weather

Last night it started raining right as jparks and I went to bed. The raindrops heavily hit the roof and trees outside our window creating a soothing noise I hadn't heard in awhile. In the distance you could hear thunder but it never got close enough to rattle the windows. I feel asleep listening to it and it led to dreams of being at Girl Scout camp where the sound of rain is the absolute best. There it falls through pine trees onto the canvas coverings of our tents and sounds hollow and heavy. It lands on the pine needle covered ground and creates a soothing white noise that makes everything feel comfortable.

California rain just isn't the same, it falls fast and cold, never with thunder. It's nice to be back home where rain takes its time, as it should.

end of an era

I gave jparks a Nikon D40 for Christmas because I am dumb. Before, when he had to use my D80, I could delete whatever pictures of me I wanted and the world would never get to see them. My only hope is that he won't want to drag his camera around as much as I do. Or that I suddenly become very photogenic. Wish me luck.

landed

Jparks, Lily, and I are all safe and sound in New Orleans! The flights were long, but Lily was a trooper, only whining a bit, and making tons of friends in the airports. Guys, if you ever want an easy way to pick up girls, might I suggest borrowing Lily.

We've only been here a few hours and jparks' niece has told him he's picky and he laughs like a girl. Ah, good times!

surprise, a list!

I'm feeling better. Yay for food! jparks has suggested I try not to eat anymore poop. I think that's a pretty good idea.

we have been very busy at Parks Place preparing for our departure to New Orleans on Thursday. I've been tackling the pile of laundry that never ends. Seriously, how do two people create so much dirty clothes?

I still haven't finished shopping for Christmas gifts. Mom, sorry, your gift is coming in 2008 because I fail as a daughter.

With the exception of one day, I've continued to wear a different pair of shoes every day, even though NoBloShoeMo is over.

the one pair that I've worn more than once are my sparkly Holiday Party Shoes. Because, hello, THEY ARE SPARKLY and were created specifically for holiday parties.

25 more shopping days until my birthday

I got one of my Christmas gifts from jparks. It's a lovely watch that I bought myself.

maybe shopping for my own gifts can be my gift to jparks. yeah, that's the ticket

if that's the case, then I better get back to the mall

the pink tree came in. It's naked in our living room because I think a pink tree doesn't need ornaments. Or because I forgot to buy ornament hooks. Same difference.

I'm sick

I have food poisoning. This means that when jparks comes home from work I'm going to have him take me out back and put me down, because I do not want to continue on for another second feeling like this. I'm a pretty seasoned puker, but this is unlike anything I have experienced before. My stomach feels like it's tied in knots and even water won't stay put. I think my body has rid itself of anything that was lingering in my intestinal tract from the past ten years. Crap came out that I don't remember ever eating. Delightful, isn't?

Since I haven't moved from my bed all day, except to go to the bathroom, I've been entertaining myself with a Top Chef marathon and google searching "food poisoning". Perhaps looking that up was not the best idea since I've now learned that a common type of food poisoning comes from contamination with feces. Poop! I might have eaten poop! Oh my god, kill me now. In all fairness it could have been caused by some bad meat but my coworker, who had lunch with me yesterday and is also sick today, had beef while I had pork. I'm thinking all signs point to poop!

And to make you all feel extra sorry for me here's a picture:


All together now, "awwww"

this was a much better post but the delete button got in my way

I've been busy. Busy Busy Busy. Which explains why the holiday cards that I bought three weeks ago are still in their box on my kitchen floor and not in your mailbox. My bad.

On Friday I went to see Tori Amos. Wow, was it a bad show.

On Saturday we went to the Google Holiday Party. You can't take pictures while you're there unless you have the people in the picture's permission. As I am lazy and didn't want to ask a bunch of people if I had their permission here is the only picture from the night:



In truth there is another picture from the party of crepe guts on a wall, but that's really a jparks story.

On Sunday I went to another Tori concert. I figured she deserved an opportunity to redeem herself. Or another chance to really piss me off. Final verdict, she was awesome. So good! Yay for Tori! I can still like her!

Monday was my work holiday party at Go Kart Racer. These aren't normal go karts, they're go karts that go super fast and make you (read as: me) want to puke. It was a delightful day. Also, can you tell that I work with all boys?

Then last night jparks and I went to the movies and we are going to another movie tonight. I guess those Holiday cards are destined to sit on my kitchen floor until next year.

I'm dreaming of a pink or black Christmas

I'm not really one of those "Christmas is the most amazing time of year" people, but I do love certain parts of the season: Gingerbread lattes from Peets, the Aimee Mann holiday show, and Christmas trees. While the lattes and Aimee Mann are easy for me to obtain and enjoy, the whole tree aspect of the season pretty much eludes me. Since jparks and I tend to fly back to NOLA for the holidays it's ridiculous for us to get a tree, we would either have to take it down before we left or arrive home to a dead tree that the cats have had their way with. Neither seem like a particularly good idea and that's why I've been investigating fake tree options.

I know a fake tree won't be as good as a real tree but it's better than no tree. And I was thinking that if I'm going to go fake, well then I might as well go really fake. Which is why I want, more than anything else right now, one of these: clicky click

Oh yes people, I want a brightly colored tree. Perhaps the Lemon-Lime Sublime (although it might be too close to a natural tree color). Or the Tuxedo Black, which could help take me back to my high school days of only wearing black and listening to the Cure. Truthfully the one I really want is the Pretty in Pink tree. Why? Because, apparently I am a 13 year old girl and IT'S PINK. Also, jparks' head would explode and that's just a good time no matter what time of year it is.

I seriously think this is the best solution to my "no tree" problem. I wonder if I could order one and when it arrives tell jparks that "no, it's not pink, you're just color blind. Really, it's just a light green." If he doesn't buy that excuse I could tell it my options were the Pretty in Pink or the $9299.00 Ginormous Tree. I'm sure even he would agree that the pink tree was the smart decision.

changing citizenship

For years and years and years now I have dyed my hair. I experimented with various shades of red until I found the perfect one (that is, of course, after I ungothed myself and stopped dying it black). That specific red stuck until I started to notice my hair thinning and I could only assume that after 14 years of constant torture it was going on strike. We went back and forth with negotiations and finally an acceptable offer was reached. I would stop dying my hair until I reached an age when I couldn't handle the grays anymore and then I could start dying it again.

It has taken a while for me to cut all of the red out of my hair but with my last stylist appointment we have finally reached it's natural color. Which is most certainly not red. Obviously I knew my hair color wasn't red but, after so many years of pretending, I had convinced myself that it had to be slightly red. A reddish brown. Yeah, that's the ticket. But now I'm having to face the cold hard truth, my hair is not reddish brown, it is brownish brown.

The fact that my hair is not really the color I was dying it has thrown me into a mini identity crisis. Before, with the red hair, everyone assumed I was Irish. Pale + green eyes + red hair= Irish. This was great when jparks and I went to Europe because, until I opened my mouth and the dumb America accent tumbled out, most people thought we were from Ireland and were nice to us. Hey, we aren't Americans who are going to be loud and obnoxious, we're Irish!

But now, well, I look not so Irish. In fact, on Friday night, I was told I look Russian. There's nothing wrong with looking Russian, I'm just not used that. I guess now I can walk around and say "In Soviet Russia kitteh captions you!"

The other crappy thing I've learned about my hair is that I have a fair amount of gray. Luckily it's scattered and my stylist was able to literally nip it in the bud, she cut it all out at the scalp. She said we won't be able to do this for long as eventually it'll lead to bald spots, but we're okay right now. Also, does anyone know why the gray grows faster than the rest of my hair?

I've been pretty mopey since learning I'm no where close to being a redhead. Jparks says he likes my natural color, but I think he's finally learned that a husband is never supposed to say he doesn't like something about the wife. Of course he loves my brown hair, he wants to have sex again in the future.

the day the internet stood still

Do you guys think that that today is the slowest blogging day of the year? Because you know most people that participated in NaBloPoMo are taking today off and then add in the fact that most folks don't blog on the weekends and I bet it adds up to almost no blog activity on the world wide webs. Which means it's mine, all mine. Today I own the internet.

First order of business: change the name to reganweb. No, maybe reganet. Or the World Wide Web of Regan.

Second order of business: I'm gonna need more lolcats. Particularly of the nom nom nom variety.

Man, it feels good to be powerful.

NoBloShoeMo

I wore 30 different pairs of shoes this month.

