you can dress me up, but don't try to take me out

Tomorrow is jparks' company's Holiday Party and I reluctantly bought a new dress for it. Why reluctantly? Because I had a dress that I've only worn twice, that would have been fine, but jparks decided he has seen me in it too much and I should get a new dress. And his preference was one that was not strapless and a-line, which is the basic design of every dress I own. (when you find a fit that works you tend to stick with it).

One day, while wandering around various stores, I found this dress:

It was cute, but not something I would normally buy, which I knew would make jparks happy. Empire waisted with cream trim on the arms, all cut from velvet, I knew I was going out on a limb when I brought the dress to the register but, dammit, I was determined to try something new!

I waited until I was home, in the privacy of my own apartment, to try it on. It turns out the dress fits, kinda. It fits in a way that makes me look knocked up. Or like I'm wearing a tent. And a whole troop of kids could camp out under me and have plenty of room to play campfire games and tell ghost stories. So basically, it does the exact opposite of what my tried and true strapless a-line cut dresses do, it makes me look pretty big.

So here's the dilemma, do I wear the dress and make jparks happy (he has seen me in it and hasn't commented one way or another about it) or do I dig through my closet and find an alternative?

At this point, since the party is tomorrow, I think I'm just going to wear it. It's got a little girl look about it, so I'm going tonight to hunt for some tights and patent leather, high heel mary janes to wear with it. And to complete the look I'm going have Lauren make me a little sign to wear that says "this dress is supposed to make me look pregnant"

Or maybe I'll tell everyone at the party that I am pregnant, and could they swing by the bar and grab me another martini, please?

save me from divorce

How are you saving me from divorce? By buying this for me:


I neeeed it. I waaaaant it. I am utterly and hopelessly in lurve with it. And if I buy it jparks is sure to divorce me immediately.

Don't get me wrong, it's not overly expensive (it's a little expensive, but not overly), and jparks won't understand or see my need for it. He'll say "You have enough cardigans and sweaters, you don't neeeed that one too."

But he'll be so wrong. And every night I spend without it in my closet I'll cry a single, sad tear.

So come on, click here and buy me this sweater in a size medium. Because you don't want to see me get divorced over something so trivial, do you?

hairy situation

Can we talk about my unshaven legs for a minute? Yes? Great!

I can't remember the last time I shaved my legs. I know it's been a while but the exact date of the last shaving eludes me. Maybe it was when we went to DisneyWorld, so the end of October. There is no reason why I've held out on shaving them, just a combination of laziness and laziness. I have to wake up an extra 15 minutes early to shave and 15 minutes is a lifetime when we are talking about sleep.

But its been so long since I last shaved that if I were to shave my legs in the morning I would easily have to wake up an extra 45(!) minutes early. No way in hell is that happening. Why 45 minutes? I'm assuming the thick leg hair would be too much for a normal razor and I would have to use jparks' head shaver first to thin the field. And then chase that with my regular razor. Hmmm, is 45 minutes even going to be enough time?

I could just shave at night, but then I've got stubble in the morning and I might as well not shaved. (this is actually not true at all, I shave and don't have stubble for a few days. I'm just to lazy to shave at night)

I guess I'm lucky because jparks doesn't care much about the length of hair on my legs. I think as long as it's shorter than his he's okay with it. And mostly I wear pants to work and that contains the hair so my coworkers aren't scared. If I have to wear a skirt (as I'm doing today) I wear knee high boots and make sure the skirt and boots overlap.

I think I'll have to break down and shave on Friday for jparks' company's Holiday Party. I can't show up in a super cute cocktail dress with hairy legs. That would just ruin the look.

saying thanks

Jparks and I are home from NOLA and as a thank you for letting us stay with him, we left Jeremy, jparks' brother, some new man panties. And took all of his boxers back with us to California. And boy, are those man panties something special. We left an assortment in lavenders, pinks, neon yellows, oranges, and teals. Some had unicorns on them, some rainbow colored butterflies, and some had cute sayings like "I love my mom" or "Just call me tiny" right across the crotch.

Man, when Jeremy goes to get dressed in the morning and finds his new man panties he is going to be sooo grateful. I bet he won't even be able to come up with words for how happy he is.

i'm ready to go home

...because waiting for me at home are my Moo Cards. I'm tragically unhip since I'm currently without Moo Cards. oh to be cool, it's all I ask for out of life.

