stiff cocktail and downed it immediately! Now that I'm circling the tree and drinking my second cocktail, the fact that the lights aren't perfect is bothering me less. I can do this.

Music. That's what the Snarky Brunette needs! Get me in the mood. I chose a Christmas mix my sister gave me last year. I got through 1/4 of Sheryl Crow's rendition of There is a Star that Shines Tonight and said to Benelli: Hello? You failed to remind me I can't stand Sheryl! Benelli lifted her head from her doggie bed, rolled away from me and farted.

Exactly.

Flipping through my box of Christmas cds, I found it. The perfect cd for my perfect tree: Andrea~ Boccelli's My Christmas. Classic Christmas songs sung by an angel himself!

I've gone through the cd once and just re-started it. I did have to skip his duet with Reba McIntyre as the sound of her voice makes me throw up in my mouth. And while it is a tough call, I've decided that "Santa Claus is coming to Town" is my favorite song on the cd. It's bouncy and he's accompanied by a children's choir and this song alone brings a big, fat smile to my face!

My back still hurts; my Beav's still lost & I'm still wearing my I HATE YOUR DUCKS shirt; but my mood has improved remarkably! So much so that I'm off to pour my third cocktail, slather my lips in Zumba Kiss and pummel this Christmas business like the Beavs should have pummeled the Ducks.

And their fkn fairy feathers!

Squeeze Play

Guess who went to her dentist appointment this morning and threw out her back?

That'd be me.

Naturally, I take absolutely no responsibility for this debacle! I blame the hygienist; who had me tipped so far backwards in that goddamn chair, I was practically standing my head! I felt fine the entire time, until she began to raise the chair back. I got about half way up and felt the pressure building in my sacrum. This would be when I turned to Rebecca, my waif of a hygienist, and said: You're going to need at least three more of you to haul me out of this chair, Sister.

Perhaps I should have mentioned my recent back injury in July when Rebecca asked me if I'd recently suffered any physical ailments and/or injuries?

Yes? I should have?

Oh.

My bad.

I made it to work but the 20 minute ride in the car; followed by hauling my fat ass up three flights of stairs apparently did nothing to alleviate my sacrum situation. By the time I got to my desk and signed onto my computer, I was in tears from the pain. It literally takes your breath away.......and because I can't hold myself upright, I find myself holding my breath.......an apparent attempt to "puff myself up"-right.

I made it to noon and then called it quits. My 30 minute commute home was torture, what with the not breathing and all. At one point, a semi truck threw a HUGE rock into my windshield. The sound was unbelievably loud and not expecting it, I jumped in my seat....which jarred my back. Which made me start to cry......which left me yelling Goddamnit! aloud. Once home, I shuffled myself into the house much like Tim Conway's character "The Old Man" from the Carol Burnett Show.
(Seriously, one of the greatest television shows of all time.....Coo coo, pigeon!)

Thursdays are Mark's short days. He walked through the front door about 45 minutes after I shuffled in and found me on the couch. Sitting ramrod straight and icing my back.
(And swilling vodka whilst downing Advil.)

Mark: How's My Girl?
Me: Broken.
Mark: Whatcha doin?
Me: Becoming the poster child for alcohol and drug dependency.
Mark: I'll join you!
Me: Before you do, I called Soapy Paws and if you take Benelli right now, she can have her usual wash & blow dry......... (insert me clasping my hands in front of my face whilst giving Mark the doe-eyed look)

Without batting an eyelash, Mark says "C'mon Bitch", to which Benelli JUMPS up from the floor and heads for the door.

Upon his return and after Mark settles in next to me, I broach the subject of Perhaps you'd like to go pick out a Christmas tree before you pick up the kids since I just happened to have found what looks like a really nice, local tree farm not 5 miles from us.....?

After some minor discussion as to the pros and cons of this idea; directions to the tree farm; and me taking an oath that I would not be pissed if he picks out a tree I end up hating; Mark sets off to find the perfect Xmas tree.