12 pairs were mary janes. I obviously have an obsession.

the last two pairs have yet to be posted, but I assure you I never repeated shoes and the last two are mary janes number 11 and 12

3 pairs were ballet flats. Not quite as obsessive as the mj's, but I'm working on that

I'm surprised by how boring most of this month's shoes have been. I think I was worried that if I wore all my favorite shoes at random I would get to the end of the month with only boring shoes left to wear. Instead I went the opposite direction.

I could go another 2 months, at least, without repeating shoes

that last bullet point made jparks cry

I found a bunch of shoe twins

Someone wore a pair of shoes that I am helplessly in love with but are not available in stores.

I only had to block one weird person that wanted to know how my feet smell. yeaah

no pink shoes were worn. Sorry Tracy and Whitney!

picking the impossible

I am feeling a bit under the weather today. Actually I'm feeling worse than under the weather, I'm feeling like I was plowed over by a steamroller that the weather was driving. I even called the doctor to make an appointment but, of course, no appointments were to be had. He phoned in a z pack for me but have yet to take the first pills. If I take the pills then I can't drink at the office party tomorrow night but if I don't take the pills then I might not feel well enough to go to the office party. It's like Sophie's Choice. How can I make this decision? It is IMPOSSIBLE.

And since I'm feeling pretty tired and not quite right, I'll leave you with a list:

This website kills me. Maybe it's because I imagine Tangi and Molly balanced on the edge of the toilet while jparks waits his turn

we booked Lily on our flight back to NOLA for the holidays. If you didn't care about seeing jparks or me before then maybe the promise of Lily will change your mind

do you know how hard it is to find someone to redesign your blog? I contacted a couple of designers and said "Halp! I have the moneys for the paying!" but none of them ever replied. Did I offend them by asking them to redesign my dinky little blog? Can't money buy you everything except love? Why can't it buy me a new blog? grumble.

and it needs to match my dress

On Friday night I'm going to Lauren's work's holiday party as her date. And do you know what dates get? Dates get corsages! I think if I keep pushing enough she'll give in. I mean how could you not want to see me wearing this on my wrist: clicky here. Seriously, isn't it the most amazing, festive, breath-taking thing you've ever seen? I would be the belle of the ball wearing it.

The party is a casino night/karaoke/Dance Party USA thing and I am so totally excited for it. I've never been to real office casino night party. And I've only been to karaoke things in the Quarter when everyone is so drunk that you have to watch the video the next day to see that you were really there. This party has the potential to fulfill all of my dreams of what a true work holiday party can be.

But only if I get the damn corsage.

There's gonna be a throw down

Chris Sanders (who sucks! LOSER!): "So are you two gonna get Guitar Hero for Wii? 'cause we are. And we're gonna kick y'alls ass."

me: "THEMS FIGHTING WORDS!"

Loser: "indeed"

me: "Dang it, jparks sucks at Guitar Hero. Can I sub in a player?"

Loser: "only if they're an existing member of the household with opposable thumbs."

me: "I'll have to get him playing more often. Because we aren't losers."

Loser: "yet"

Can I just tell you guys that never before have I not wanted jparks on my team, but right now I would throw him under the freaking train for Lauren. Hey Lauren, you wanna move in?

a case of the mondays

Is there really any need for me to explain why Mondays suck? Does anyone out there actually like Mondays? Can we all agree that Mondays following holiday weekends are the worst?

Bad Monday Thing 1. I got up extra early this morning to finish a work project that I should have completed over the weekend, but forgot about. Then my laptop was being a bitch so I had to actually sit at my desk and work. That's double punishment for being a slacker.

BMT 2. I got to the office, only to realize that I had a game tonight. And that game days mean going in late. Which means I could have slept in and completed my project after the sun came up. Also, I was not dressed to see clients as I was in jeans and motorcycle boots.

BMT 3. Pulled up to a red light and the guy next to me pointed at my passenger side tire and made the international symbol for "your tire is flat!" Turns out I had a nail in it. The thing is that yesterday I thought my car was driving kinda like I had a low tire but I didn't check. You know, because that would have been the smart thing to do.

BMT 4. Got to Wheel Works and found out this is the 4th nail I've had in my tires in a year. How many plugs can tires have before they just explode? Perhaps I should stop driving around construction yards looking for hot pieces of ass. I think that's where I keep getting nailed.

BMT 5. I wore a thin-ish shirt with a thin-ish bra. I kept everyone updated about the temperature all day.

BMT 6. Since the tire place had my car there was no afternoon coffee for me. And we all know how chipper I am when I miss a caffeine dose.

BMT 7. Kevin DuBrow was found dead. WHY GOD WHY?!? I'm going to mourn in my own way, light a candle and softly sing "Cum On Feel the Noize"

but what about the shoes?

You may have noticed (assuming anyone other than me is paying attention) that no new shoe pictures have been posted since 11.20.07. What can I say, I'm a slacker. I've been taking the pictures but I've just been too darn busy to move the pictures from the sd card to the computer. But I promise I haven't repeated any shoes and I will get the pictures posted, probably tomorrow.

It's funny how hard this year's NaBloPoMo and NoBloShoeMo. In the past few days I've had to let one of these projects slide and, since I knew I could catch up on the shoes with no repercussions, they were the ones that went on temporary hiatus. And while ditching the daily shoe upload did allow me to only worry about blog posts this hasn't really help me find content. If anything I should have been posting the shoe pics and talking about them, rather than boring everyone with reasons why my pets are awesome.

Thankfully this month is almost over and I only have 5 days left to fill with words and pictures. Hopefully I'll have some great revelation about content or else you'll be treated to 5 more days of me basically type rambling. It's like regular rambling, but without all the ums and uhs.

part 3 of 3

Reasons why Molly is my favorite:

she knew me when I was in my early 20's and still likes me

she's on prozac. It's a pain, but it makes her special in my book

she really doesn't like anyone other than me

she pretends that the other animals don't exist

she has zero interest in human food, so I never have to chase her away from my dinner

she'll have conversations with me (no, I'm not a nutjob. She'll meow responses to me if I talk to her

post-thanksgiving wrap up

I survived my first time hosting Thanksgiving, although it was questionable if I was going to make it towards the end. Apparently, staying up until 1am cooking sides and then getting up at 6am to put the turkey in the oven, was not a good plan. And did you know that it's a myth that the turkey takes HOURS AND HOURS to roast? In reality, a 22.59lb bird only takes about 3.5 to 4 hours to cook. So basically I got up at the crack of dawn for nothing.

Oh, and I cooked the bird with the baggie of giblets in it. Totally not my fault! Before brining, I tried to reach into the bird's ass to remove the extra bits, but then decided that I wasn't feeling up to groping around the cavity, so I put jparks in charge of the job. He reached in, removed the neck, and then claimed that he didn't feel anything else. I kept insisting that there had to be more, but he assured me that there wasn't. Jump ahead to the next day when, after carving the bird, a plastic baggie was discovered. Not surprisingly it contained some cooked giblets. I was totally embarrassed, but also impressed that the bag hadn't melted. I guess turkey farms have gotten smart to how stupid some people are (read as: me and jparks) and are using melt-proof baggies.

All in all, I think the day was a success. We ended up having more food than could fit on the table and now have leftovers to last another week. The house handled having 13 people in it and no one seemed to mind having to balance their plate on their laps. It might not have been the traditional Thanksgiving people are used to, but I still think everyone had fun.

In closing, I would like to share some pearls of wisdom I learned from the day:

Make a list of the dishes you would like to make. When you think you have enough food, remove at least one item from your list. I promise, you will still have enough food (possibly even too much), but one less container to clean.

jparks and I hate cleaning. We need a regular cleaning crew.

Making cranberry sauce is super easy and the recipe can be made up as you go.

There is no one that can resist deviled eggs

Although goat cheese covered in sundried tomatoes and basil is totally resistible

Not only do turkeys cook relatively quickly, but they continue to cook once removed from the oven. Thankfully the white meat was fine, but the dark meat was not tender. In fact it was jerky like.

But most people don't like dark meat, so it was fine

And cats and dogs don't care if the meat is tough

Post Thanksgiving clean up is way worse than Pre-Thanksgiving clean up. What I said about needing a cleaning crew is now doubly true.

Screw shopping on Black Friday if you hosted the day before. Just give into what your body needs: sleeping late, waking up to a husband going to get you coffee, and a manicure/pedicure appointment.

If you are the hostess forget about taking any pictures. I'm not certain I even got one picture of the turkey. So upsetting.

Don't go to Target the night before Thanksgiving because you need a little break from cooking. You'll end up buying legwarmers. And then you'll put them on when you get home and decide that you love them. And you'll consider wearing them outside of your house. And a friend will have to talk you down from that. It's really a bad situation that's totally avoidable.

i'm thankful for my husband

jparks was swiffer wet jetting the floors this morning (the cleaning crew didn't show up yesterday as planned)

"I hate cleaning the floors! I'm no good at it! This sexy body was not built for housework!"

