Entitled.

I have 5 weeks left of this pregnancy business. I don't care for pregnancy, have I mentioned that before? But the weird thing, the further along I get, the bigger I get, the more swollen I get, the more comfortable I am. The early months of back ache, heartburn and emotions have disappeared a bit. I am much more comfortable all around. I am sleeping better, have more energy. Which is really odd since I am about the size of a double wide.

I am terrified of actually having my kid. Not of labor, the miserable pain, but of having a kid to care for. Surrendering myself for what the kid wants - demands. Getting up every 2 hours to feed this screaming shitting machine that can't explain why it isn't happy. Not being able to just take off at a moment's notice. Not being able to poop alone. Wait. I have pets, I haven't done that for years.

Beyond the extra expense that a child brings. Holy cow! Daycare! I am too lazy to get off my butt and actually hunt down someone to take care of my kid so far. But from the stories I have heard from folks in this area, daycare is gonna run us between $800-$1,200 per month. Yea.

Another big cost I am fearful about is the new things I have pursued since becoming a living breathing house.

Pedicures and maid service.

Dude.

I am so glad I haven't partaken of these magical things before. I have saved myself a fortune.

I am in love.

I need a live-in pedicuring, housecleaning ass wiper now.

Because I really don't know if I can give up these wonderful treatments after the babe is here.

Pedicures. So nice. A bit of time to just relax and let someone else do the dirty work of making my toes look sweet and tasty.

Housecleaning? Wow, what is there to even say. Someone else comes in and scrubs my toilet for me. Scrubs down my glass shower and garden tub? Dusts the baseboards? Holy crap. I love having a wife of my very own!!

But. For a maid to come once a month and for a monthly pedicure, I am looking at just over $100. Ouch. That ain't cheap. And I am not sure I can justify those expenditures once I am able to bend over and paint my own toes and scrub my own toilet again.

And that, that right there makes me cross my legs even tighter and want to keep this baby cooking for a few more years.

The Post Where I Show That I Am Absolutely Nucking Futs

The most sure-fire way to ensure I will not accomplish something is to tell people that I will do it.

Logically, the exact opposite would occur. I would feel responsible to complete the project, go to the whatever, buy the widget, see the movie, write the blog post. However, in reality, if I tell you I will do something, I won’t do it.

Several weeks back, I said that I had a post to write about the thrills of homeownership. Of course, I never wrote it.

However, due to my new to-do listing, I keep being confronted by the fact that I owe the internets a blog post regarding the big hole in my backyard. I have pictures of it. I have thoughts and angry funny comments stewing in my brain, yet my stubborn side doesn’t want to put it down on paper.

Instead, let’s talk about this to-do list project.

First off, I am a major stress-aholic.

I take on way too many things and then freak out about them.

If my home, life, car, relationship, pets, clothes, backyard, aren’t in tip top shape, I worry about them.

If there is something I can worry about, I will.

I always have things on my mind. Things I MUST COMPLETE NOW OR DIE. Things I MUST CLEAN OR DIE. Things I MUST DO TO SLEEP AT NIGHT OR DIE.

I may be a bit psychotic. (If Not Craig is reading, I would appreciate your silence. K.Thx.Bai.)

I also read a lot of blogs. And some of those blogs frequently mention, Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity. A book - slash - way of organizing - slash - living by David Allen.

Recently, the stress of buying a home, planning a wedding, having a puppy that likes to destroy furniture, clothing and various cleaning implements all while peeing on my brand new floors 10 times a day, became a bit much for me. I decided to check out the book.

Of course, like any internet addict would do, I also googled “GTD” as it is known by its followers (yea, fo realz, I swear it has a cult following.) and read many, many things about it.

I then began to use one of the most highly recommended applications.

Remember The Milk: this is an online to-do list. You can email to-do’s to the list, you can have daily reminders emailed to you, you can set the tasks to recur on whatever frequency you so desire, you can postpone, you can organize your to-do’s into all sorts of lists. It is an incredibly useful tool.


