If you give a mouse a cookie...

He's gonna want some milk.

I was in need of some work pants. I’ve been fighting it because in my fight against the flab, buying pants in a larger size would be defeat. And I am nothing if not a sore loser. ANYWAYS, I decided I needed to buy at least a pair of pants because, really, I mostly wear dresses to work (so much easier to pretend I hadn’t put on 10 lbs). And I found two pair. Two pair of pants ON SALE for $30. NIIICE. Okay. I’m heading toward the door…

Errr…are those bathing suits? I don’t NEED a bathing suit, I have one I’ve never worn from last year. Put that down. LOOK at those shirts though. That’s nice. Goes with the pants. (I’ll be honest. I have 100 bajillion tops. 3,000,000 sweaters, and 90,000 tank tops. I don’t know where to put it all) But, here I am. Because if I’m going to buy new pants, I should get a shirt to go with these pants and that one is SO CUTE. So, I grab that one.

I’m still heading toward the door. But then, I see a green top. Sort of peasant-y. Thin, short sleeved. So me. Also so cute. And I grab that too. Because remember? I bought TWO pair of pants. And speaking of green? Did I mention that green is my favorite color? I have these green HEELS, but I still can’t wear them, so basically, what I’m saying is: I don’t have any green shoes to go with my shirt. Luckily though, THEY’VE got green wedges that are perfect.

So. If I go to the store for pants, I’m going to need tops and now that I’ve got tops and pants..I need shoes to make it all work. Now I’ve got 2 very cute outfits, and shoes.

Anybody got any cookies?

I love my job

I don't know if you know this (I guess SOME OF YOU don't read my words of wisdom every whenever I write)....but I work at a Big Fancy Hospital. <--Name has been changed to protect the "not-so-innocent" aka ME. But, I'm sure you can guess. I live in Southern California, there really aren't but 2 hospitals to the stars. And I work at the other one. LOL.

Anyhoo. I love my job. Really, I do. I love it because they pay pretty well. There is, of course: 1. I'm too lazy to work hard for anything resembling minimum wage OR manual labor. 2. They pay well, so you don't WANT to go anywhere else 3. They NEED to pay well so you're not tempted violate patient confidentiality. (Although, face it. Some people will always go for the easy buck..And if they get caught, they get fired. For me, not worth it) and also..4. How else am I going to afford my ridiculously expensive shoes?

There's also that here at BFH they are pretty laid back. I'm sure not ALL departments are like mine, but who cares? We're talking about me here, people. After all, I have ditched work to go to a concert at 6AM...I've stayed up all night AND THEN came to work (and they were kind enough to ignore me when my eyes glazed over), they've even let me change my work schedule so that I can go to school part-time. Yep, BFH is pretty cool.

We even get hook ups...Need to see a Cardiologist? When you've been here as long as I have, you're bound to know somebody who knows somebody. (Actually, if you need one I know several. Super nice. You can tell them that I sent you). Got a Doctor's appointment? For employees they waive co-pays. And usually, I have a stack of free parking passes that I can give to friends/family if they ever have to come here.

And, of course... I get to brag. Oooh, I work at Big Fancy Hospital. There is that whole patient thing. But hey, that star I met in the elevator. Not my patient. So, my co-workers and I play I spy, since you never know when BIG BROTHER is watching. I spied with my eagle eye

He was walking across the bridge. He was hard to miss...and he was GORGEOUS! But the thing I love best about working at the BFH? Right now, I have a ginormous headache. I thought I had some tylenol or something here at my desk. But I don't. What am I going to do? I'm going to walk down the hall to the pharmacy department show them my badge and ask for some motrin. And they? Are going to give it to me.

Damn I love my job.

There oughta be rules

It's not that everyone around me is dropping like flies, but it DOES seem as though I've been to an abnormal amount of funerals in the last year or so. And I'm no Miss Manners, or anything. But really? I always thought that there was like some unspoken "rules" when it came to gatherings for funerals and junk.