Happy Thanksgiving!

barely making my deadline

It is 11:48pm and this is the first time I've sat down since 3pm. Thus far I've made:

sweet potato pie

green bean casserole (have always hated it, will always hate it)

dirty rice

mirliton casserole

candied yams

Why did that short list take me that long? I haven't a clue. These people coming tomorrow better recognize my mad skillz.

sigh, so tired. tiiiiiirrrreeed.

part 2 of 3

Reasons why Lily is my favorite:

She's so dang cute

She's famous

She tolerates wearing ridiculous outfits simply for my amusement

She's got so much attitude stuffed into her little 3 pound body that I'm always amazed she hasn't exploded

she won't settle in for the night until she licks jparks' head

and sometimes she licks her butt before licking his head

when someone knocks on the door, she barks like she's actually got any bite to her

although sometimes she does have bite. It usually starts with jparks pissing her off and ends with bloodshed on his part

she thinks she's a cat. no, really, she does

part 1 of 3

Reasons why Tangi is my favorite:

she's got short legs and that amuses me

she plays fetch. Seriously, how awesome is that!?!

I can truthfully say she used to live in a van down by the river. (if by van I mean sandbar)

she drools when she's happy

she doesn't want attention often but when she does it's really sweet and, dammit, you better comply or there's no guarantee you won't end up bloody

she's moody. One minute she's loving you, the next she's torn your hand off. Probably because you weren't petting her correctly

she loves splaying out on the floor like this. We call it her bear trap pose because she's just waiting for you to rub her belly so she can attack

she photographs well

she does this thing where she hangs her front paws over the edge of things

she gets lost in our house and walks around crying until you call for her

because she came from my girl scout camp, which explains why she's loony, but makes her extra special with the best "how I got her" story

practically perfect in every way

Today jparks and I started cleaning and organizing for Thanksgiving. This means that he aimed a can of spray paint at my shoes and threaten to use it if I didn't unpack the last four boxes from the move. Because, yes, 3 1/2 months post move I was still staring at four rather large boxes in my office. Why unpack them when my feet rest so nicely on the top? Apparently jparks did not feel the same way and I am now down to two boxes. The plan is to have them totally emptied and gone by Wednesday when the real cleaning crew comes.

While I was dealing with the boxes, jparks was micromanaging me hanging pictures and breaking light fixtures. shhh, don't tell him I told you that last part. He claims the previous inhabitants of this house broke it and he just fell prey to how it was "fixed". Don't you like how the blame went somewhere other than on him. Just like when he hung three pictures next to each other and then decided the middle one was slightly off. This was, of course, not his fault. The blame fell on the middle frame which, according to jparks, is slimmer and taller than the other two, identical frames.

Sometimes it's hard being married to the World's Most Perfect Man. But I figure someone's got to do it otherwise the women of the world would just follow jparks everywhere. Those not following and throwing themselves at him would just sit all day and fantasize about how rugged, manly and perfect he is. Men, unable to get dates, would spend days wondering how they could be more like him, why they can't seem to achieve the same level of perfection that he has. See, I'm taking the grenade for the rest of the world.

You're welcome.

recipe for an upset stomach

You'll need the following:

1 person
1 pizza
1 order of bread sticks
3 little to go tubs of ranch dressing
a pinch of stupidity

1. Get your person really hungry. Preferably have them do 3 hours of exercise with no snacks.
2. Order them a pizza, and while you're at it why not get some bread sticks too!
3. Have the hungry person, who is probably not thinking clearly, go pick up the food.
4. Make sure the pizza place gives them permission to take as much ranch dressing for dipping as they need.
5. Once home, allow hungry person to eat bread sticks until they can't eat anymore. Once they reach "full" remind them that they have pizza they haven't touched.
6. Watch the person eat a piece of pizza. They may seem skeptical and look like they know this is a bad idea, but that won't stop them.
7. Allow a little bit of time to go by (probably about 4 hours). Place bread sticks back in front of them. Don't forget the ranch!
8. Encourage the person to eat way more bread sticks than they even thought they could.
9. Watch as the person realizes that they have consumed almost all of the medium pizza sized order of bread sticks. Don't they look a bit ill?
10. Now point out that two tubs of ranch dressing are also missing.
11. And remind them of the greasy, gooey cheese on the bread sticks.
12. Don't let them forget that they ate some pizza too.
13. Viola! Your person should now be curled up on the floor in the fetal position, clutching at their stomach, while moaning incoherently. Job well done!

enquiring minds want to know

Here in my office building each floor has its own set of bathrooms, one women's room with several stalls, and a men's room with a couple of stalls and a urinal (I assume because I'm not quite ballsy ((Heh, ballsy get it?)) to go in there to check). The other women that work on my floor use the bathroom on our floor. None of us walk up or down the stairs unless we are out of toilet paper, or someone has pooped ALL OVER THE TOILETS, which was the case last week. (Seriously, on the toilets not in them. It was really quite the amazing feat)

But the boys are a different story, it's not uncommon to see them walk to another floor to use the bathroom. At first I thought they were just doing this when they have to drop the kids off at the pool but, unless they all have kids that like to go to the pool multiple times daily, I think they do this whenever they go to the bathroom.

I'm so baffled by this behavior. Is there some kind of universally understood man law that all men must use the bathroom furtherest from them? Are they worried that some one in their office will go the bathroom at the same time and see their man parts? Can't they just use a stall if that's the case?

So come on boys, fess up. Why are all of the men in my building doing this? Do you all do this? Do you enjoy hiking to the bathroom? Does it give you extra time to load the cannons so once you get there you can fire at will?

I can't imagine a better reason to have kids

jparks (after folding clothes for maybe 3 minutes. maybe): "I'm sooo tired of folding clothes. I've been doing this for hours. Can we hire someone to do our laundry for us?"

me: "Well, we could or we could have a kid and make it do the laundry for us."

"That doesn't seem right, a kid can't do our laundry."

"No, not for about 6 years, but after that we get 12 years of laundry-free living"

"But for 6 years we have to do its laundry"

"Yeah, but in the end we win."

avoca-doh

Have you ever wanted something so totally stupid that you just couldn't bring yourself to actually buy it? Like if you shelled out money for it you would automatically be branded an idiot and all the world would mock you? That's how I feel about this avocado slicer. I have no idea why I need it, but I do. Yes, I could slice an avocado with a knife but why would I when such a fine tool is made specifically for the job?

The real desire for this kitchen tool came about when Ms. Martha Stewart added it to her Macy's line of products. Before she had it, the avocado slicer was just another gimmicky "As Seen On Tv" item and I could rational not buying it. "It's got it's own infomercial, and nothing on an infomercial is good." But damn that Martha, she has it in her line and now I neeeed it.

I was at Macy's today buying some Thanksgiving supplies and I saw the avocado slicer. I picked it up, walked around with it for a few minutes, and then put it back. As I put it back I thought "I can't buy this, Alton Brown would be so disappointed. It's a uni-tasker." At some point in time I'll decide that wanting perfectly sliced avocados is more important to me than Alton's approval.

Some day dear avocado slicer, some day you will be mine. Until then, I'll see you in my dreams.

follow up

In case you people think I'm kidding about bad stuff happening in the mornings let me show you the drawer that I broke getting out of the shower this morning:



It's not totally broken-broken just kind of broken. The track is bent and I'm hoping the track in the cabinet isn't bent too. (although I suspect it might be)

The lesson in this is, don't piss me off or I'll come stay the night at your house and in the morning bad shit will happen. And you don't want that, now do you?

not morning compliant

I've never been a morning person, but lately that has been a gross understatement. For some reason, lately no matter how early I go to bed or how well I sleep, morning comes and kicks my ass like a mofo. I wake up grumpy, snap at jparks, grumble a lot under my breath, drink an asinine amount of espresso, and then take forever to get ready for work, all for no good reason. And even after leaving the house, I'm still not quite right until around 10:30am.

Besides all the general pissyness I express first thing in the morning, I've also noticed that bad things tend to happen. Things like forgetting my wallet at home, losing my wallet, falling down the stairs, or getting a red light violation for only pausing when I turned right on a red. You know what, in my book a rolling stop IS A STOP. It's right there in its name.