I'm also ready to go because I'm tired. Being here has worn me out more than our trip to Disney. It's been a constant go go go of visiting friends, seeing my grandfather in the hospital, and hanging out with family. I'm sure last night's trip to the Quarter, where I consumed more alcohol in one night than I have in the past six months, has nothing to do with me being completely and utterly pooped.

I'm so tired that jparks has had to resort to other women for loving. And if I'm going to be perfectly honest, his new women are real bitches.

i was supposed to take pictures

One of the things I wanted to do while in NOLA was walk around town and take pictures. Uptown, City Park, the French Quarter, all places I wanted to visit. So far I've been Uptown, but the only pictures I took were these:



Today we are going to the LA Renaissance Festival and, while I'm sure I'll take plenty of pictures there, they won't be of things I think are uniquely New Orleans. I have enjoyed everything I've done, nothing beats talking with friends about shoving frozen Twinkies up your loved one's butt, but maybe next time I visit I need to come without a to do list.

just say no to drugs!

Last night Bill gave my niece and nephew the best worst coloring book ever created.

Look kids you get to color some marijuana, a crack pipe, and a razor blade! Awesome!

Seriously, what kid would not want to color this?

a day in the life

Happy Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for having the day off from making a post. What? I have to make a post? Damn, you people are slave drivers.

A few days ago I saw this on dsandler.org and decided that I had to do it as well. The pictures were taken on Tuesday, the last day I worked this week. Some pictures are on the blurry side, as I was using my camera phone some hours. (read as: I was too lazy to dig around under my desk and get out the D80)


9am: I overslept and am only leaving for work, rather than actually being at work on time.


10am: It was my boss' turn to bring coffee and he didn't show up with it until 10. We are going to need to discuss this arrangement if he wants to keep trading off days.


11am: Looky, I went to a secretive, private, exclusive establishment known as our mailbox.


noon: Getting my NaBloPoMo post for today completed.


1pm: I went to Stanford mall during my lunch. yay for shopping during the work day.


2pm: Time to check my email and to have another cup of coffee. Iced this time.


3pm: I had to run out to my car and stop to take pictures of myself. You know, because I'm so pretty.


4pm: I had just finished a phone call to one of our venues to discuss all the problems we've been having with service. Is it really too much to ask for juggling albino midgets, riding on unicorns to be in our suite for every event? I think not.


5pm: Stopping to get dinner, which was a mistake as every person in the South Bay Area was shopping for Thanksgiving


6pm: Dinnertime. The chicken doesn't look very appealing, but it was tasty.


This was fun, maybe we'll do it again soon.

to do list, NOLA edition

Since I'm flying out of San Jose at 4:30 in the morning, I'm again, pre-writing my post for the day.

I'm heading home to NOLA and in honor of that I'm creating my to do list while there:

1. see family (duh)
2. see friends (again, duh)
3. eat red beans and rice
4. eat gumbo
5. eat beignets
6. go to a Saints game (I know this is impossible since the whole season is sold out, but darn it, I want to go to a game)
7. drink iced coffee from PJ's
8. drink iced coffee from CC's (NOLA sure does love its two letter coffeehouses)
9. visit Magazine Street
10. eat a praline
11. eat at Slice
12. go shopping at Chi-wa-wa-ga-ga (small store for dinky dogs)
13. take a ton of pictures

So, apparently I'm going to be eating a lot while I'm home. hmph.

shoes a'plenty

Today jparks and I counted the number of pairs of shoes I have. It's bad. Really really bad.

On Sunday I went to the Container Store and bought some more of their shoe boxes. My shoes boxes now stack up to the bottom of my clothing. And my clothing hangs about 3 1/2 feet off the ground.

I've vowed to not buy anymore pairs of shoes until the end of the year, but I see now I'm going to have to break that vow as I need shoes to go with the dress I'm wearing to jparks' company holiday party. I figured I would even out buying this new pair by ebaying a few pairs I currently own. But it seems there are maybe only one or two pairs I can actually imagine parting with. I'm pretty sure I need to get rid of more than that to balance out my next shoe purchase. Unless I can find a cheaper pair than the ones I am currently ohhing and ahhhing over.