I thought wrong. Yesterday, I went to a funeral with my Mom & Sister. And while we were waiting for the show to get on the road, so to speak, we were discussing the sorts of things we'd prefer when we died. I, for instance, requested cremation...because I am crazy claustrophobic IRL, and would prefer not to think of my lifeless body buried in a box underground.

We also got to talking about the kinds of things that happen at funerals, that shouldn't.

Talking on your cell phone. Yes, I'm sure you're a big deal in your world. But honestly? You couldn't just NOT answer your phone during the service? Did you really have to answer it to say, Hey girl...No, I can't talk right now. I'm AT A FUNERAL. I know there are exceptions, when The Man was in Iraq, Afghanistan, Wherever else he went that involved imminent death & danger, I kept my cell phone on ALL THE TIME. At church, in the bathroom, everywhere. But this was clearly, not that call. And? That's also the time that you should check your cell to make sure you won't be the next asshole everybody is giving the stink eye when your soulja boy ring tone goes off at the loudest volume ever during prayer ('cause you just know it's going to ring to optimize embarrassment/assholey-ness).

I know it's the general practice to wear black for funerals. But 1. This is a funeral, not a biker bar (not that there's anything wrong with biker bars) and 2. This shouldn't really be the look you're going for when some lady who lived her whole life in the most conservative of churches dies. Especially when everyone knows your mama raised you better than to show up looking like it's midnight at 10AM. I'm just saying. You probably could have worn any color you wanted as long as it covered up your snatch.

Gossip! We women like to know the story, morning glory. But if you're going to talk shit about the family (Ohhh, girl I heard he was cutting up yesterday at the viewing. He told off so-and-so, he didn't tell so-and-so about the funeral, they were fighting about money blah, blah, BLAH), do it where people who know the family well don't have to cuss you out in church for telling tales out of school.

I'm sure this list could be MILES long. But I kind of think I hit the big three, don't you? And you don't have to thank me. Consider it a public service for those who are unclear on proper behavior. I am here to help.

Oh, one last thing to the guy I met at the viewing: Hi. You didn't catch my name because I didn't throw it. Although there was some weird backlighting and an absurd amount of candles, I think perhaps you were confused. There were no drinks, or party people. In fact, there was an actual dead body front & center. And so, I think I should tell you that it was inappropriate to try to pick me up. You're a jerk. That is all.

Bullseye!

Word on the street is that Auds over at Barking Mad is having a give away. $250 Target gift card. Even though I firmly believe that Target is the devil. I'm totally in. Because? Even though I know Target is bad news, I still love it so much. (Where else can I get cute knee socks AND books plus maybe my favorite soap ever?) And if I

All she wants is to see your favorite posts. She says she wants a date to get to know us better and what better way that for us to read some of our favorites. So here you go. All about me, in a handful of posts...


Read in awe, as I show you my .....Marriage in Real Life and talk about My awesome kids.
Be prepared to back away slowly, as I discuss my Conspiracy Theories.
Did I ever tell you about the time where I decided to take over the world?
Or maybe to really know me, you should read about my weird phobias or perhaps you would enjoy a story about The generally ridiculous way I live my life?

So there. She asked for some of my favorite posts and there they are. A Short & sweet post. Kind of like me. Well. Short, like me. Sweet? Not so much.

Still. Not Ready

This is my babygirl, aka The Brat. Ok...Actually THAT is how I picture her. That’s not really how she is. SIGH. This is The Brat, circa 2008

(Halloween party. Yeah, she's a goth something or other...Yeah, she had to wear a shirt under that there outfit because HELLO? she's 12)

I don’t really miss the baby days. I do look back fondly of the new baby smell and the cuddles and the cute baby outfits. But I don’t really miss the changing wet diapers, OMG I don’t have a babysitter, what the hell did she just put in her mouth?! days. I miss THESE days:

5 years old (First Day of School, Boston)

7 years old (Downtown Boston, day on the town with Daddy)

8 years old (Renaissance Faire, Canton, Mass)...Wait. I don't miss this. We still do this every year, just different State.

Anyways, my point is..I miss THOSE days. Those days are the I still want my mommy sometimes days. It's sort of double-edged. You can't wait for them to get older and become more independent.... until they get older and become independent.