I think the only logical solution to this morning problem is to no longer get up before 10am. First step in making this happen is to quit my job. Then I'll have to teach jparks to get out of bed without waking me up. Next, I'll build some stairs up to the bed so Lily stops whining because she jumped down only to realize that "hey, this ground isn't warm like up there. I waaaant baaaaccck upppp". And, finally, I'm going to have to blackout my bedroom window, because whoever sold me this house didn't tell me that the sun shines through that thing like the Eye of Sauron first thing in the morning and wakes you by burning your retinas through your closed eyelids.

Or I could just try to figure out why I'm not sleeping well and how I can become more rested. But that just seems too simple.

ick!

As we all know I've been taking pictures of my shoes every day this month and posting them on flickr. And up until today I've only had nice people comment about my various pairs. Nice people without foot fetishes. Nice people that don't make me hate the internets.

Okay, let's back up. I posted this picture today:


I posted it in the NoBloPoMo group, which is not a fetish group. I did not give it any tags that would indicate I want fetish people to look at it. This was supposed to be a totally innocent picture. And yet I got a comment on it that was not innocent.

I've since blocked that particular flickr user and, by doing that, all of their comments have been deleted. But I know what the comments were and I'm still totally creeped out. I have nothing against people with foot/shoe fetishes but ugh, leave me alone!

I try to understand him, but sometimes it's impossible

me: "You remember that Aimee Mann concert I went to last year? Well, she's coming back and I got you a ticket if you want to go."

jparks: "Was that the concert you went to with Laura and you guys were in the forest?"

"I don't know what concert you're talking about. I was in a forest?"

"Yeah, you went to see Aimee Mann, in the forest and you sat on a hill with the elves."

"Elves?"

"Yeah, remember?"

"I remember going to see Aimee Mann with Lauren in Stern's Grove and we met Laura there. But there were no elves. And it really wasn't a forest."

"Yeah, that's the one! There were elves and hippies there!"

"There might have been hippies, but I don't really remember any elves."

"Elves, hippies, same thing."

"Um, yeah. Sure. But that's still not the Aimee Mann concert I was talking about. I was talking about the one at Bimbo's"

"ohhh, Bimbos! Will there be a bunch of bimbo's there, because that would be awesome!"

"ugh"

date night!

This has been a really long week for jparks and I. His team announced their project this past Monday and that meant many days of going into the office at 8am and not coming home until 1am. And, since I'm not one to sit at home, I signed up for some extra circus classes this week and had to work some nights too. This means we saw each other for about 28 seconds on Wednesday night and then maybe another 46 second this morning. And that was it FOR THE WHOLE WEEK. In fact, we've seen each other so little of each other that I was a bit shocked when I walked into the bathroom this morning and there was a man in my shower. Hello and Good Morning!

So, in order to secure some time with my husband, I sent him an email stating that I've declared it date night and booked a table for two at a nearby restaurant. (I also might have threaten to kick his boss's ass if jparks pussed out on me) I'm not saying which restaurant because jparks will read this and it'll ruin the surprise. But I will tell you that's it's close to an Apple Store because, dang it, date night WILL include me getting a new MacBook.

I hope that our lives calm down a tiny bit in the next few weeks. I'm not sure how long jparks can work on such a crazy schedule without burning out. And I'm not sure how long I can handle having him basically live at Google. I mean, I do get some comfort from my loneliness in the form of shoes, but that can only last a girl so long. Although, shoes could probably last this girl a really really long time.

pissed

Since September I've been a member of a flickr group called the Working Closet. We take pictures of what we wear every day and post them for all the world to see. It's honestly more exciting than it sounds, I swear.

So I've been uploading self portraits for a couple of months now and it's become a running joke that I don't smile. If I were a LOLcat I would be "serious regan does not approve". And I have no good reason for why I'm not smiling.

The frowning started strong here:


Looked like it might start to turn into a smile here:


Diverted into sarcasm here:


And then went right back to pissed here:


I never really thought of myself as unhappy person, but these pictures sure do a fine job of making me seem like one.

So, because I don't have enough freaking goals for this month (one blog post per day! A different pair of shoes every day!), I'm adding another one to the mix. I want to take one picture of me smiling. One picture! Surely that can't be too much to ask.

Yeah, we'll see how this goes.

Years ago I waited tables at Applebee's and my manager always told me I didn't smile enough. I always thought she was insane, but what do you know, she was right. Damn her. hmm, maybe my smile muscles are broken. Sometimes I think I'm smiling but it turns out I'm not. See, my smile muscles are broken. Or maybe I was born without any. Like a smile birth defect. I was born to be permanent gloomy girl. grumble.

I'm tired

The team jparks is on at Google has announced their super secret project. Finally. Hey jparks' bosses, when do I get my husband back?

I accidentally wore a very low cut shirt today with no cami under it. I also had a Brownie troop meeting today. It was not a good combination

Does anyone want to come over and be my personal litter box scooper? Or better yet, does anyone want two cats, slightly used?

Ew, not used in a sexual way. That's sick, you perv

You know what I bet is delicious? McDonald's Iced Coffee

You know I'm totally kidding, right? Although I would like to meet the person that thinks "I want an Iced Coffee and a Big Mac. Thank god my dream is now a reality."

Do they make self walking dogs? Is that an upgrade option for Lily? MTV, will you come pimp my dog?

My head hurts. Does ice cream cause headaches? Not like brain freeze, but actual headaches?

I'm asking about the ice cream randomly. I mean, I didn't just eat a half pint of it.

And I'm not thinking about going back for the other half of that pint.

mmm, ice cream.

just a normal workplace conversation

me: "You know, I didn't find CostCo to be all that"

boss: "Really, why?"

"Well, they don't have the kind of toilet paper I like. I'm very loyal to my brands and I like my normal toilet paper."

"Really, their toilet paper selection offended you?"

"No, their lack of toilet paper selection offended me. I like what I like. I have a discriminating butt. Jparks too"

"huh."

"And they didn't have the cat litter my cats like either."

"Wow, your household is really devoted to its poop routine, isn't it."

"You know, I never thought about it but I guess we are."

it all comes out in the wash

Remember how two weeks ago I left my wallet at home? And it sucked and I was pissed and had to live off of Chex Mix for lunch? Well, can we go back to that time? Because, as of this morning, my wallet is gone. Gone, baby, gone.

The jury is still out over whether it was stolen or not, but I can promise you that we searched high and low in the house for it, at the ass crack of dawn, and found nothing. Wait, that's a lie because we did find something. we found that a good time can be had looking for a wallet, at the ass crack of dawn (have I mentioned that?). What is especially fun is watching your wild animal of a husband literally rip the rooms apart, including moving furniture and dumping pile of clothes out of the hampers and leaving them strewn across the bedroom floor. At one point he called to me "Hey, come hold this mattress up!" and "Let's move this couch. Again." Dude, if it wasn't behind the couch the first time then it's still not there. Uh, I mean, I love you honey. Thanks for helping me look.

After deciding that the wallet was not turning up, I got to cancel all of my credit cards, which was so much fun my body almost exploded. Boy, do I ever love credit card companies! They are so understanding and helpful when I asked for a replacement card faster than 7 to 10 business days. Their response of "I'm sorry but 7 to 10 business days is the fastest we can ship one out to you" was such a comforting lie that I feel great about not having access to any money for a week. I mean, who needs to have the option of buying lunch and putting gas in their car? NOT ME!

UPDATE

So that first part was written while I was at work. Now I'm home and I can't even believe what I'm about to write.

Jparks found my wallet. In the dishwasher.

Yeah. The motherfucking dishwasher.

I guess it fell in when I was loading the dishes and, not realizing that, I turned the machine on. I now have a wallet full of really clean, yet totally useless credit cards.

I don't even know how to follow up this grand act of stupidity. Do I wash other very important things? Like maybe my cell phone. Or marriage license. Or do I just let jparks make fun of me from here to forever?

Sheesh, even I amaze myself with how dumb I can be sometimes.

chores

Today, while vacuuming and doing the laundry I flipped a circuit breaker switch accidentally. This means no more house cleaning ever again. It's obviously too risky a chore because I was out of cable, internet, and power to a couple of rooms for a few minutes. MINUTES folks, that's like forever in no cable years.

Also, the cats are out of food and I'm taking my sweet ass time refilling their bowl. I would move faster but they are so nice and loving when they want something that I'm kind of enjoying them not having food. They follow me around and become very vocal, in a sad pathetic sort of way. Plus they willingly let me pet them. Without biting me. Seriously, hungry cats are the best. I just better not cross the line from hungry, sweet cats to hungry, eat my face off cats. Eh, maybe I'll go fill their bowl now, I like having a face.

my precious

I'm not a particularly girly girl, but I'm not really a tomboy either. I do have a few stereotypical girl traits though: I love shoes, walking around the mall even if I don't need anything, and makeup. The shoes and mall thing make sense to me, but my obsession with makeup is an enigma.

