So it's Christmas yet again...

Christmas is almost here.  The stockings have been hung and all that jazz.  Christmas always leaves me with mixed feelings.  I have never been a huge fan of Christmas.  My entire single adult life, I only but up a Christmas tree one year.  I put it up the first year I lived alone after college and decided it was a lot of work to rearrange furniture and lug that tree and my decorations out.  Then I had to look at that awful cheap tree and my crappy cheap ornaments.  Way to much work just so I could look at that ugly tree.    Since The Smooch and I got married, the tree comes out a little more often.  If you read my blog My Favorite Christmas Tradition is..... then you will know that I have come a long way with my holiday traditions.

But Christmas is more than the decorations.  It would be so much easier if it stopped there but it doesn't.  Family is often involved.  The Smooch and I are lucky.  We both have loving families, blah, blah, blah.  What I actually mean by lucky with families is that both of our parents are still married so we only have two families to worry about and no step or half families.  So only two Christmases each year.  And we are even luckier because our families live in two different states.  While it sucks that we can see both of our families for every holiday, it also means that we only have to be in one place each holiday.  We don't have to rush from my family to his, driving hundreds of miles in the middle of the day just to watch small children ripping apart wrapping paper to see what they got.  Then once all those gifts are open, the complaining starts.  I didn't get as many gifts as my sibling.  My siblings gifts are bigger.  Blah, Blah, Blah.

I am not sure where I am going with all of this.  The truth is that I am waiting for The Smooch to come home so we can go to a Christmas Eve party.  So I am bored and rambling and just trying to kill some time.  But I think my point is that I think we often forget the real meaning of Christmas.  It should be a time about giving. 

I think we need to stop and really think about Christmas.  This should be a time of getting along and caring for each other.  Do nice things for strangers.  They don't have to be big.  They can be simple gestures.  Give to charity.  Don't create drama.  Love your family for themselves and not because they gave you crap.

I think that this blog is more a reminder for me than an interesting read for you.  I often forget the spirit of Christmas and let the drama take over.  So I will take a big breath and be happy for what I have, for the time I will get to spend with my family and for the overall magic of the season.

Merry Christmas to you.

The Smooch just got home and is complaining about there being no wine.  I guess this evening will be longer than anticipated without that boozy haze.

Merry Christmas to you.  I hope that the holiday, whichever holiday you celebrate, brings you happiness and cheer.


------Update---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The above was written on Christmas Eve 2013.  Today is the day after Christmas 2013.  And while I did try to feel the spirit of Christmas all day.  I was only successful part of the day.  I did find that spirit.  But I didn't find it in the constant debate over the Duck Dynasty guy.  He has the right to believe and say whatever he wants.  Just like you do.  If you don't like it, don't support him.  Stop watching his show.  I didn't find in in the on going debate about whether not we are allowed to say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays or whatever.  Say whatever you want.  But when people say something to you that you don't like, just remember the above.  We all have the right to believe in what we want.  And I certainly didn't find the Christmas spirit in all the bitching about UPS and FedEx.  For real people, give them a break.  They could not have predicted weather and other problems.  Those people work all night this time of year.  Do you?  Also, it is not UPS's fault that you waited to the last minute to order/ ship your gifts.  That was all you.  But I bet you are glad you finally have someone else to blame for a change of pass.

And the highlight of my non-spirit Christmas day was probably when a small child announced "This Sucks!" when he was told that instead of the regular feeding frenzy of everyone opening gifts at once, everyone would take turns opening gifts one at a time.  He declared "This Sucks, and is unfair for those of us who have to wait."

At that outcry, The Smooch and I smiled that knowing smile of a couple with no children and departed to our own house.  A house full of silence and where we could open gifts however we wanted.  That is where I found the Christmas spirit.  Alone with My Smooch.

I hope you found the Christmas spirit somewhere this holiday.

My Favorite Christmas Tradition is.....

While surfing the internet, I ran across the blog My Favorite Christmas Tradition Is.... from Janine's Confessions of a Mommyaholic.  Janine was challenging her readers to finish the sentence "My favorite holiday/ Christmas Tradition is...."  I am accepting that challenge.