11 years old (random event, So. California)

Time is NOT on your side, ladies & gentlemen. These babies we have grow up and start kindergarten and middle school and hanging out with their friends at the mall and not needing you as much to hold their hands for the little things. And I’m NOT looking forward to holding her hands through the BIG things: 1st boyfriends, 1st dates, 1st heartbreaks, 1st TIME (*screaming on the inside* I can’t believe I just said that! But I have to keep it real. Even when I don’t want to)

What brought all this on? Why am I having a minor meltdown about The Brat/Teenager getting older?

This week, I received this

She’s going to High School. And I’m totally NOT ready. Why can’t she just stay like this forever?

9 years old (Knotts Berry Farm, CA)

SO not fair.

I want to talk about ME

So although I had quite the weekend. Tattooed Minivan Mom is doing a meme linky. And I'm joining in because 1. I’m lazy and 2. I’m lazy. Oh yah. And because memes can be kind of fun, ESPECIALLY if I get to make up your own!


Do you have any tattooes/piercings? Yes, five tattoos and a tongue piercing. My ears are pierced, but unfortunately, I am allergic to the posts, so I never wear..except for proper pictures. And usually for no longer than 10 minutes before my ears turn red.

What was your first car? Ford Mustang. Got totaled when an asshole ran a red light and almost killed me.

Favorite drink? Captain Morgan and sprite. Tastes kind of like cream soda. And red death . For when I’m living on the edge and absolutely, positively want to get completely fucked up. (Tastes kind of like kool-aid, don’t say I didn’t warn you)

Do you remember your first time having sex? Yes, I do. Surprisingly, I’m still having sex with that guy.

Favorite Movie? I’m sort of all over the place.. so, The Last Unicorn, Sparkle and Beaches umm..and the Princess Bride. (Okay. It’s more than one. Whatever)

Weirdest place you’ve ever had sex? Church parking lot. (Yes. I already know I’m going to hell) My defense? I was on base, and I hadn’t seen The Man in 6 months, we were sort of in a hurry. As a side note, every time somebody busted in on me having sex I was in a BED.

Favorite smell? Fresh cut green grass

NOT so favorite foods? Lettuce and nuts. (No nuts in my food…nuts in YOUR mouth! LOL. Sorry, I can never resist)

Favorite Swear Word? Fuck (also my favorite verb. heh.)

Words I say most often? Awesome, Dude and So there.

Favorite number? THREE. It’s the magic number. Yes it is

So there. Completely random meme, from a completely random Me.

I'm not a complete failure

I am a pretty laid back parent…Could be because my dad was a complete dictator about EVERYTHING. Cleaning, eating (I am the world’s pickiest eater. The eating issues would turn into World War III), homework, clothes. Everything. You name it, he wanted to tell me how to do it, that I COULDN’T do it, or complain about the way I did it. Me? Not so much. I don’t have rules as much as I have loose guidelines. I expect to see the floor of The Brat’s room, and for her clothes to be in her hamper. I also don’t do her laundry anymore, so if she runs out of panties…her bad.

The only rules that I am completely unbending on are: No drugs. I don’t do them, and since I pay the rent, that means nobody else can either. No sex. The only person who can have sex in my house is ME and The Man (and only with each other) and Nobody in the house when I’m not there. There are very few exceptions to this rule and every one of them are related to me. I don’t care if your BFF got locked out of her house. She can sit on the porch until I get home. The only time this rule can be bent is if I have already ok’d somebody coming over before I get home to pick you up and/or hang out. And if somebody pops up unexpectedly, unless I get a phone call asking “Is it ok?” It’s not. PERIOD. EVER. Because even though I don’t believe my friends are crazed psychopaths, child molesters, killers…I don’t want to find out I was wrong the hard way (better safe than sorry, I say).

I get home yesterday and my husband’s friend, Smiley, is on my porch. He’s standing there talking on his cell. What the hell?
Me: Hey Smiley, are you lost?
Smiles: Nope, I was walking The Brat through printing up my Costco receipt from out here. I didn’t know I was going to need it, and you guys are the closest. (I live less than 5 minutes away)
Me: Uhhhh…
Smiles: Well, she peeked out the blinds and told me that she couldn’t open the door. So I called her on the phone & asked her to print it up for me. She was going to slip it through the window.
Me: AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…..She’s not allowed to open the door to ANYBODY when I’m not here.
Smiles: I totally get it.
I let him in and he grabs the paper that she printed out for him and goes off to Costco.