In case you're wondering, I'm up to 52 pairs of shoes. Doesn't seem like a lot? Remember, 1 year and 2 months ago I lost all my shoes, except for 2 pairs. So yeah, I am ready to admit that I have a problem.

clothes for sale!

The other day jparks mentioned that maybe I should go through my closet and get rid of some of the things I don't wear. My face must have fallen into a look of pure horror because he immediately assured me that he knows I have things in there that he never sees me wearing.

Normally when it's time to purge the closet, I just pile everything together and bring it to Goodwill, but recently some friends were discussing selling clothes on ebay and thought I might give that a try. So last night I laid some shirts on the kitchen floor and took pictures of each one. I then did the same thing for some pants and skirts. It turns out photographing clothing on your kitchen floor is harder than I thought. Most of the pictures had my shadow in them, or Tangi appeared in the corner. I'll just have to make it clear in the item description that the cat is not included. Or can be included for the right price.

After getting the pictures to come out halfway decent I realized I had another hurdle to overcome: pricing. Most of the things I'm selling are nice, normally expensive things. Shirts from Eddie Bauer, American Eagle, pants from Ann Taylor Loft and skirts from the Gap. I don't want to overcharge, but at the same time I don't want to sell stuff for $1.00. The one shirt I have listed (which I shouldn't have done, because the auction ends while I'm in NOLA, making it impossible for me to ship the item out quickly. ooops) has a starting bid of $3.00. I don't think that's too high, but no one has bid on it yet, so maybe it should be lower. Or maybe I just did such a lame job describing the shirt no one thinks enough of it to place a bid. Or maybe I described the shirt just fine, but it's too ugly for anyone but me to buy. Or maybe people do want to buy it, but they are waiting until the very last minute to start bidding and this will escalate into a huge bidding war and the shirt will end up selling for way more than I paid for it.

This selling stuff on ebay is hard. My friends made it sound easy, but now I see that either they are liars, or I'm a moron. Damn, I hate having it pointed out that I'm a moron.

I'm lovin' it

Today I treated myself to a Happy Meal for lunch. I know I'm a bit out of the Happy Meal's target audience, but they really are the perfect McDonald's selection. It's not so big that I feel all greasy and disgusting afterwards, but still enough food to fill me up. Plus, you get a toy!

What, you don't see the appeal of a toy? I find that Happy Meal toys are (mostly) the perfect thing to take pictures of. You can pose them in all kinds of stupid ways and they don't complain. You can take a million shots of the same pose and they won't get whiny about being tired.

By the time I got home tonight with my new toy, the sun was setting and it was almost too dark to take pictures. Most of the ones I took came out really blurry but I did have one where I placed the camera on the ground and got a halfway clear shot. Maybe tomorrow I'll get to take Sid out for another photo shoot.

I don't think I have a post in me

I'm not particularly feeling like blogging today. I guess I just want to relax and enjoy my weekend without having to find something creative to say.

I could tell you about how I went to the Dixie Chicks concert last night and found out that I don't mind them as much as I thought I did. Or I could tell you how jparks is out of town this weekend and my goal is to clean the house, bring some clothes to Goodwill, and put away the huge pile of shoes that currently live on the bedroom floor. Or I could tell you how I saw this on dsandler.org and thought "I need to do that." Or I could tell you how I'm going to my first hockey game tonight and will be in a fabulous suite.

But I'm just not feeling like it. Call me lazy, but I need a day off from NaBloPoMo. Or two considering I really phoned it in yesterday.

you know what I love?

I love that 2 people got to my blog when they searched for "nyquil shits".

There were some other good searches that led to me, but that was by far my favorite.

sew close to being done

Remember my sewing class? Remember the cute, easy clutch everyone was going to get for Christmas? I'll be lucky if I can have one completed anytime soon, much less Christmas gifts for all. It turns out I picked a really bad pattern with really bad instructions. Our instructor told me I get a medal if I complete the clutch. I'm not holding my breath for that damn metal.

This is eventually going to be the strap that keeps my clutch closed:


All I have left to do is attach the guts of the clutch (check it out, I made a pocket):


To this, the outside of the clutch:


As much as I dread going to class I am actually thinking of buying a sewing machine. Maybe for Christmas next year everyone will get a cute clutch. Because, you know, by then I'll have become a sewing master.

halfway done!