What is my favorite Christmas Tradition??  That is a good question.  As far as traditions go, I am sort of in a transitional period.  The Smooch and I just hit our two year wedding anniversary in September.  We met in January before we got married so our first Christmas together was also our first Christmas together as a married couple.  This Christmas coming up will be our third together.  We are still looking for our Christmas traditions.  So far we haven't done anything consistently.  The Smooch's family is from New York so we spend every other year at their house for Christmas.  On those years (all 1 so far), we didn't even bother putting up a Christmas tree since we wouldn't be home to enjoy it.  On the years we stay home and go to my family's for Christmas, we do put up a tree but so far our tree is pretty sad.  I have some ornaments from my childhood.  My husband also has a few ornaments from his childhood but they all have his brother's name on them.  Apparantly an ex-girlfriend of The Smooch destroyed all of his childhood ornaments in some sort of crazed fit.  I think that might be about the coldest thing you could do to a person.  Somehow my husband ended up with some of his brother's ornaments.  So our tree is a mash up of ornaments from our childhood.

This brings me to my favorite Christmas tradition.  This may not be something we do at Christmas but it is something we do for Christmas.  The Smooch and I are trying to gather ornaments from "our" life.  When we travel, we try to buy ornaments that will remind us of these trips together.  We only have a few so far but my favorite thing is getting those ornaments out each year and remembering the trip we took.  Our Christmas tree is turning into a scrap book of our lives and that is probably my favorite holiday tradition.   

This is the ornament we recently bought on a trip to visit the in-laws.  It represents our trip to New York City we took last Christmas.  When we were in NY visiting his family, we went into the city to see the tree at Rockefeller Center.  When I get home, I will put last year's date on it and then I will hang it on the tree.  Whenever I see it, I will think of my first time to Rockefeller Center and even more importantly, the first Christmas I spent with my in-laws.

What are your favorite Christmas/ Holiday traditions?  I want to hear them!

The Walking Dead Took Over My Life

So you may or may not have noticed that I have been absent for a while.  I have a good excuse... well maybe not a good excuse, maybe just an excuse.  I started watching The Walking Dead on AMC.  My sister introduced the show to me when I was visiting her and I was immediately hooked.  The Smooch and I had to start watching it.  The show had just started it's fourth season, so we had some catching up to do.  The Smooch and I spent three solid weeks but we watched all three previous seasons and got caught up on season 4.  It took many types of media to get there.  We borrowed seasons 1 and 2 from the library.  We signed up for a one month free trial from Netflix just so we could get season 3.  Then we had to download and pay for the remaining episodes of Season 4.  But we are now caught up.    We stayed up late trying to get in one last episode.    We spent an entire Saturday dedicated to nothing but The Walking Dead.  We didn't leave the couch, we didn't shower, we didn't move.  We had pizza delivered directly to our couch so we wouldn't miss a minute. 

I want to save you all that pain and suffering so I am going to give you the cliff notes version of what happened in the four seasons of The Walking Dead.  **Spoiler Alert**  You may want to skip this blog if you are really interested in watching The Walking Dead, which I totally recommend.  Just kidding, I don't think I give away too much but if you are worried about it, just look at the pretty pictures.

The best part of me...

Lately I feel like The Smooch is getting the raw end of the deal.  He married me for a variety of reasons but I bet none of those reasons were because I am tired and grouchy at the end of the day.  Or maybe he is a masochist and that is exactly the reason he married.  In that case, we shall be happily married forever.  But I don't think so.  Which sucks because The Smooch sleeps later than I do so I don't see him until after work at which time I am normally grouchy and tired.  I am not this way because I hate my job.  It is quite the opposite.  I enjoy my job but that is not to say that I don't have my fair share of work related BS.  I do, who doesn't.  But I sometimes feel that I spend the best part of me at work.  I am refreshed when I get to work.  Little has crapped on my day yet.  The sun is shining.  By the time I get home from work, the sun has long gone to bed, which makes me want to be long gone to bed.  I feel like maybe I get a certain amount of patience every day.  And I feel like I use it all up at work.  I work in affordable housing and our tenants can sometimes be challenging.  That is not to say that they all are.  Some of them are very nice and grateful, but with every yin there is a yan.  For every great tenant, there is one crazy one, for every smiling tenant, there is a yelling one.  I sometimes feel that I use all my patience dealing with the tough tenants.  I use it dealing with the tenant who showed up drunk again...  I use it on the tenant who is asking for the impossible...  I use it on the tenant who feels entitled to things they don't deserve.  So by the time that I get home, I am tired and done with listening to others.  Why do I save the best of me for work?  Maybe because they pay me?  Maybe because it's my job?  This is not to say that all my patience is used on undeserving people.  I am very happy to give my patience to those who really need it.  That tenant who calls with lots of questions.  They are trying to understand a confusing process and I am happy to help them through it.  Better than you yelling at me later because you don't understand something.  I am happy to help people.