I began using RTM like mad. Adding all sorts of tasks. Things big like “Plan a wedding” and things small like “Watch Glenn Beck 1/19 on Fox” Important events like changing the air filters in my house and fertilizing the lawn and getting the dog his shots. The ever-critical items like dusting the tops of my kitchen cabinets. I have been adding huge tasks and ridiculous minutiae to my RTM page.

Then, as is my modus operandi, I worried that maybe I wasn’t listing all the things I needed to remember. I thought of a ton of things while driving home from work. What about those tasks?

The point of GTD [for die-hard GTD’ers, I am a newbie, so I will be oversimplifying I am sure (for non-GTD’ers, see it is a cult – I am fearful of being caught and exposed for my lack of GTDing-ness.)] is to get things out of your head and onto a list of action items, any little task, idea, desire, needs to be captured so it is not swimming in your brain, making you panic at the thought of forgetting the thought. So before I even finished the first chapter of GTD, I thought I was going to be a big failure because I wasn’t capturing the items that happened to occur to me when I was over 2.5 feet from a computer (which only occurs during my commute, because I have an illness.)

In order to stop the panic attacks, I searched for something to capture these driving induced to-do’s and I found Reqall. Which may very well be 100x greater than sliced bread AND New Kids on the Block combined.

You call ReQall. And speak, tell them what is worrying you, what amazing task you must accomplish, like “Look for Yoda’s vet records and ensure that she will not die due to being vaccinated 10 days late.” Then Reqall transcribes what you said and emails it to you, so you can add it to your to-do list.

I know I am sounding like such a freak already, but I swear, this is a true story. One night I got home and checked my email to find 10 Reqall messages from myself. Ya’ll, I live 20 miles from my office. I apparently called in tasks every 2 miles.

The super awesome added bonus to Reqall is that if you don’t speak clearly, or have an accent, or a static-y connection, Reqall provides built in entertainment. Apparently, I need to write a blog post on the poll on the arts and remember to take TV dinner store tomorrow.

All in all, this freakish behavior of mine is getting my life organized, my head is feeling less full of stress and garbage and overall worry about ensuring that I check the whirlpool tub's shutoff system three months from now.

I haven’t instituted most of the GTD actions, primarily, because I haven’t read more than half the book yet. However, perhaps, the action of reading about organizing my life, has created a calm in me. Simply getting all the craziness out of my head and into a nice little program that I can check at work and at home, at 3:00 AM and 3:00 PM, has helped me chill a bit.

I will keep you posted on how I do with GTD in the future. If I join the cult and if they have a cool handshake or maybe robes. And by saying I will keep you posted, I mean you will never hear me talk about this again.

Girl Schmirl or The Pugilist (Because I Really Wanted to Use That Word Somewhere)

I am not a girlie girl. I am pretty close to the opposite of one. From what I remember, it has always been this way, which given my upbringing, is odd. I grew up with a sister, my best friends were 3 girls, one of which had a sibling – a girl. There were no boys around when I was growing up, until, of course, they were an object of lust.

For some reason, these girls, my 3 best friends, my sister, and my friend’s sister, I would hesitate to call any of us anything other than tomboys.

Sure, we played with dolls, had a list of boys that we thought were cute, with some convoluted system of rating said cuteness (K – do you have these anymore? Because that – total blog fodder), took home ec, sewed, cooked, etc. and so forth.

Even though now, I won’t go anywhere without painted toenails and lipsticked lips, these are probably the only things that make me a girly girl. If there was a club or an organization of girlness, I would be on probation all the time. Or more likely, banned for life.

For example:

I prefer steak and potatoes to … well anything.