On a daily basis I wear little to no makeup. We all know of my recent discovery of mascara and other than that I maybe wear a little chapstick or, if I'm feeling saucy, some lip gloss. Woohoo, a hint of color! I am a crazy woman.

But if I'm dropped into a Sephora than all hell breaks loose. I go into a trance and when I come to my senses again I've got a bag of makeup in my hands worth enough to feed a family of four for weeks. Maybe even months if one of the salesgirls has approached me offering help.

Last year Sephora offered a Blockbuster Palette that made me feel tingly in my special place but before I could order one, they were out of stock and I was left to mope about, lamenting the fact that I did not have one. damn you Spehora and your poor planning! You and Nintendo should get together and laugh over how you like to not meet the needs of society.

Well, imagine my surprise and excitement when they brought the palette back this year. With new colors! And a higher price tag! (figures. bitches.) I, of course, ordered one and then checked the tracking every day (multiple times each day) to watch my precious make its way across the country to my loving arms. Once it arrived I threw jparks out and the Palette and I had a few moments of alone time. It was all I was expecting and more.

I've had it for a few days now and I'm kinda a bit nuts about it. It arrived on Wednesday and on Thursday and Friday I brought it to work with me. Yeah, really. It sat on my desk and stared at me all day. My bosses asked what it was and when I exclaimed "Makeup!" and then opened it to show them, they just looked at me like I was a lunatic. And maybe I am because I've yet to actually use any of the makeup in it.

Right now it's so pretty and new I can't bring myself to drag a brush through any of it. I want it to stay perfect. I like looking at all of the little colors contained into their spots all perfectly untouched and fresh. I like how the lip glosses have perfectly smooth tops. And how the eye shadows haven't been accidentally touch by a brush with another color on it, contaminating the first color.

I mean, look at this, doesn't it make you a bit randy:










Seriously, I love it. And maybe tomorrow I'll actually use it. Yeah, tomorrow definitely.

I can has turkay?

This year jparks and I are not going home for Thanksgiving. I am fairly buttsore about this, but I knew our trips back to NOLA would have to become less frequent once we bought the house. Stupid house

What I've been debating is even though I can't go home does that mean that I have to skip having a traditional Thanksgiving meal? Can't I have some turkey and pumpkin pie like a normal person? Can't I stuff myself so full I pass out on the couch? Don't I at least deserve that?

So here's what I'm thinking: Undead Easter, but at Thanksgiving and sans zombies. And more potluck-ish. I would happily make turkey and a dessert item and then have everyone bring over one Thanksgiving-y item. Are there any people that aren't going out of town that might be interested in doing this?

Did I mention that we have a larger house now with more options for the sitting? And a bigger tv with surround sound for the watching of the movies? And a large coffee table for the playing of the games? And a cute dog for the petting?

So, who's game for Outcast Thanksgiving?

A+

You know that kid in school that always waited until the night before the 20 page paper was due to start on it and then managed to still get an A+? That was totally me. Every time I got an assignment I swore that this would be the time I would get a head start and have the paper completed before the due date. I would make a timeline and stick to it for a day. Maybe less.

I can tell that NaBloPoMo is going to be the same way. I sat at my desk all day today with my blog's "create new post" page open and couldn't come up with a damn thing to say. I even actually did work to avoid making a post.

Did you want to hear about the impromptu Halloween party a friend of mine threw last night? Probably not. Did you want to hear about how it was great family planning on my part not to be home for the trick or treaters (you know because they are cute and would have made me want to have a kid)? Probably not. Do you care that a newspaper showed up on my porch this morning with "ARE YOU READY?" boldly printed across the top of it referring to earthquake preparedness? (The weird part? We don't get the newspaper. It's a sign!) Probably not. I had nothing.

And I still have nothing but here you have it, my kick off for NaBloPoMo. My last minute submission. I so rock at staying on top of deadlines!

This month is going to be painful.

shakey

Last night I nearly pooped my pants. No really, I'm not kidding. It was a tough call between pooping my pants, puking, and passing out. In the end, I settled on a fourth option, crying, because it seemed the easiest to deal with.

See, last night we had this little earthquake (5.6! Not so little to me!) and I was freaked out way more than I can explain. I was at the grocery which is very close to our house and our house is close to the epicenter. This all translates to a good bit of shaking.

Let me say now that we are fine. Our house is fine, our animals are fine, nothing broke, nothing really fell other than some books tipping over and a few things shifting a tiny bit. But I did not fair so well.

Since moving to the Bay Area I have been mentally preparing myself for earthquakes. After trying to deal with the thought of them in a few different ways I settled on denial. Why buy an earthquake kit when we'll never feel one all the way down here in the South Bay? Bottled water, smottled water, we'll never get one this far south. Are you starting to see how dumb I am?

The fact that last night's earthquake was not only noticeable, but actually caused (minimal) damage to the grocery store that I was standing in, totally freaked me out. Hello!! Did no one get the memo that the South Bay ISN'T SUPPOSED TO GET EARTHQUAKES??? DO NOT WANT!

I managed to pull myself together enough to check out and get home. Of course, pulling myself together meant standing in shock for a bit while the produce guy asked if I was going to pass out or if I wanted some water. Once home, I immediately dissolved into tears which did not stop for quite a while. Lots of friends called or texted to check on us (thanks! It made me feel so cared for!) and some tried to lighten the mood by suggesting that jparks and I might get eaten by "the gaping, hungry maw of Mother Earth." (cough cough dsandler cough cough). By 10 I had worn myself out enough that I was ready for bed, but I didn't sleep that well as I kept waking up expecting aftershocks.

The lessons learned are: 1) even in the South Bay I'm not guaranteed an earthquake free life and 2) jparks won't let me move. While I know that the built up pressure has been released and chances are we won't get another quake for awhile, I'm still buying a Costco membership this week and stocking up on supplies. Obviously denial didn't work out so well for me, so now I'm moving onto to preparedness.

coming soon to a blog near you

woohoo, it's the 30th which means it's almost November, otherwise known as NaBloPoMo! The world has never known such excitement.

Since I've been hording post topics I thought it would only be fair to give you a tease of what's to come. Hopefully these things sound good enough that you'll want to come back and read a full post about them. Or they may sound totally boring and you'll want to come back and leave snarky comments about how pathetic I am. Either way, please come back!

boys' bathroom habits

my new pot (it's so pretty) and recipes

stupid stuff jparks does and says (I have nothing specific but I'm certain he'll give me material)

Thanksgiving

uh, crap, is that all I have?

the house, yeah that's something! I'll talk about the house

shoes! Because it's also NaBloShoeMo (for anyone that cares, my goal is to wear a different pair of shoes everyday in November. I suspect I can make it a week before I hit a repeat)

a new MacBook (ha, now that I've mentioned it on my blog, jparks HAS to buy it for me)

Is there something you want to know about me? Because I'm certain I'll get desperate enough for post topics and will happily answer your questions. Email them to me or leave them in the comments

some other crap

Are you all titillated by these post teasers? I hope so, otherwise November is going to be really boring for you.

klutzy doesn't even begin to describe it

On August 18th, we moved into our new house. That means it took 69 days for me to fall down the stairs for the first time. Frankly, I'm surprised I made it that long. And since I like to go all out when I do things, I fell down them not once, but twice this morning.

Don't fret, I'm okay. A sore backside and a bruised ego are the only injuries I got from my tumble(s).

The first fall was from the second step down all the way to the bottom one (I can't phrase that in a way that makes sense. It was the second to the top step down to the bottom step but not the floor. You know what I mean? kinda? maybe?). Limbs were flailing all around and I finally gripped the wall enough to stop right at the last second. I landed face down and had to just remain very very still for a moment to absorb what had just happened. Meanwhile, Tangi and Lily sat at the top of the stairs just staring wide-eyed. Once I landed and was no longer a flattening threat to either of them, they both came down to sniff and make sure I was alive. Once they saw that I was fine I'm fairly certain I heard them laughing. I figured that jparks would be immediately come to check on me, but he didn't. Turns out Mr. World's Lightest Sleeper somehow slept through it. That's quite the feat for him.

The second tumble was totally dumb and I really should have known better. I was almost out of the door for the day when I realized I needed to grab something from upstairs. I ran back up in a hurry, pausing for a half second to think "Should I take my heels off", but decided to keep moving as I was running late enough as it was. Who has 3 seconds to spare for heel removal, that's just a time consuming activity!