How do I save some of that patience and kindness for when I get home?  So that my husband and I can have a fun evening instead of me crawling into my pajamas and watching tv all evening.  I don't know the answer to that.  But for now, I am going to try to be more aware.  Try to be less grouchy with my husband.  And until I figure this all out, I am going to be glad to have a husband who likes curling up on the couch and watching tv as much as I do.

Ironically enough, The Smooch said to me while I was typing this.... "I love you even though you're a bad wife."  Wow, thanks honey.  Maybe I am not the only grouch.

 

 

I grew up in a zoo...

That may be a slight exaggeration but not far.  I didn't actually grow up in a zoo.  I did, however, grow up at a house with tons of animals.  You may remember from the blog post Random Stuff That Happened This Week - Week of September 9, 2013 that my mother (not my father, even though they live together) has a ton of dogs.  Now it may seem a little abnormal to have 9 dogs living in one household but it never seemed abnormal to me.  I grew up on a farm.  We did some farming when I was a kid but we did not have a big huge factory farm.  Just a small one.

Country life is different than city life.  I guess the same can be said about city life being different than country life.  Both are fine, they both just have their pros and cons.  In my country life, there were always tons of animals around.  Below are a list of animals that we had at our house at one time or another.  We didn't have all of these animals at once, they all over lap.

• Horse - Just one, Sunshine Jim

• Cow - Joey.  He made a good burger.

• Goats - Burt and Ernie.  I was four when we got them.  Give me a break.

• Dogs - Too many to count.  I do know that we had so many over the years that we had to start reusing names.

• Cats - When we first moved into our house, there were a bunch of feral cats.  This happens when you live in the country because assholes think that because you live in the country, it is okay to dump there unwanted cats at your house.  It's not dickhead.  That's not cool.  Love your animals.  Anyway, so we had a bunch of feral cats that we couldn't touch.  They didn't like people.  Since we couldn't catch them.  We couldn't remove their reproductive organs.  We did spay and neuter all of the kittens.  But for year's we couldn't catch the original cats and those cats kept on multiplying until they final died.  But at one time, we did have 17 cats.  In the immortal words of Bob Barker,  "Help control the pet population. Have your pets spayed or neutered." 

• Hamsters - We had two, Bud and Bart.  Naming was not our strong feature.

• Guinea Pigs - Just one, Sandy.  We would let her run around the bathroom, not all the times but sometimes.   And she loved to squeak.  That thing about drove you crazy with all that squeaking.

• Chinchilla - We only had one of these.  I can't remember it's name.  The curse of having a lot of pets is that you can't remember all there names.  But that critter was fun.  We loved to give it dust baths.

We also had a ton of birds.  I am not sure why but there were always birds roaming the property.

• Guineafowl - Not sure what to say about these.  They are like chickens but not at all.

• Parakeet - His name was Petey.  Yes, like the parakeet on Dumb and Dumber.

• Cockatiel - His name was Max.  He loved the blow dryer.  We would give him showers with a spray bottle and dry him off with the blow dryer.  Anytime you blew dry your hair he would go crazy because he wanted a blow out as well.  We kept Max in the bathroom.  With a house full of cats, small animals live in the room with a door that closes tight.

• Pheasants - Boring old garden variety.  When I was a kid my grandfather* was very active in the local conservation club.  One of the projects they worked on was bringing back pheasants to the area.  Apparently there were not many in the area.  They would deliver hundreds of baby chicks to my grandfather's house and he would put them in this HUGE cage in his backyard.  I can't even describe how big it was.  The cage was bigger than the second house I owned.  Then when they were all grown up, we would round them up.  Each person would take a dozen pheasants or so and release them in different parts of the county.