I have had one pedicure in my life, and that was only because the wedding party I was in, all got pedicures. Which just as an aside, the bride, just to point out the type of girls I get involved with, announced loudly while we were getting ready that she needed to go to the bathroom. #2. And she went #2 in her wedding dress. I am pretty sure that she is quite proud of this to this very day. She probably farted really loud walking down the aisle and blamed someone else, too. I know there is a video with her belching into the camera extremely loudly. Again, in her wedding dress. I love that girl.

I have never had a professional massage. I despise chocolate. I hate diamonds.

Friday night, I could have watched either While You Were Sleeping or Pulp Fiction. No way in hell that this was even a contest. Pulp Fiction, even though I have seen it 72,821 times. While You Were Sleeping? I don’t believe I have ever seen it. Nor do I have any desire to do so.

I do have a couple girly friends. Ok, one. She lives in another state – (not Kaytabug). This friend was wishing that we lived in the same area the other day. She commented that if we were in the same city, she would like to go have some coffee and then go see Mamma Mia.

I am not a good friend.

Because I could not stop myself from immediately busting out laughing. Um, Mamma Mia? Do you even know who I am? I would rather go see Batman, X-Files, Step-Brothers, Hellboy or even Journey to the Center of the Earth. Honestly, if I had to choose between Death Race and Mamma Mia? The previews for Death Race make me want to vomit and then fling the vomit at the screen, it is so bad. But if I had to choose between that stupid flick and Mamma Mia, I think I would choose Death Race. At least people would die in Death Race.

Most of the time, my girliness or lack thereof, isn’t on my mind, or considered in any sort of fashion, but between the above movie discussion and my day yesterday, I was quite intrigued by my failure as a chick. Intrigued enough to actually sit and write a post which is something that I have really, really sucked at recently. Although if you knew how exciting my life has been recently, you would so totally forgive me.

Yesterday, we went to a Gun Show. And I totally enjoyed it. And then we went to a friend’s house where they have 2 TV’s. I had a choice between hanging out with the wife watching old X-File episodes(which is a hell of a lot better than any other potential chick watching item) and with the guys and the TV with the PPV boxing.

You know what I chose, of course you do, we are cool like that.

Rhetorical Thought Patterns

I need to start carrying a voice recorder with me. I have some amazingly funny thoughts. Yet I never get them written down and when I remember, hey, you had some unbelievable hilarious stuff to tell the internets, it never fails, my memory falls short.

Yesterday, I had numerous instances like that. There were some very funny things to tell ya’ll about my trip to the downtown grocery store. The one where you park beneath it and you ride an elevator to get to it.

And the bus barn? Or bus stop? Oh wait, terminal. Greyhound has a huge terminal (that is right, right?) in downtown Houston. This area is not for the suburbanite, non-city dweller, not used to seeing people peeing into the gutter. The area frightens me sometimes, me, the one with a crack house on the corner of her street (it is being remodeled now, but I reminisce to the days of yore), the one who recognizes all the panhandlers around her neighborhood, and says hello to them. Transient folks circle the place, I have no idea if they are planning on hijacking a bus or what, but there is a bus/homeless person problem off downtown.

On the way home, again, lots of funny crap swirling in my brain-o, yet I forgot to write it down. There was the caddy with spoke type rims and protrusions from said rims. It reminded me of cowboy spurs or that stupid movie they are showing previews for, Death Race, I think. It is so bad I don’t want to even bother looking it up to get you a proper title. But, this caddy, if it got too close, or if I wandered out of my lane at all, poof, my tires would explode due to his protruding rim thing. Now it is morning, the time when I typically write my ramblings, and I have no idea what my thoughts were. Because the recall I just gave you – not funny.

The actual thoughts last night – Funny with a capital F.

I do recall one not so funny thing. Not nearly as funny as the things I was going to tell you.

When I was doing this carousing downtown yesterday, mid-day, which I am not wont to due typically, I realized I have a lot of those tag things on my keychain. The ones you get from stores.

These things.

I either have my priorities straight or I have a serious drinking problem. (Don’t answer that.)

Two from Spec’s.