And comes back 10 minutes later without said tree but with our kids. Whom he decided should help in the tree picking process (thus spreading out the blame should they all fail in picking out a Christmas tree!). Insert kids changing clothes and shoes and promises of finding the best tree ever!

I retire to the bedroom with my cocktail where it takes me 10 minutes to get on the bed and into a comfortable position. I have no idea where the remote is and there is no fkn way I'm going to move in order to find it, so I proceed to stare at the wall.

And feel sorry for myself.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I remember the room was dark and I can hear my kids stomping up the stairs screaming: WE FOUND IT! WE FOUND THE PERFECT TREE!!!!
I'm told to "wait until Daddy gets it in the stand, and then come down to see." Considering it took me 10 minutes to get IN the bed, I'm confident it will take twice as long to get OUT of it, so against my children's orders I begin my struggle to stand upright.

When I get the signal from my Monsters, I make my way down the stairs where I come face to face with the prettiest Noble tree, ever. It's exactly how I like them: not symmetrical, but thinner at the top and gradually becoming thicker at the bottom. Sturdy branches to hold my heavy ornaments, with clearly tiered spacing throughout the tree. It was, indeed, perfect.

Somewhere in the middle of me admiring the tree and the kids carrying in my many, many boxes of Christmas decorations, their Dad slipped out to run another errand for me. Only this time, his errand wasn't my idea. Or suggestion.

Marky came home with a Frank Sinatra Christmas cd & a half gallon of Rum. Said he was pretty sure His Girl could use a little of both.

So here I am......on my second round of Advil; sitting ramrod straight while icing my back; with Frank singing to me whilst I swill Hot Butter Rum and stare at my perfect tree.

And here's what I know:

The fact that I am one big control freak-pain in the ass most of time is not lost on me. Thankfully, I've got a husband who can appreciate my need to organize, delegate and plan......even when I'm on the injured reserve list.

The fact that I've managed to injure myself while sitting......(twice now!), just adds insult to my injury. But look at how productive the day turned out to be!

My Sister gave me major props for relinquishing my need to control everything and handing over the Christmas tree task. It's amazing the rewards one can reap when you aren't squeezing the life out of......well.......Life.

Peppermint This.

What's one of my most favorite-est things, ever?

Peppermint.

I love the smell. And the taste.

I love peppermint shampoo.
(It makes your scalp all tingly.......refreshing!)

I love peppermint tea.
(Tea. I know, right?!)

I love peppermint ice cream.
(I must be monitored when eating it because I will eat the whole carton.)
(Seriously.)
(I'm so not kidding.....)

I love peppermint. But other than those swirly, hard candies- peppermint isn't easy to find.

What's one of the things I H-A-T-E the most?

Christmas decorations visually displayed anywhere prior to November 26th.

HATE it.

I was walking through J.C. Penney's the last week of October and they had already hung their Christmas swags & garlands from the rafters.

WTF?

If you will, please picture The Snarky Brunette, dressed to the nines as she's just come from work; clomp! clomp! clomping! through the store; on a mission to find orange tights for her daughter's Halloween costume, when she rounds the corner and comes face to face with (stupid) Sales People hanging CHRISTMAS RIFF RAFF!

It literally stopped me in my clomping tracks! Dumbfounded, I stood in the middle of the designated walk way, mouth agape, staring at the CHRISTMAS RIFF RAFF! I didn't snap out of it until the Sales People sang out to me: Can you believe it? It's that time again!

What I wanted to say (read: SCREAM!) was: If by "time again" you mean HALLOWEEN, then you folks are clearly needing some help with your seasonal decorations!

What I did was simply walk away.

While muttering to myself: Who I got to kill to make Christmas go away?!

Now, I'm seeing Christmas everywhere! Decorated trees are in window displays. Target had an end cap of ORNAMENTS in their card section. My co-worker was playing Christmas music in the office YESTERDAY.

(I may or may not have snapped and demanded that she TURN THAT SHIT OFF!)