Here we are halfway done with this stupid NaBloPoMo and I'm still going strong. Is it weird or wrong that every time I use the Randomizer and discover a blog where someone missed a day, I want to report them to Fussy, great leader of NaBloPoMo, protector of our sacred month of posting. I want them shamed and banned from playing our reindeer games. I mentally shake a finger at them. But I'm not mean enough to actually report folks.

I'm so not mean that yesterday when a moron parked so close to me at work that I had to enter my car through the passenger side door, I decided to write him a note expressing my gratitude for this. I called this person an idiot and said just how much I appreciated him parking on top of my car, when the rest of the lot was empty. I put said note on his windshield and went to grab dinner. While at dinner I decided that I needed to go back and get the note because it was really rude of me to leave it. (never mind that it was rude of the moron to park that close to me) When I got back to the lot the guy was gone. Which means he got my note and I felt really badly all night. And into today. And I'll still feel baldy about it tomorrow. And for a while after that. Stupid guilt.

I could only get squeeze between the cars sideways and the door would only open a little bit, not nearly enough for me to fit in:


And see how empty the lot was! He could have parked at least one spot over:

trying to cut the cord

Since the hurricane I've had a hard time adjusting to the fact that I no longer live in New Orleans. I pause when people ask me where I'm from; do they mean where do I currently live, or do they know I'm not local and want to know where I came from? The past few times I've been asked this question I just stood there with my mouth open, puddle of drool gathering around my feet. People assumed I was from Mississippi, based on that puddle of drool and my inability to answer a simple question.

I've slowly started to accept that in certain ways California is home. I voted here, I've got a CA driver's license, and I drive a yuppie car. I'm very Californian in those aspects.

But in other ways I'm having trouble becoming Californian. Whenever jparks mentions buying a house here, I clam up and won't even discuss it with him. I think that some part of me isn't ready to own property in this ridiculously over-priced area. Or maybe it's just that as long as we don't own property here we can leave at any time; head back to a land below sea level where I feel more comfortable.

Right now we think nothing of heading back to NOLA for the holidays. But once we have kids, flying halfway across the country will no longer be an easy feat and holidays will have to be spent here. But without Celebration in the Oaks, Cajun Night Before Christmas, and Benny Grunch and the Bunch I'm not sure how the holidays will ever feel right.

And at what point in time do I need to stop feeling like it's my right to have time off of work for Mardi Gras? When will I stop feeling like something is not right if once a year I don't stand in the middle of a street with a beer in one hand, cold Popeye's chicken in the other, and yell at men on floats to throw me some long beads?

I guess what I'm wondering is how long do you have to be gone from a place before you stop thinking of it as home? I need to know so that just a day before I hit that amount of time I can move back to NOLA.

the drugs have failed me

Remember when I thought I was getting sick? And that mean doctor told me to just take over the counter drugs and drink lots of water? Well, he's a moron.

I've been so hopped up on various cold medicines that I woke up on Saturday morning and wandered around my apartment wondering what had happened to the past week. I knew I had done things, but they seemed really distant and vague. I had to check my blog to make sure I had been posting all week. After confirming I hadn't slept thought the past week I felt a little better, a little more human.

The thing about taking all of the OTC drugs was that none of them were making me feel better. Yeah, Nyquil knocked me out and I slept, but it didn't make my congestion budge. The Mucinex didn't make the mucus form a conga line and dance out of my chest the way the commercial promised. The Sudafed would have been better used if I had made a meth lab instead of taking it as directed.

And then last night I started feeling worse than I had all week. The sinus congestion had become so severe that I felt like I had been hit in the face with a baseball bat. And then this morning the snot started. The green snot, which screams "Ha, you have an infection and can't get to the doctor today!" The snot that goes shooting across the room when I sneeze. The snot that makes me clutch a Kleenex so tightly it's shredded in my hands before I can ever use it.

When I get sick, it's not a small thing that shall pass with a little chicken soup and some rest. No, when I get sick, it's a long drawn out illness that makes me scared to venture out in public for fear I might sneeze and drown people in the sea of snot that I'm sure to produce. It's an illness that comes with a cough so loud and menacing people run from me, scared I'll hack my lung up onto their shoes.