In my haste on the way down, one ankle crumbled and that sent me tumbling down the stairs again. The good news is that this time I managed to catch myself after about 4 steps. Again, the animals stared at me but I swear I heard Tangi say "The moron did it again!" under her breath. And I think Lily muttered "Told you to take those heels off" but I could be wrong.

I told jparks that I'm going to need one of those chairs built into the wall that carries me up to the second floor. It might not be a necessity now, but once I'm knocked up (not happening any time soon, so calm down) it might be. Or I could just learn how to walk up and down stairs like a normal person. Or, my favorite idea yet, I could make jparks piggy back me up and down the stairs. Think how buff he would become! That's why I'm pushing for that idea, because it is so beneficial for him. And I'm all for jparks forming good, healthy habits.

will blog for coffee

Question: What's the most surefire sign you can get on a Monday morning that says the rest of your week will suck?

Answer: You don't have time to make coffee on your way out of the house and you pull up to the Peet's by your office only to realize you don't have your wallet. Or any cash. Or a check. Or even a gift card from another store that maybe you could trade to the barista for a latte. All I had was a half chewed pack of gum and a tube of vegan lemon meringue lip gloss and the barista seemed uninterested in either of those things so I was left coffee-less.

I'm now at the office trying to suck down one of these foul things in the caramel variety. Each time I take a sip of it, I have to actively swallow it. I force it down and then pause for a second to make sure it stays there. That's just how tasty this beverage is.

The headache from lack of caffeine is just starting to set in so I know this is going to be a good day. And I haven't even started to think about how I"m going to acquire food at lunchtime yet. I wonder how many times I can make this mistake before I get smart and start stashing a $20 in my desk for emergency use. Wasn't it just last week that I forgot my wallet at home? gah, I am dumb.

And on an unrelated note, here are various pictures from jparks' birthday party that Linda took. The ones of me heading into the foam pit are delightful.

revelations

Lately I've had quite a few interesting revelations

Mascara is awesome! So this isn't a total revelation, I have used mascara before, but lately I've been wearing it daily and it makes me feel girly. And like I've actually done more with myself than just dragging my ass out of bed and walking directly out the door for the office. Why didn't one of you tell me to slap some mascara on a long time ago?

Our Tivos hate me. The ones downstairs won't tape anything that comes on ABC. And the one upstairs started to tape 30 Rock tonight before it went radio silent. Then, a bit more than halfway through the Office, the dialogue came back. So now I know how 30 Rock starts and how the Office ends. Dammit Tivo, what's going on with you?!? (jparks will read this and give me a long lecture about how it's not the Tivos' faults, but the networks'. To that I say: BOO! let me blame the Tivo)

Dressing up for dance class wasn't the worst thing in the world. Granted I was baby steps away from having a nervous breakdown on my way to class that night, but once I was there all my worries went away. I even managed to embrace my inner slut and be comfortable.

jparks birthday party is this weekend and I haven't a clue about what kind of cupcakes to make. Or what to get him for a gift. Does this qualify me for Worst. Wife. Ever.?

No matter how many pairs of shoes I own, there will alway be another pair that I want. Like these. I can't stop thinking about them. It's an illness I tell'ya! I need to set some kind of goal so I can obtain it and buy those shoes as my treat. Something really easy, like if I manage to read the issue of Real Simple that arrived today before the next one arrives I get to go buy those shoes.

We are out of or almost out of the following household items: toothpaste, toilet paper, laundry detergent, fabric softener, and deodorant. The issue is that I don't have time to go to Target. What kind of person does that make me? Because really, no matter how busy you are, there should always be time to go to Target. The revelation is that I am a sorry excuse for a human.

stressful

Folks, today I have a wicked headache. I thought it might be from a lack of caffeine, but after consuming a latte the pounding has not stopped. I'm beginning to think maybe it's stress related.

There are a number of things I'm stressed about right now ranging from totally ridiculous things to things that totally warrant stress. Like is my new deodorant working or should I switch back to my old favorite?

Stress #1: I have a Brownie troop meeting on Monday. It's our first official meeting of the year and I don't know what to do with them. I bought a bag of Halloween rings from Target, can we just play with those for an hour and a half? What if I get a bag of candy and we practice trick or treating? I'm such a lame troop leader.

Stress #2: Next week is the last meeting of my sensual dance class and the teacher instructed us to "dress the part". Uh, my hips don't want to dress the part. They like being covered by yoga pants during class. My ass specifically wrote a letter at the start of the class expressing it's desire to remain under wraps. The teacher suggested doing our hair and make up all sexy, but I go straight to class from work. The last thing I need is to be in the office looking like your mom a whore. We were also told to start thinking about our song we want to dance to. Any suggestions?

Stress #3: Jparks and I are planning a Disney World trip for February. Actually I'm planning a Disney World trip for February and I loathe vacation planning. LOATHE. It's just too much pressure for me. I like to sit back and relax while jparks selects hotels and flights. That way, if the hotel sucks I'm not to blame. The good news is, if this trip ever gets booked we'll have another set of these fun pictures.

Stress #4: Halloween is quickly approaching and I've got zero plans. Something is very wrong with that.

Stress #5: I think I need to paint more in the master bathroom. When will the fucking painting end? I am so over home ownership.

Stress #6: NaBloPoMo is starting again in November and there are a ton of things I want to blog about now, but I'm hording the thoughts so I have ideas for then. But I'm starting to get worried that I'm not posting enough now and you'll get bored and won't be here to read all my NaBloPoMo posts. This is a delicate balance that I'm trying to achieve. And now I see that it sounds like I have amazing blog post ideas up my sleeve. Let me assure you that I do not.

Stress #7: I changed deodorants and I can't tell if this new stuff is working. And since stress makes me sweaty I'm really not helping this situation any. Do I stink? Would you tell me if I did?

sneak preview

The house is almost ready to be seen. We have the painter finishing up this week (well, he might come back and paint more in our bedroom, but I'm still undecided about that) and the last piece of furniture that I wanted to have in place will hopefully arrive soon. That means pictures and a house warming party are quickly approaching.

Until then, enjoy this one picture sneak preview:

good karma my ass

I went to the gym this morning and found, on the dashboard of my selected treadmill, a platinum engagement ring. I knew that somewhere there was a woman freaking out that her ring was missing so I did the nice thing and brought it to the gym staff. At the time I wasn't thinking about karma, I was thinking that not hocking the ring and buying shoes was the right thing to do. It was later in the day that I realized turning this ring in had earned me some major karma points and I knew exactly how I wanted to redeem them.

Earlier this week I had entered a contest on Live 105.3's website. It required that you come up with five questions you would like to have Robert Smith of the Cure answer. The person with the best questions would get to interview Mr. Smith for 105.3's website and four runners up would get to meet him backstage at the concert. I figured that I now had some karma points banked and could turn them in for at least a runner up spot.

Except karma hates me. I have waited all day for a phone call or email from the station and have gotten nothing. Dang it, my questions were good. Good in the way that only some obsessive freak that wore all black and "identified" with the Cure as a teenager can come up with. Good like I actually put thought into them and didn't just ask "who are your influences?" Good like, why didn't I win?!?

I told jparks earlier that if I had known karma wasn't going to pay out I would have kept the ring for myself. Which is totally not true, but I'm buttsore enough right now about not winning (NOT EVEN RUNNER UP!) that I am enjoying pretending that it could be true. I could have pawned the ring and bought a Robert Smith autographed something or other. Dammit karma, what's up with not giving me my prize for being a good human? All I can say is that the next time I find an engagement ring Robert Smith better be around the next corner. Or else.

and just to go for full disclosure I did waver back and forth over writing this post. If I didn't write it then I'm left stewing in my own anger over not winning. But by posting I've pretty much sealed the deal on not winning. Well, confirming my lose feels better than stewing in anger.

Hello October!

If I had to pick one month to be my bestest friend, October would win. We would have sleep overs, eat pizza, and braid each other's hair. I would buy a best friend's heart necklace and October and I would wear it proudly. I love October. Lily's birthday is in October. Jparks' birthday is in October. Jobs that I start in October turn out to be the ones I like the most (I started my current job on October 16th of last year). October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month (ladies go feel around on your boobs). Plus October likes to go out with a bang, the best holiday ever, Halloween.

I'm hoping that by the time Halloween rolls around jparks and I will have some kind of fun plans that require costumes. And since I hate last minute costume planning, I'm starting to think about them now and am coming up with absolutely no ideas. I'm going to turn the task over to you in the hopes that you might have some great ideas for us.

I'm fine with matching outfits (two years ago I was a witch and he was my black cat) as well as totally unrelated costume ideas. I would love for his to be as embarrassing as possible, because really that just makes it more fun for everyone involved. Except for maybe jparks, but whatever.