It should be noted The Man & Smiley have been friends since 1st grade. I’ve known Smiley for AT LEAST 20 years because he had been my neighbor since I was 10 years old AND THEN I dated/married his closest friend. He’s known The Brat ALL 13 YEARS OF HER LIFE. And she told him, you know I love you…but I can’t let you in.

Wow. So I guess I did something right.


*Also—they both said they were trying to call me for permission to open the door, but my phone is sometimes stupid & so I never got a call (until of course..I was home then I got 500 bajillion missed calls)

Imaginary twitters

So I went on a superbowl cruise this weekend. Also known as the booze cruise to mexico. Even though I won’t usually blog on the weekends, I DO twitter. But not this weekend. Why? Excellent question! Because I was too busy trying to get my camera to work (it didn’t. my camera totally crapped out on me the FIRST day of the superbowl weekend), drinking and being bitchy about all the hoochie mamas on the boat.

Let me just say this: If I didn’t KNOW FOR SURE that it would have caused dirty looks or even quite possibly a fist fight. I would have taken a ridiculous amount of pictures of strangers wearing bedazzled Obama shirts, a man as old as my grandfather wearing a sheer shirt with a track suit, and a gilr wearing a t-shirt and her panties to breakfast (I threw up a little in my mouth and then promptly lost my appetite)

AND THEN I get into international waters. Where I get a text message from my carrier who THEN tried to CHARGE ME EXTRA for said text because we were in international waters and I was "roaming".

But if I HAD twittered it probably would have looked a lot like THIS:

Friday (starting at 3PM)
finally on the boat -WOOT! Damn it's hot. Yes, I WOULD like a drink...

WOW. That girl's boobs are hanging out. Is her friend going to tell her, or let her sit there with tits staring at me? (for the record: she just let her sit there)

Observation: If you ask somebody if you look fat in this, you probably do. And you're friends should tell you so.

Fuck it. I'm not going to the safety brief with my life preserver.

I shoulda went, the cabin deck people kicked open the door on me & the man doing it.

Back on deck. Still drinking. gsladkfjasoieht Wants more rum.


Saturday
Ensenada. FInally. Breakfast first. Then Papas & Beer

Ewww..T-shirt & panties for breakfast? REALLY? I know it's casual dining, but you would think PANTS would be in order.

Off the boat. 1st shot of Patron. Yes, I forced my auntie to take one too.

Papas & Beer. It's not even 10AM. And I want hot wings, street tacos & margaritas w/ Patron. Yes. Patron. I don't care if it's extra.

Has anybody seen my husband?

Found him! Drunk off his ass. Taking him back to the boat.

Hmm... good thing this trashcan is metal. I didn't know he drank THAT MUCH.

Really dude? You're not done yet?

....10PM. I'm going out. To drink sommore & gamble.

Sunday
It's acceptable to drink with my breakfast when I'm on vacation, right? Rum & Sprite.

Let's go Steelers!

Holy shit! The Cardinals just realized they were at the Superbowl...

Ladies: When you go to a superbowl game, nobody wants to see you... we want to see football.

(there is a girl wearing a hat that says My President is Black) Uh.....

It's good that I didn't bet on this game. I wanted to...now I can't tell who's going to pull it off (that's what she said)

Well. Steeler win. Awesome.

Is the boat rocking or am I that drunk. I uhh..think it's both

dalkdfaldkdieaeppoapoe.....still drinking. Going to the roulette table. C'mon 11.

Silver sequined boots? Matching outfit? Is she channeling her inner Elvis? WTF?!

That girl right there? A real tattoo of Barack Obama ON.HER.ARM.

Okay. It's 2AM. I just saw a girl wearing the world's smallest dress, she bent over and I think I went blind for 5 minutes. I'm going to bed. I've had enough.