• Golden Pheasants - Not sure where we got these but they were pretty cool looking.

• Quail - Bob White - About as exciting as they sound.

• Doves - We had one really ugly one that we named Steve Urkel.  He was popular at the time.

• Peacocks - Peacocks are beautiful but the make crazy noises.  Their screeches sound like women screaming.  When we first got them the neighbors would stop by just to make sure we were all okay.

• Geese - I hated those things and they hated me. They once chased me through the yard peeking at me the whole time.  They cornered me in the barn until someone came out of the house to rescue me.  This story always gets big laughs but I am telling you, that shit was traumatizing.  I hate geese to this day.  NOT FUNNY.

• Chickens - We had a ton over the years.  But we did have this one rooster that hated men.  I didn't know a rooster could have those kind of emotions.  But he did and he hated my father.  If my father was walking around the barn, the rooster would run the other way around the barn so he could attack my father at a corner.  That thing was evil, pure evil.

• Ducks- We started out with 5 but had over 100 in a year.  They would hang out at our house in the spring and summer and then every fall they would migrate, well I guess I don't know where they went but they came back the next spring.  The story of how we got them is also quite funny.  When I was a kid, we had a Schwans Man.  He drove this huge freezer truck and drove around selling frozen goods (pizza, ice cream) out of his truck.  My dad mentioned to him once that he wanted some ducks.  The next time the Schwans Man came around, he had a box of ducks in the front seat of his truck.  I guess he was full service.

* Mutters under breath - Son of a Bitch

It's Time To Buy Lycra Or To Start Working Out

Today I went shopping for clothes.  I have a work conference coming up and wanted to find something a little more professional to wear .  Clothes shopping has lost some fun since getting married because of something that someone once referred to as "Happy Weight."  It is not weight gain that makes you happy but weight gain caused by being happy!?!  Stupidest thing I have ever heard.  So I am on a mission to find some great shapewear.  I would love to hear your suggestions in the comments.

But this reminded me of the last time I was in the market for some shapewear.  This happened just over two years ago right before The Smooch and I got married.  I needed some serious shapewear to go under my wedding dress.  The dress was strapless and I have big boobs.  For you lady readers, you know what a challenge buying shapewear can be, but to find something strapless that still has the support to hold up your girls is really a challenge.  For my male readers, I apologize for the below in advance.

My search took me in and out of many shops but I couldn't find exactly what I needed.  I had no idea how hard it would be.  And the poor Smooch was with me.  I told him it would take about 15 minutes but then the search ended up taking three hours in and out of eight stores.  He was a great sport though.

I ended up at Victoria's Secret.  The Smooch had had enough and went into a different store in the mall.  We agreed I would call him when I was ready and we would meet up.  I went into Victoria's Secret and explained what I was looking for.  No problem, we have exactly what you need.  She found my size and sent me to the dressing room.  I got to the dressing room and examined what I had.  It was basically a small tube with two cups at the top.  Was this the right size?!?!  No way.  I checked the label and the label confirmed my worst fears.  It was my size.  Dear God save me.  I said a prayer but couldn't hear God's response over his laughter.  I disrobed down to my knickers.  I tentatively stepped into the garment.  I got it pulled up to my butt but could not get it pulled over my ass.  Well maybe my ass is to large, maybe I need to pull it over my head.  So I took it off and tried to pull it on over my head.  But I couldn't pull it down while keeping my arms straight above my head.  Hmmmm......  This went on for about 15 minutes.  I tried stepping into it and pulling up, I tried pulling it over my head...  I twisted and pulled but I could not get it on.  Perhaps it was a puzzle and you had to pull and push in all the right places to get it to fall comfortably in place???  Perhaps if I had taken a yoga class or some sort of contortionist class I could have gotten it on???  Perhaps if I was double jointed, I don't know.  It seemed that it was not meant to be.  I disgruntledly put my clothes back on and left the dressing room.