I have another doctor appointment tomorrow morning, with my normal doctor. I have faith he'll give me some drugs to kick this infection onto its ass.

croc attack

Man, aren't those croc shoes ugly? Who in the hell wants to wear them?

Me! Me! Me! I want to wear them. I like to think of them as my winter flip flops. Lily needs to go out and it's too cold for flip flops? Crocs! Need to run to the store at the front of our complex? Crocs! Need some shoes so ugly jparks cringes every time he sees them? Crocs!

I'm now in love with my new ugly shoes. (they're pink. a light pink thanks to some white swirled in) Sorry croc haters, I'm now converted.



Did I mention jparks told me I could order a pair for him? Surely that is a sign of the coming apocalypse.

early to bed, early to rise

Am I the only one that is getting really thrown off by this getting dark early thing? Tonight I thought "Sheesh, it sure is late, what am I doing out?" And then I looked at the clock and saw that it was only 6:30pm, and felt like a fool for thinking it was much later.

The other thing is since I always assume it's MUCH later than it actually is, I'm ready for bed by 8pm. Which could explain why I keep waking up at 5:30am. Who knew the setting and rising of the sun could affect me this much.

the reason I don't have people over

I have a confession that my Mom will read and think "I knew she would grow to be that kind of person."

My apartment is a mess. It's such a mess that a maid would walk in, disappear into the abyss of crap all over the floor, and never been heard from again. Well, that's assuming the maid could even get in the door.

Since we got home from vacation the apartment has gone from mostly clean to every closet and cabinet exploded and their contents landed on the floor. My hallway looks like a graveyard of bras, they're all thrown of the floor, waiting for me to stumble out of bed one morning, hook my foot in a strap, trip, and give myself another concussion. The kitchen in a wasteland of empty soda cans waiting to be carried down to the recycling bin. The bathroom is home to a hairball that's so big, I thought it was one of my pets and tried to pet it the other day.

I bet you're wondering why I just don't clean up. Why I don't just hunker down and get it over with. If it only were that easy. Life keeps getting in the way of me cleaning. Sewing class on Tuesday night. Book group Wednesday. Warriors game last night. Book signing tonight. Maybe on Saturday I'll have time. Maybe.

i am such a liar

You remember when I said that was the end of the Disney pictures the other day? I totally lied to you. My bad. But I promise you want to see these.

Our first day in Disney I was amazed by some of the outfits people were wearing. Maybe I'm a prude, but I would never leave the house in some of the shorts (were they even shorts or were they just denim panties?) people were wearing. Or worse yet, go to the Magic Kingdom with my 14 year-old daughter dressed like a whore. Hmph, I sound like a grandma, oh well.

I'm vowing here and now, in front of all you readers, that when I have kids I refuse to raise skanks. I'll make fun of skanks, teach my kids to make fun of skanks, but I will not raise skanks.

After a day of these outfits I decided that the next day I would take pictures of every horrible outfit I saw. These are the pictures I took.

Chick on the left, you have cottage cheese legs. Please stop spending money getting your nails done and buy some real shorts. Thank you. (the best part about this assignment was I didn't tell anyone else what I was doing and still when my sister-in-law saw this girl she turned to me and said "You got that picture, right?" She just knew that this bit of skankyness had to be documented)


Sweetie, isn't that metal bench cold on your ass since you've hiked that skirt up? Just take a moment and imagine the view people got when they walked up the bleacher stairs, because at one point she uncrossed her legs.


This picture came out disappointing. She was wearing a yellow thong under this white skirt. YELLOW.


I wanted jparks to go ask if she for $5 would do a pole dance, but since her Dad was right next to her I didn't think it was the best idea. Please check out the pockets on the back of these shorts. Yeah, the shorts are so short they are only like half pockets. You know, cuz full pockets are sooo frumpy.


I'm so confused. The torn, raggety shorts with a rope belt say redneck, but the backless shirt says slut.


I have seriously saved the best for last. It's so good, you should really click here to view it at orginial size. Brace yourself.

Let me point out some things to look for: scary long fake nails, dangling jeweled navel ring, bare stomach, arm tattoo of baby daddy's name, flip flops, which just make her outfit complete.



After I took these I saw many many many other horrible outfits, but I found this assignment too tiring. If I kept taking pictures of the clothes I would not have taken pictures of anything else or been able to ride any rides.