You don’t have to laugh, it’s okay. I know my other stuff was freaking hilarious.

Now if I could only figure out where I placed those thoughts.

Wordpress or Blogger??

I have been playing with Wordpress today and have done what I can to create a page there.

Check it out: http://fiannas.wordpress.com/

My big question is, I do not like the standard templates provided by Wordpress. I would like to use the many random skins available online, but it appears that I must pay for the premium CSS components. In fact, just in order to change the colors on their standard templates, it appears that I must pay. It seems nuts. Tell me it is not true.


For those Wordpress fans, please let me know your favorite things on Wordpress v. Blogger.

Right now, my comfort level is with Blogger, but I am a fickle sort.

Today's Ten

1. Grandmother Shower : How To Avoid – Work through it. Have your boss work you to death and you will not have to attend, but you can certainly walk in, apologize how you are doing what you got out of bed to do that day, namely work, and that you cannot attend, although you can most certainly help yourself to the foodstuffs. A majority of the attendees felt the way I and the rest of the blogiverse feels. Showers suck. Convoluted excuses for showers suck even worse.

2. I cannot get the song, “Don’t Mess With My Toot Toot” out of my head.

3. Please write some stuff. It is Friday. I am suffering from acute Friday-itis and could really use some readings.

4. There really isn’t a #4.

5. I am thinking of buying some Starbucks later today. My cheap frugalitis needs some spenditis.

6. I have no plans for the weekend. This makes me glad and sad in the same minute.

7. Lucky No. 7.

8. Does anyone out there own Lucky Brand jeans? I hear they are phenomenal on the hind quarters, but due to aforementioned frugalities, Cannot. Try. On. Because. May. Like.

9. Today is payday. Weeeeee. I sure wish I could find a Wii.

10. I was going to ask for Kaytabug to mail me her Wii, but then the phrase kinda grossed me out and reminded me of my fave spam – Update Your Pe- nis. I mean really? Is there some software to upgrade to Pen/is 2.0? Is it an easy download? What if it crashes mid-load?

11. Eww. I said mid-load.

How You Doing?

The hard drive replacement mentioned last week hasn’t happened yet. But don’t worry, it will happen. Just on Fianna time. It took 73 days to get my lock fixed after some asshat screwed it up. 73 days, people! 73 days of unlocking my car from the passenger side. 73 days of walking up to my driver’s side door, trying to stick a key in the mangled lock, kicking the door, walking around to the passenger side door, and wiggling the key trying to get the faulty power locks to work.

My car …. A valet nightmare. First off, it is a Corolla. An old Corolla that is parked under a tree. A very shedding (shed-filled, shed-y??) tree, I might add. Now, if possible, I avoid the valet-ing. Because come on, who am I impressing or acting all important like with a 10 year old leaf-covered Corolla? It ain’t impressive.

My power window broke some time back. It needs a new motor that, when added in with the labor cost, is more expensive than my car. So… it ain’t happening. I can’t roll down my driver’s side window. Every drive-up ATM, every fast food window, every homeless person donation, has to occur through an opening of the door. This, of course, is a hassle, but no biggie. You get accustomed and adapt. However, this causes mass confusion and embarrassment when a stranger is driving said vehicle. So I must explain to any valet, oil change dude or dear friends and family – Do NOT roll down the window! Do Not! It will go down about 2 inches and stop. It won’t go down any further and it won’t go back up. Of course, with my penchant for expedient car repairs, when my inside door handle broke, I got it fixed, oh, probably 73 days after it broke. When I had to go to a valet during that time period, it was an adventure, don’t roll down the window, when you open the door – clasp this wire, pull out and then down and click your tongue four times, say “blueberry” and the door will open. The valet didn’t understand a word I said, got into my car, rolled the window down and although he was able to get in the car, due to the functioning outside handle, he couldn’t get out.

Wait. What was I discussing? Oh, computer hard drives. It will happen one day. Maybe.