And even if you don't have costume suggestions, you should leave me a comment in honor of The Great Mofo Delurk which is happening around the interweb today. Drop me a line saying hi so I know that more than just spammers are checking out this here blog o'mine.

flight plans

Know what sucks? Not being able to check luggage when you fly. See, I'm going to LA tomorrow for two days and I'm flying with my boss. He has forbidden me from checking luggage which isn't a huge deal for a two day trip. Unless you're me and you need lots of liquids. Liquids like shampoo, toothpaste, deodorant, face lotion, hair product, mascara, lip gloss, should I keep going or do you the idea? And I only get to bring 3 ounce bottles of stuff and one zip top bag.

This is why I don't vacation for just a couple of days. When you go for more than three days you're expected to check luggage. You're expected to bring toothpaste. And a full sized deodorant. Glorious, glorious full sized things. When we went to Maui I brought 40 bottles of sunscreen. Just. Because. I Could.

The other issue with not checking luggage is that it takes up one of the two vital carry on spots you get. So tomorrow the camera will have to go into the luggage. As well as my laptop. And my in flight entertainment will have to be carried in my purse. So it can't be anything bigger than a book. This is not going to end well. I need lots of stuff to make me forget that I'm in the air. I need lots of stuff to keep my mind off of the fact that I might puke right into the lap of the stranger sitting next to me.

Oy, at least there will be drinks poolside when I land.

SHOES!

Okay, in truth it's only some of the shoes.

This weekend I had the brilliant idea of lining all my shoes up on the steps and taking a picture. But the fatal flaw was that I have more shoes than steps (even if I put three pairs per step). Plus you couldn't really see the shoes at the top of the steps.

After some carefully scouting places in the house I decided I should lay them all out in the living room. But they wouldn't all fit. I was going to break them into two pictures, flats and heels, but I ran out of time before I got to the heels.

So stay tuned, heels coming soon. And, if I can figure out how to move the coffee table, maybe you'll get a shot of all the pairs together.



If you click the picture, it'll take you to flickr where you can see all the notes I added.

Pam Anderson stole the part from me

There is a meme going around the interwebs right now that has you realize how you are wasting your life at your current job by pointing out all the careers you would be really good at and that you would actually enjoy. It's like a trip to your high school guidance counselor but 10 years too late.

I finally broke down after seeing the lovely Ms. Chez Shoes take the quiz and get slotted for many things including: dog groomer, sign maker, and butcher. Wow, such diversity! I had to find out what I'm meant to do career wise. Maybe I was supposed to be a sign maker too. I've always loved the smell of tempera paint. And glitter is so much fun.

After completing the quiz my results popped up and they really weren't all that diverse:

1. Elementary School Teacher
2. High School Teacher
3. Teacher Assistant
4. Early Childhood Educator
5. Professor
6. Nanny
7. Communications Specialist
8. Print Journalist
9. Critic
10. Market Research Analyst
11. Writer
12. Translator
13. Activist
14. Public Relations Specialist
15. Political Aide
16. Public Policy Analyst
17. Special Education Teacher
18. Physical Education Teacher
19. Adoption Counselor
20. Career Counselor
21. Music Teacher / Instructor
22. Lifeguard
23. Foreign Language Instructor
24. ESL Teacher
25. Correctional Officer
26. Actor

How many times can "You shouldn't have switched out of the education department in college, you moron" be stated in one list? Apparently, a lot.

I understand that I probably should have been a teacher but really the most fitting suggestions on the list are lifeguard and actor. Because when people meet me they always ask if I ever auditioned for Baywatch. I just look like I should be wearing a red bikini, holding a flotation device, and running down the beach in slow-mo. awww yeah.

do you have $20 for boobies?

Big thank yous to everyone that has donated thus far. The great news is that I'm close to my goal. The not so great news is that while I'm close, but not there yet. I still need to raise $40 to reach my goal but the SF Komen Race Center is still 40% away from its overall goal. Now I know that I can't personally raise $241,134 but I know we can do our part and meet my goal. Maybe we can even raise a bit more than that $500.

And if you're on the fence about donating let me say that the Race is going to be torture for me. It's been cold the past couple of mornings and running has made me feel like my lungs are filled with ice. And the race is happening a bit north of here which means it'll be even colder. So for your donation you get to be in your warm bed having warm dreams and I get to be out running in the cold trying to not keel over from frost bite. Okay maybe not frost bite, but I'll definitely have cold hands. And a runny nose. A runny nose people! That's just torture.

Clicky click.

I think this is the perfect reason to quit my job

Have you been on the edge of your seat wondering how our painter debacle ended? I am happy to report that on Monday he showed up exactly on time (maybe he reads my blog. Hello Mr. Painter Man!) and finished our living room and half bathroom by noon (I think. I wasn't home and jparks didn't tell me exactly what time the guy finished). I'm thinking he only did one coat in the bath and it really needs another coat or at least some spots need to be touched up. But I know jparks was getting antsy because he really needed to get to work so there was no time for second coats.

By the end of the day jparks was all "We are never hiring another painter. Never!" But the truth is that I will hire another painter to finish up the house. There is no way I'm going to have the time or energy to do it myself and some of it will just end up a big mess if I try. The problem (again) is that someone needs to be home while the painter is there. And as I mentioned, it's really hard for either jparks or I to work from home.

So today I was toying with ways to get the job finished without either of us having to be home. Maybe I could hire a house sitter to sit in the house while the painter is there. Or hire a cleaning crew to come while the painter is working. Then pay the painter a bit extra to watch the cleaning crew and pay the cleaning crew a bit extra to watch the painter. Or maybe I could buy a nanny cam and set it up in the room that the painter is working in. Or maybe I could get a camcorder and strap it to Lily's back. Then I could have her sit and video the painter all day.

Really, how can I pick just one of these ideas when they are all so good?

we're getting close

Come on people, we've got 12 days until the Race and I still need to raise $190 to meet my goal. Let's all click and give for a good cause.

Hooray for boobies!

dude, owning a home is stressful

People keep asking to see pictures of our new house and I keep saying soon! Really soon! But not right now! See, I'm a bit OCD (surprise!) and I want my house to be finished before I start showing it off. Hence the housewarming not happening until October. Of 2012.

First on my list of things to do was get the living room painted. We decided to go with painters for the job because there are stairs involved. Stairs and really high spots. And I'm short. And you might not know it from my hobbies but I'm afraid of heights. And I'm afraid of being on a ladder during an earthquake. Is there a name for that particular phobia?

After having a couple of painters give us bids I decided not to hire the cheapest guy, but to hire the guy that could come the earliest and said he could get the job done in one day because he has an assistant. That was great news because jparks and I can't really hang out at the house instead of going to work for more than one day. We are both way too important for that.

On Wednesday the painter showed up. Without his assistant. "Hey, this might take two days since I don't have my assistant. But he should be here tomorrow and we should be able to get it done." okay, fine. jparks will try to work from home that morning and I'll take the afternoon off. Except, later the same day, he announces "You know, if my assistant can't make it tomorrow I might have to finish up on Monday." Do you see where this is going, because I didn't. I was all "Of course his assistant will show up! People are nice and good and always do as they promise. Look a rainbow!" I'm such a twit. Or knitting wit, as my mom likes to say.

On Thursday he came back sans assistant. That is also the day my head exploded. I think the two things are related but who knows for sure. He painted enough to say "look I painted!" but not enough that we are able to put our living room back together. Because being able to sit on your couch is a luxury jparks and I just don't need right now. Today we had a coffee table delivered. I have no freaking idea where it's going to go, but that's part of the fun. Our living room is a giant Tetris game and I can't wait to get home and play.

On Monday the painter is coming back to hopefully finish everything. He says that for going over the estimated time frame he's going to touch up some of our scuffed walls for free. I'm thinking that should only take an extra 4 days. 5, if his assistant doesn't show up.

tower of shoes

I'm definitely feeling like a home owner as jparks and I spent a large chunk of our long weekend working on various home projects. I painted and he elfa-tized our bedroom closet.

In order to add the new shelving he had to remove all of my shoes from the closet. He stacked the ones in boxes in another closet and dumped all of the ones not in boxes into a big pile. Normally I would have yelled at him for this, but I was too busy to care. I was also too busy to count my shoes and take a nice picture of them. Instead I present you with this:



I'm not certain how many pairs of shoes are in this pile and tower configuration, but I do know that this is not all of the shoes in the house. I swear, I'm going to count them this week. Scout's honor!

shoe count coming soon!