I'll know God reads my blog if this happens

Now that Brit has finally signed up for one of them fancy divorce things from K-Fed, I can only hope and pray that Justin Timberlake leaves Cameron Diaz, rides in on his white horse, marries Britney, and becomes the father that those two babies deserve.

I'm sorry Cameron, but I think you look like E.T. in a blonde wig and everyone knows Justin has always had feelings for Brit. It's their destiny to be together, you've just been the rebound woman all this time. I'm sorry to be the person that you hear this from, but someone had to give you a warning of what's to come. You can try to make Justin jealous after he dumps you by dating other people (hey, I hear K-Fed's available) but don't expect it to work, Brit and Justin are the real thing. Their love is a classic love, a beautiful love deeply rooted in all things good and pure like the Mickey Mouse Club and unicorns.

If Kirstie Alley can do it, so can I

Now that I'm back from vacation it's time to face reality and admit that I need to go on a diet. I've been avoiding this subject for a while because who wants to admit that they're carrying a few extra pounds, but one thing happened on vacation and it pushed me to see the truth. Abby, as cute as could be (except for in that picture I linked to. There she is screaming bloody murder because, dear god don't say it, we took her to Disney World and made her go see a show! Such horrible people we are, we should be tortured.) walked up to me, rubbed my belly, and asked if I was having a baby.

A moment after Abby did this I laid down on the cobblestone streets of Disney and died as Cinderella and Snow White pranced around me singing about how great it is to be a size 4. Skinny bitches. It was the smell of freshly roasted turkey legs that brought me back to life.


Now that I'm back home it's time to take action. Diet, diet, diet, but which diet to pick?

Jparks favors South Beach because you have a list and you eat anything on that list you want. If it's not on the list, you don't eat it. Simple, right? Except for the part about how you want certain things like you've never wanted them before just because now you can't have them. Beets, not on the list, but you want some. You want some so badly you would consider selling off family heirlooms to get a beet salad. Good bye Grandma's pearls, hello beets! My other complaint with South Beach is that I've never made it through the first two week phase without getting sick. I'm sure that I'm missing vital vitamins and nutrients by only eating things on the list, but who needs to be healthy if you're skinny? Look at Nicole Richie, she's doing fine.

Next diet up is Weight Watchers. Yes, I know Weight Watchers is a life style change and not a diet, blah blah blah. I'm going to call it a diet because that's easier to type than life style change. With WW you have two options: meetings or online. Online is great because you have access to tons of advice, recipes, and info that when you attend meeting you can't use. But with online WW you have no one but yourself to be accountable to. No one but you has to see the scale. At meeting you don't have all the cool online features, but you do have many other sets of eyes to watch you weigh in every week and notice if you're not slimming down. But with the meetings you actually have to go to the meetings, which means you have to find time to get there and spend an hour with women you don't know talking about being fat. (I don't honestly know what happens at meeting, the only experience I have with them is a Sex and the City episode where Miranda joins WW and meets the Over Eater) That, in itself, seems like a boatload of work.

Of course I could always just try and watch what I eat and workout more often. But really without limitations I'll eat okay one day and then horribly the next. I need boundaries, limits, rules. Rules, glorious rules! And whatever diet I finally decide on I'll workout while I do it. I know that cardio is the key to weight lose, even if I hate to admit it.

Now excuse me, I'm going to grab a cookie carrot from the fridge.

the last of the Disney pics

I promise this is the last of the Disney pictures. Unless you want more. I mean, I only took about 700 pictures; I could keep going down this dark road. Disney World pictures from now until the end of time.

Or maybe I'll just stop after this post.

According to Disney dinosaurs have nipples, making them mammals. Weird.


This was a dessert from Norway in Epcot. It turns out jparks and I liked Norway a lot and think we might need to visit there soon.


The kids wore jparks out just about as much as they wore themselves out.


Here's jparks lifting the baby to show it to the Gods before we sacrifice her. You've got to make sure the Gods like the sacrifice before you just go killing babies.


Yeah, the baby is cute and all but what the hell do you do when they are this young (2 weeks old)? Me, I make yucky faces, mainly to hide the fact that I'm terrified I'll break it him.


Looky, it's my new friends and me.