As for what I did that prevented the hard drive work, I spent all day Saturday in my pj’s. I cleaned and organized and watched Lord of the Rings while asking Not Craig every 6 minutes, “What did he say?” While I understand the genius behind the LOTR stories and movie, mmm, not my cup o’ tea.

I slept until noon thirty on Sunday. It was wonderful. I then drove around town, locking and unlocking my door just for the thrill of it. I then went home, and cooked this for the second time. Try it. Even strident haters of the loaf will adore it.

How was your weekend?

Stop Stealing the Influenza Ridden Covers!

Has anyone else witnessed this whole flu sickyness going around this year? I feel like the remaining Indians (Native Americans) are all laughing at us whiteys, chortling their milk, thinking how awesome the revenge is. Smallpox? Fuck your smallpox. Here is some flu, bitches.

I have somehow remained immune to date; however, Not Craig nearly died and several peeps at work are suffering the Fluenza. Peeps that never get sick. It is like we are in the end times. Obama is gonna be prez and we are all dying off.

Thank goodness the writing strike is over. At least we can die with some good TV to watch.

Did you know there is a separate shot for pneumonia? I did not know this and feel that it may be a conspiracy to kill whitey. Or not. It is just a theory.

See what happens when Fianna works too much, plays too little and is surrounded by sick people and work drama? Stupid rambling posts.

If people would stop talking to me, I would have a lot more time to blog at work. Sorry folks. I am trying here.

In the meantime, don't get sick on me. We have to have an uprising against this Bird Flu crap.

Who's with me?

Bueller?

Bueller?

Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda

I was gonna post some pics. But the batteries in my camera are dead. Does the life of rechargeable batteries decline? I was surprised that they were dead already. Therefore, no pics for you.

I kinda wanted to add to my previous rant on the evilness of the snooze button. However, I thought better of it. I have enough teabags in my pantry, I didn’t need anymore in my life.

I woulda liked to discuss making breakfast on weekdays and see how others handle it.

Unfortunately, besides some bad grammar, I just don’t have any more time this morning to post.

Since I have committed to not be a bad employee and steal my company’s time by blogging at work or reading blogs at work or doing non-work related things at work because I am reading this book that I won from this awesome blogger, I just don’t have time in the morning to take pics, rant or discuss important matters of life.

Sorry. I am about halfway done with the book, after that, perhaps I will return to being the slovenly employee I was before. All this worky is exhausting!

I Give You VD, Because I Love You

I work in an office. With a lot of chicks. Today being VD, there are flowers galore. When they are first delivered, we all oooohhhh-annnnddd—ahhhhhh. The girls figure out what lucky gal is receiving them and then pout because they still haven’t received their special bouquet.

And I gag.

My love has been banned from buying me anything today. Which, of course, is aided by the fact that he is a state away.

I hate VD. The forced love and affection. The forced gifting. The forced emotion.

If you love me, tell me, because OMG! IT! IS! THURSDAY! And I LOVE YOU!

If you are gonna give me a gift, give me a gift because OMG! IT IS SOMETHING YOU WILL LIKE! And I LOVE YOU!

Don’t do it because Hallmark makes you.

If you are a chick that wants VD celebrated. Fine. That is great. Make sure your man knows that you are a celebrator of VD.

Of course, you must celebrate 3/14 as well. (Here is another linky because the other one seems to be wonky.)

Tit for tat.

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

With the state of the economy as it is, with the anticipation of living in a city I really like with the man I really love, with my finances not being wacko anymore, I am a house hunting crazy lady, not to be confused with my typical crazy cat lady self. More crazy, less fur.

I have watched HGTV for hours straight. All the house hunting, designing to sell, property virgin hoopla. I am in love. I want to buy property. I want a house. I want out of apartments.

And with the economy in turmoil, with foreclosures on the rise, I have been optimistic. Someone else's tragedy will be my fortune. I will be able to get a house, reasonably priced, and plant a garden and drink coffee on my back porch while reading a book. Mmmmm....I am getting excited thinking about it.