Did I sufficiently depress everyone? Probably not, I probably just depressed myself. Aw well, time for the cheering up!

I bet your wondering when I'm going to admit how many pairs of shoes I own. I'm wondering that myself. This weekend is the planned official shoe count and photo op. It's number one two three on my list of things to do. Along with painting, finishing the unpacking, adding more storage unit pieces to my closet, cleaning out my closet, figuring out why I'm having trouble uploading pictures, trapeze, and dinner with friends. hmm, that's a lot of stuff. But I promise to get those dang shoes counted.

I really wanted to wait until my shoes for the stripper class came in to do the count, but I think they might be awhile still. I won't link to them because they are really awesome and I want to post pictures of them myself. All I'll say is that they are red. Red stripper shoes make me happier than they should. Of course, I thought about getting these but realized I better wait until I turn pro. You've got to save something exciting for later.

2 years later

Today is the two year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. I'm not sure how to mark this day as I'm no longer in the city and some say that I turned tail and ran from the problems that followed the storm. On the other hand, I know folks that say I did the smart thing by leaving, that I was protecting myself and my future. I don't like to spend much time thinking about which group of folks are right, because I feel like a true New Orleans resident and the thought that I jumped ship hurts my heart.

Leaving was not an easy decision. And I know that, if it were possible, I would return to the city to do my part. I also know that jparks will hear none of this and has vowed that we will never live there again. He's not evil for saying this, just concerned for us. The truth is that the city has not recovered. Two years after being ripped apart, life is not back to normal for the majority of residents and the little bit of recovery that has happened is just waiting to get ripped apart again. Repairs to the levees and to the pump stations aren't enough to protect the city from another storm and the level of repairs that need to be made are too much for the city to take on alone. And sending aid seems low on the to do list for the government.

Today I was driving along 101 when I noticed a billboard asking people to help Free Vietnam. Right now the Gap wants us to support (Product)Red: the Global Fund. And everyone in Hollywood wants us to help Darfur. But who wants us to help New Orleans? Where are the billboards asking people to save a city within our own continental boundaries? Where is the clothing line that supports rebuilding the 9th Ward? This country is concerned with saving the world but could not care any less about saving one of it's own. Is this really the message we want to send to the rest of the world, especially since we've been saying for years that our goal in Iraq is to help them rebuild? I'm thinking it's not, but what do I know, I'm not in politics.

New Orleans deserves our country's attention. It deserves our support and help. It's a city worth saving. It's worth more than we are currently putting into it. Before Katrina the city had so much to offer; so many opportunities for its residents and for itself. Now people there have little hope and few are optimistic for their futures' or for the city's. And this is not the New Orleans I remember. This is the New Orleans that we need to work hard to make disappear.

And before I get ripped apart like a city by a hurricane (what, inappropriate?) for saying these things, I want to clarify that I know volunteers are in the city helping. Those people are amazing individuals for offering up their time and energy to help rebuild the city, a city most of them have never experienced before. They are one of the few reasons I have any hope that New Orleans will rise again. Thank you volunteers, your help has more of an impact on the residents and former residents of New Orleans than you will ever know.

We need to never forgot how amazing New Orleans was, how amazing it could be again, and how amazing its residents are for never giving up. We need to never forgot because that's the most painful thing we could do to New Orleans.

woohoo, a game!

Moving really makes you see exactly how much crap you own. Like jparks' crepe spreaders. Imported (by us) from Paris. That have never been used. Why do we own these? I don't know. But can you say you have authentic crepe spreaders from Paris? Of course not, and that's why we rule!

In jparks defense, the crepe spreaders are small and take up only a tiny part of a drawer in the kitchen. You want to know what's not tiny? What takes up way more than a tiny part of a kitchen drawer? My shoes. Dear god they are everywhere. For some reason they seemed less numerous in the apartment, maybe because they were partially in the closet, partially under the bed, and partially under the sofa. Here, all lined up (mostly) in boxes the number of pairs seems overwhelming.

So, in the spirit of whitneybee's now infamous picture, let's play a round of Guess How Many Pairs of Shoes I Own.

Here are some hints to aid you in your guesses:

I only managed to get two pairs of shoes from my house in New Orleans after the hurricane

This means I've only been on my shoe shopping spree for the past two years

I went on a shoe diet where I didn't buy shoes for 90 days

jparks counts flip flops as shoes

For awhile I averaged a pair of shoes a week

I have a couple of pairs that I love so much I bought them in brown and black

I really like shoes. Like a lot.

Guess away!

welcome to the neighborhood

I met one of my neighbors yesterday while I wearing a shirt with two unicorns humping on it. What a great way to make a first impression. I hope she didn't run off and tell the rest of the neighborhood that delinquents have moved in. I would hate to have to toilet paper everyone's porches to prove them right.

In other news, I have my stripper class today and I can't even begin to find words for how sexy it will be. This morning I couldn't find my razor so I didn't shave my legs. yay for built in leg warmers! And the studio suggests you wear "sexy work out clothes" and not bring shoes as they will provide you with stilettos. Seeing as how I don't even know what "sexy work out clothes" are, much less own any, I'm wearing gray capri workout pants and the previously mentioned humping unicorns shirt. I thought it would be appropriate. And maybe humping unicorns equals sexy? This will look amazing once I slip into a pair of four inch lucite heels. Fingers crossed that they have blinky lights in the heels!

Also, it's time to hit you kind folks up for more money. The race is quickly approaching and we haven't reached our goal yet. clicky clicky to save boobies.

moving moving moving, get them Parks moving

Do you know what stupid thing I did last night? I had a friend come and pack up my tv, tivo, modem, iMac, and any other items that could provide entertainment or background noise. Good lord what a boring night it was. I guess I could have put on my iPod but then I would have been walking around with headphones on and that's like inviting a serial killer to sneak up behind you, kill you, and wear your skin like a pretty pretty dress. And that just sounds so unappealing, although I would make a bitching dress.

Tonight is painting night at the new place, followed by cleaning lady/cable day, and then the biggie: Moving Day. All of which jparks is out of town for. Lucky bastard. No, I keed, I totally gave him permission to go out of town. Actually, I might have forced him to go. Trust me, it's easier if he's in another state for the move.


On a totally different, but slightly related, subject I signed up for an intro to being a stripper class. It's really an intro to sensual dance class, but poles and stilettos are involved so I think that qualifies it as a stripper class. This way, when jparks and I can't afford the mortgage, I can go work at a club and make the big bucks. My mom must be so proud right now.

(You know I'm not really going to strip, right? But I am really taking the class. You've got to try new things. And I figure pole dancing kinda blends well with aerial acrobatics)

feel free to call him Nugget now

Jparks and I were standing in the checkout at Target and I felt like being annoying. (what? He's annoying all the time, I get to be annoying every once in awhile)

"Can I have some beef steak nuggets? pleasssssse?"

"no"

"Whyyyyy? I really want beef steak nuggets. You never let me get anything good. All the other kids get to have beef steak nuggets."

"I've got a beef steak nu, uh, crap."

"hahaha, you've only got a nugget! A teeny tiny nugget!"

"dammit"

no sleep till Brooklyn

Hey, it's Thursday and I haven't had a good night sleep in uh, crap, I don't know since when. Maybe last Saturday? I'm tried, cranky, and my eyes are so swollen that they hurt. Did I mention that I'm cranky? Jparks can tell you all about it as he's been catching the full force of said crankiness.

Normally, when I have trouble sleeping it's the falling asleep part that's the hurdle. But I'm currently falling asleep with no problem. Head meets pillow and I'm out. But this lasts maybe an hour and then I'm awake. I can make myself fall back asleep, but then an hour or two later, I'm awake again. Fun! This continues all night which means that I'm pretty squirmy, and that makes Lily squirmy, and that wakes jparks up. We are quite the happy bunch right now.

If I couldn't fall asleep I would just take a couple of Tylenol PM's and be done with it. But for not staying asleep, I'm at a loss. I can't really pinpoint any thing that's waking me up. Last night the fan was making a noise that was bothering me. But if it had been loud it would have woken jparks (he's a crazy light sleeper) and he slept through it. So maybe, in my desperation to blame the lack of sleep on something, I was imagining it louder than it really was. The couple of nights before that I seem to remember having nightmares that woke me up, but I don't really feel like I can blame them. After waking up because of them once, I don't remember the nightmares continuing, therefore not to blame.

I told jparks that I was going to check into a hotel for a night, far away from a dog that freaks out at night and a husband that sleeps at weird angles. Right now a big king size hotel bed sounds delightful. oh god, the sleep. I want the sleep. Please give me the sleep.