During the Stars and Motor Cars Parade at Disney MGM Studios the green Power Ranger stopped right in front of me and posed. I wasn't going to take a picture of him, but I felt so badly that he posed and all, well I felt like I kinda had to.

drinking lots of fluids

I figured out that the blahness yesterday was due to illness. I went to the Urgent Care Clinic this morning and found out it's not a bacterial infection, so no antibiotics needed. It's a viral invasion, so lots of over the counter drugs, fluids, and rest were prescribed.

Now the drugs and fluids are not a problem but rest, well rest is something that's unheard of when married to jparks. He tries to let me rest and relax but it just doesn't work. Today my plan is to lay on the couch, watch tv, and not do anything. Jparks has planned to try to keep to himself today, but I sense the breaking point coming soon. He's played on the computer, shuffled his game cards, and watched tv on and off, there's not much left for him to do but to come over here and annoy me for attention. I guess I should rest while I can. (I can guarantee that as soon as he reads this he'll come over and annoy me for saying he's annoying. I guess I'm creating my own destiny.)

On another note the doctor at the Urgent Care Clinic was not the best doctor I've ever had. I have a history of finding doctors that lack in people skills and this guy was no different. After performing the exam he told me I had a viral infection and there was no reason for me to come to the clinic. Thanks doc, I feel like crap, I had no idea this didn't require antibiotics so I came to you for help. My bad. But after rattling off the list of OTC's I needed to buy, the doctor said "It's best to take all of the medicines I suggested because if you don't it could turn into a bacterial infection and you would need a prescription." Oh, wait, if I don't take your advice then I might need a prescription? Your advice that I had to come here to get? But I thought I didn't need to come to the clinic for this. Stupid asshat doctor.

it's been one of those days

Today was our first day back from vacation and I don't know if I have post-vacation blues, PMS, or am just starting to get sick (there was a guy in the row behind us on the plane that kept coughing, snotting, and doing that gross thing people do when they snort to rake the snot from their throats and hack it up. I could see the germs floating in the air. I've since taken about 3 Airborne tablets in the hopes that I won't catch his disease, but I'm starting to think it's not helping) but today I've been feeling a little blah.

I tried to remedy this with a trip to the post office to collect our week's worth of mail, but the post office was closed. I then traveled to the mall to visit the new Lush that was supposed to open in October. I figured I would grab a few bath treats and that would help brighten my mood, but apparently I was confused and "Opening in October" means opening in November, or whenever the hell we get around to it. I then went to Banana Republic, Old Navy, the Gap, and Ann Taylor Loft only to discover that none of them had a single item that caught my attention. Eddie Bauer, also known as the store for 45 year-old women and lesbians, did have some skirts I liked, which depressed me far more than the other stores not having anything.

After that much disappointment I knew I needed a surefire pick me up. So I drove home, grabbed jparks, and we went to see Borat. A couple hours of extreme laughing fits later, I still feel kinda down, but at least I was able to laugh through some of the blues.

there's no place like home

Oh god, is this vacation over yet?

just a short little post

Part of NaBloPoMo is delurking from blogs and actually making comments so posters, like myself, can feel loved. Since it's 6:30 in the morning and I'm short on time for posting today, I'm going to make a statement and then you're going to delurk and finish a statement.

My statement: If I were super rich I would build a soda fountain in my house.

Your statement: If I were super rich I would...

happy NaBloPoMo

All right folks, let the record show that it's November 1st and I’m now making my first NaBloPoMo post. Except I’m tired. Really really tired. So, my post is going to be in the form of pictures because it’s too much work to try to be witty when you’re this freaking tired. It’s even too much work to string together sentences that are coherent and fit with one another. Jparks burped in my general direction and it stunk. See, can’t make my mind wrap around any one subject. Frozen lemonade eaten too quickly gives you brain freeze, which sucks.

Enjoy.

Kids cry a lot. And that gives me a headache. While kids are fun, headaches are not.


I wish I had a pink car with whitewall tires with purple stripes.


Sulley from Monsters, Inc might be my new favorite character.


I really liked Disney-M.G.M. Studios.


jparks carrying a baby is kinda sexy. Maybe I can deal with all the crying after all.


I loved this billboard.


The girls were so cute when we took them trick-or-treating at the Magic Kingdom.