But then, I have to go and watch this.

And read this.

Sure, I can scold the culture that has created a negative savings rate and the idea of living off credit. However, this scared me.

Those that claimed to have been doing the right thing, had the savings in place, didn't overextend themselves. They are still in trouble.

Goes to show you...you can never be too prepared, have too much saved up, have too much insurance.

I am still searching for that wrap-around porch though, dammit. I will just have to buy it with cash.

(Links courtesy of Boston Gal.)

What Would Mrs. Wilson Do?

Sometimes the right thing is so hard to do. At work, we have picked up a saying, If Jesus was standing right next to you, what would you do?

It keeps us a little more honest, a little kinder and hell, we work with attorneys, we need all the salvation we can get.

I changed my course of action yesterday based on this. It was slightly painful, but the truth will set you free, I hear.

Substitute Jesus for whichever deity you would like, substitute it for your mom, your dog, your 1^st grade teacher. Whatever it takes for you to stop doing a slightly dishonorable or outright unbelievably horrible thing, and make you take the high road, because after all, karma is a bitch.

Don’t think that wrong action won’t come back and bite you. It will, in some way, someday.

Later in the day, a co-worker commented that he had been considering my past few months and was struck by what had been going on in my life – because in order to handle it, I had to be quite a resilient person, as well as a flexible one.

I was surprised by the comment, again, I work with attorneys and said sayer is an attorney, so I was quite appreciative that he noticed I had a life and actual things happening in it.

I think that most of the time, we don’t notice our own accomplishments. And moreover, I don’t know that we should take credit for keeping on, keeping on.

And perhaps that is my dilemma, should I really need to have a golden light watching over my shoulder keeping me straight. Shouldn’t I just do right? Should I really get a pat on the back for going to work, paying my bills, and being nice to people?

Shouldn’t I just do these things and go home and cook dinner, take out the trash and keep at it.

Do we really need these reminders to do well and to stay sane?

Obviously yes, because I feel better for doing the right thing at work. And I felt great that someone recognized that I am not a quivering mess.

So recognize someone in your life that is doing what they should with a situation. They could have screwed over someone, but they took the high road. They chose to do right, no matter what. They could have let life bowl them over until they were drooling into their oatmeal, but they just kept plowing ahead.

Recognize those small things in yourself.

Meme Madness

Back in the old days, Bev at Sauntering Soul tagged me for a meme. I am getting around to it, nearly a month later. I apologize for the delay... I am not sure it is worth the wait...

The tag rules are:

1) Link to the person who tagged you.

2) Post the rules on your blog.

3) Share 7 facts about yourself.

4) Tag 7 random people and include links to their blogs.

5) Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

1. I played the flute for 9 weeks in middle school. I promptly dropped it once the 9 weeks was up. In Kansas, we had 4 - 9 weeks grading sessions in school. In Texas, this was 6 – 6 weeks. What was it where you grew up?
2. My parents went to prom together. In a ’67 Mustang.
3. My first car, the car I had to help rebuild, was a ’67 Mustang. It was retired a year or so later as the axle was rusting and the wheels started to run more horizontal than tires should.
4. I collected elephants when I was younger. I don’t collect anything much these days.
5. When I was younger, I told my mom I didn’t want braces. I was concerned that they couldn’t afford them. I am getting them for myself this year. I am pretty sure I can afford them.
6. I LOVE Football. I hate basketball. I do not know why.
7. Daisies are my second favorite flower.

I tag you because you read this.

And the Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

Damn CAP! Here she goes again. She apparently did not receive the memo wherein it was discussed that I would not cry anymore this week. I love her so much. I totally have a hetero girl crush on her.