Tonight, as the Monsters and I were hustling through Fred Meyer (Hannie, you grab the pizza....Mommy needs some Diet Tonic and a lime!), I walked past an end cap and abruptly stopped. And then backed up.....because The Snarky Brunette spied PEPPERMINT LIP BALM!

On the top shelf, next to the PEPPERMINT soy candle and PEPPERMINT Goat's Milk soap; there it was: as big as a glue stick! The red & white swirled packaging caught my keen eye; the yummified scent, so potent I could smell it before I actually picked up the balm.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!

I may or may not have completely lost my mind in all things peppermint. I may or may not have impulsively purchased $12 worth of peppermint goodies, including the over-sized lip balm (which I'm wearing right now! Totally makes my lips all glossy!): Zumba Kiss.

And in my peppermint induced high, I may or may not be willing to concede that Christmas ain't all that bad. I mean really, it is the only holiday that guarantees I will have peppermint whatever at my disposal and for my every whim. That makes me happy. So I've decided me and my Zumba Kiss are going to meet Christmas head on..... and in the end, all the lame ass decorations & elevator inspired Muzak we are going to be subjected to over the next 2 1/2 months can SUCK IT!

That's not to say I won't bitch and piss and moan about being subjected to it, though.............that's what I do.

And you guys should totally know that by now!

Trick or Prophylactic?

So me & my stiff Salty Dog logged on tonight, feeling like we wanted to write........

But we just sat here and stared at the blank page for what seemed like forever........

The blinking cursor totally mocking us & our un-inspired state.

Shit.

With my creative sap not flowing, I clicked over to my homepage to see if perhaps some world and local news might do the trick.

B-I-N-G-O!

Seems a couple in Silverton, OREGON handed out condoms to kids on Halloween.

And the parent of one teenager was both "offended" and found it "inappropriate to give them without the parents' consent."

Hmmmmmm.....where to begin?

A good place to start would be for me to stop laughing my ass off!
(Said ass is really quite large these days, so this could take awhile.......)

Really? "Offended"? If the parents answered their door in black face; that's something to be offended about. If the parents handed out religious materials, whether it was anti or pro; that's something to be offended about. But a condom? To a 14 year old? Get over yourself, Parent. You live in a town that continues to elect a transvestite as its Mayor.

(Something which, for the record, I totally applaud. Said cross dressing Mayor, however, needs a complete fashion make-over. I'm just sayin'......)

The argument regarding how appropriate it was to pass out condoms....... I will concede: Parent, you've got me there. But not because I find it inappropriate. It's because these parents are simply setting themselves up for ridicule, lots 'o judgments to be passed aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, in this day and age of "sue-happy" individuals- the potential for a lawsuit.

And if they lived in Linn County, I am sure, the potential for criminal charges!

These parents simply suffer from poor judgment. There intent was good, in theory. Promote safe sex and the health and well being of young people, and at the same time educate. Their platform, however, was completely misguided.......you know...... since the majority of the teenagers landing on their doorstep are clearly misguided as well SINCE EVERYONE KNOWS THAT YOU STOP TRICK OR TREATING WHEN YOU'RE TWELVE!

And that's not the kids fault- that's poor parenting.

And here's how we come full circle: you've got a 14 year old trick or treating, who gets a condom as a "treat" and HER parent is offended.

Seriously? I'm more offended at the parent who allows their 14 year old to Trick or Treat than I am offended at the Condom Giving, Halloween Celebrating, Thinking I'm Gonna Educate parent!

FFS. Offended Parent needs to count his blessings that his kid escaped Condom Giving's "normal practice." See........ Condom Giving parent freely admits giving the 14 year old a condom "was a mistake". Her "usual practice is to ask teens if they're 16 years or older and to give them a speech on safe sex."

Hmmmmmmm........ lemme see? Free condom that any parent can confiscate and ultimately use for themselves OR having to explain to your kid what was sure to be a completely condescending and whacked out personal philosophy on safe sex from a stranger.......?

I hate stupid people.