The moment today that made me smile so much in this post was relating to when I told a particularly judgmental friend about my Houston news. I hadn’t really felt like telling her before as I am still working my way through it on my own. I am trying to figure out how I feel about it. Making peace with the decision and the aftermath. She asked if I wanted to know her opinion. I said no. She responded, a bit surprised, “Really?” and I said, “No, I really don’t want to know what you think”.

We each get chances every day to make decisions, some tiny as in what way to take to work. Some a bit larger - should I wear this slutty-ish skirt to work today? And some really big, should I change my entire life today? Everyone is going to make their own decisions, make big and small decisions every day with the best information they have at that very moment. Decide what to put in their coffee, whether to have a second helping of casserole, paper or plastic. Decide to go back to school after a 20 year hiatus, to move to a new city, to change lanes, both in reality and metaphorically. Each decision made is what that person thought was best at that exact moment in time. Each person is going to be judged by others in their life as to how wise each decision was. You can listen and second guess your self, or you can simply ignore what everyone else has to say and move on. Keep making decisions, keep making your path, and just keep on keeping on.

I Want a Cookie!

One of these things is not like the others


One of these things just doesn't belong


Can you guess which thing is not like the others


By the time I finish my song?


Did you guess which thing was not like the others?


Did you guess which thing just doesn't belong?

If you guessed this one is not like the others,


Then you're absolutely...right!




DECAF! WTF! Are you trying to kill me, coffee? WTH is this crap!! ACK!

Pretty Miserable Sister

I am so very, very tired this week. But see, I have no one to tell how tired I am because a certain very important someone has worked triple digit hours in the past week. Triple! How do you even work triple digit hours in 6 days? Who am I to complain of how I worked from 8-7 in a cozy little office with air conditioning, carpet and a cushy chair. My working conditions and hours prohibit any bitching to him this week. Dammit dammit dammit. Cuz mama is tired.

And has thought of many new ways to kill the cutest weetle kitten. She needs Benadryl, Valium. I am quite sure the cat has ADD, a major sleeping problem and a slight empathy problem. I don’t think it matters how early I go to sleep anymore, she is going to destroy several hours of this sleeping business.

And the dreams of someone breaking into my room, they could stop. Thanks!

I have a really hard time with motel places. The ones where the rooms open to the outside. I get really freaked out that some dude in a red hoodie is breaking in and attacks me. He has followed me across many states for many years. Well, he apparently has followed me to Houston and has upgraded his hotel stays.

And the night before last, both cats decided to join in on the fun activity of Wake Mama Before Sunrise. To the right of me, the usual culprit Chloe was licking my face, to the left, Yoda joined in by nuzzling at my neck. Hi, kitties, love the attention and all, but it is 4:00 A.M. When the clock says 7:00 and I have overslept, then and only then is this acceptable behavior. Please, pretty please with a mackerel on top?

How will I ever survive a child? I was trying to rationalize with a damned cat at 4:00 this morning. “Look, little kitty cat, I will give you treats, I will make a special Fiesta run and get you Canned Cat Food, if you will just let me sleep until 6:30 without any further interruption.” “No, really, please.” “Ok, well, how about a new toy? You like mice? Would you like a brand new mouse?” And by 4:45, I was offering the damned kitten a pony.

I can just see it now, my 6 month old baby will have a Maserati.

Would someone please babysit a very friendly early rising kitten please? Pretty please with a Maserati on top?

Do Do Do Do Do...I'm Loving It!

Still working on rising from the funk. And worse? I am a copycat. Thanks, Bev!


Things I am Currently Loving:

Homemade pizza. No worry that the pizza guy will a) think I am crazy for wanting cheese free pizza, and then b) pick off the cheese from the pizza because the pizza guy neglected to leave it off.

Not Craig. He is incredibly kind and loving to his crazy girl even after a ridiculously long day at work.

New Mexican Skies.

Viewing pics of Kitten (perhaps named Sophie, or Sofa, or Sofapilla) and comparing then with now.




Anticipation of meeting my new niece.

Clean sheets. It’s the small things, folks!

Thoughts of a new creative pursuit. Do I make an apron? Do I finish my 15 year old cross stitch? Do I dare try knitting again? I so sucked at that!

Kind words from innernet strangers in response to my funk.

Ebay sales.

Dreams of the future.

That the scorpion on my kitchen floor this morning was nearly dead. Which would add Orkin to the loving list.

Best friends.

That is a good start.... like a phoenix...I rise from the pissiness. Wait....that doesn't sound right....

I May Have Found a New BFF

This is wholly inappropriate on a Sunday, but what am I, if not wholly inappropriate.



Lots o' cussing here. Because that's the way we like it, uh huh, uh huh.

TWF Seeking INBFF

As you get older, your friends thin out. The things that you had in common, school, classes, boys, love for the mall, begin to fade. Your common links become less and less.

Yet it is so hard to let go, to separate yourself from this person you called your best friend, your good friend, your buddy for so many years.

But I have moved past wanting a vacuous relationship based on a common interest in Macy’s shoe department. I don’t care to discuss ad nauseam what he means when he calls the day after you put out but doesn’t want to get together until 2 weeks from Friday.

I don’t want to go have over-priced margaritas while we talk about how that bitch you work with wore an outfit that didn’t match and she will probably get promoted even though she doesn’t deserve it, just because she has big tits.

I want to move past that, I want to grow up. I want to talk about our dreams for the future, how to save enough money to buy a house, how we are sick of boys and want to be treated right and find a man that is ready to settle down and buy a dog and watch CNBC with.

I would rather get together for an inexpensive meal at my place and watch a movie, than go get our drink on at the local meat market.

.......

How do you transform an early 20’s friendship into a mature one? How do you not leave your closest friend behind when you have moved past their greatest interests?

Can you walk the fine line between the two?

This Meme Means Happiness

I know I should be typing about Vegas here. But ya know, I don’t wanna. I feel poopy today and this is my little piece of innernet and, It’s My Prerogative, I can do what I wanna do, but not in a crack-smoking Bobbie way and definitely not in a whore-y Britney way, just My Way, more like Sinatra.

I have been feeling icky for the last few days. I can’t say that I have any real physical ailment, I haven’t been going to bed at a decent hour all week, I haven’t worked out in some time and there is a Tropical Storm in Houston and I am not there to enjoy it. And so I am feeling yucky and want to watch some crappy TV and snack all day. I want to curl up with my blankie and have my mom bring me Sprite and toast while I watch the Monchichi’s.

The Pop Culture Librarian tagged the blogosphere with the aptly named Stuart Smalley meme. The task is to list 10 rockin’ things about yourself. I need this right about now.

1. I have a huge heart. I can empathize like nobody’s business. I want you to tell me how life has beaten you up and then I will give you a big hug and cry with you.
2. I can have a good time anytime, anywhere. Wow, that sounds dirty. I don’t get bored. I make the best of whatever lame-o situation I find myself in.
3. I don’t hold grudges. I can’t. I can’t remember what bad, evil thing a person may have done to hurt me in the first place, in order to hold a grudge. I forget mean behavior in those I love, very quickly.
4. I love animals. I will feed all strays. I will take in wayward kittens. I will stop in the middle of the Houston HOV to rescue a stranded pup.
5. I am funny in a very goofy-make you turn that frown upside down-sort of way.
6. I am hardworking and diligent in both my personal and professional life. You want something done? Ask me to do it.
7. I am honest. I will not cheat or lie or take advantage of a person for my own gain.
8. I am optimistic to the extreme. I look on the bright side of all situations. I see the good in people and always give others the benefit of the doubt.
9. I am polite. I will open the door for others. I will wave when merging in traffic. I will pick up items that someone dropped. I say please and thank you.
10. I have gorgeous red hair. And some nice junk in the trunk. Hey, self love, folks, self love!
    

So ya’ll go get your self-loving on!! But make sure and shut the blinds first.