The Victoria's Secret employee cheerily asked me how it went.  I told her that it didn't.  I couldn't figure out how to get it on.  She took me by the arm and assured me that we would get that life constricting girdle on me.  Again, I looked to God.  The laughing was uncontrollable now.  The Victoria's Secret employee was slightly older than me.  Not old enough to be my mother but old enough to have seen it all, to have been there and done that.  We went into the dressing room and I disrobed again.  I am now standing there in nothing but my underpants in front of the Victoria's Secret employee.  I should also add that I am quite sweaty from my first attempt at putting this contraption on.  She said you have to step into it and pull it on.  I had complete faith in her.  Let's do this.  I pulled it up again to my butt and again I couldn't get to it any higher.  Embarrassment is starting to set in.  My lower half is incased like a sausage with the top half of me pouring out of it.  Again, I should mention that I am sweating and am really starting to get hot.  This is only causing my body to expand.  Not a good thing.

She looked me in the eyes and said, we are going to do this.  She told me to grab each of the sides and we would pull it on together.  She then stepped up to me perpendicularly to my body in what I can only describe as a solid stance.  A stance she had obviously gained from years of pulling lycra onto desperate women.  She then bent over and put one hand on the front of the life changing garment and the other hand on the back.  Since the piece was still below my ass, she had to bend over slightly to grab the garment in the right places.  This put her face directly into my naked boobs.  Awesome.  She then yelled "PULL" and together we pulled with all our might and the damn thing slipped on and into place.  It was perfect.  I couldn't breath so I knew it was working.  To get the thing back off, we had to do the same thing in reverse, with both of us pulling at the same time.  Again, her face was in my boobs.

When it was over, we were both covered in sweat.  I paid for my hard earned breath stopper and left the store.  The Smooch found my sitting on a bench outside of Victoria's Secret.  My hair was disheveled, my face was red and I was sweating.  He also said I had a look on my face of complete despair.  He asked me what happened.  I told him that I couldn't tell him.  We weren't yet married and I didn't want to ruin his image of me.  I told him that it started with a workout and it ended with Victoria's Secret employee and I sharing a cigarette.

Flashback to college

Today I woke up and felt like I did when I was in college.  Hung over.  My body hurt...  my head was pounding.... and I was nauseous.  I am exhausted and I felt like I had been hit by a truck.  And then I found men's clothing on the floor.  Not my husband's.  Oh god...  what have I done?!  I tried to remember but it was a blur.  I was disoriented.  I didn't know what time it was.  I was confused.  I found The Smooch and then reality sunk in.  I asked The Smooch about the night before.  How much did I drink?  About a gallon, he replies... of water.  Water?  Oh yeah.  I'm not hung over, I'm just old.  I'm not 20 anymore.    I didn't have anything to drink last night.  I did attend a pretty awesome party.  The Smooch and I hosted a Halloween Party.  My body hurts partly because I was wearing the wrong shoes and standing all night.  And partly because people kept slamming into me because... well that's what happens when you dress up like a wrecking ball.*  My headache is due to lack of sleep.  I went to bed at 2:00 am.  That is much later than my normal bedtime of 11:00 pm and my abnormal bedtime of 9:00 pm.  Which is what time I went to bed the couple days leading up to the party.  I thought that you were supposed to need less sleep as you got older, not more?  I am nauseous because, like I did in college, I ate Taco Bell at 10:30 am after waking up.  I thought they opened at 10:00 so I trolled through their parking lot like a creeper waiting for them to open.  And the disorientation and not knowing the time can be explained because of Daylight Savings and the fact that we turned the clocks back.

And the men's clothing....  well, things came into focus quickly. 

Pile of Men's Clothing.  Not the Smooch's.

Apparently this guest left the party naked.

So I guess I am not as wild as I thought I was... or maybe as wild as I was in college.  But that's okay.  I had a great time last night anyway.  And as I am writing this, I see that it is almost 9:00 pm.  Which was 10:00 pm yesterday, which is passed my bedtime.  Happy Halloween and Good Night.


*The Smooch was Miley Cyrus.

The Smooch

I love my husband.  But I think that all wives say that.  We have to right?!  The Smooch and I have been married for just over two years.  In terms of being married, I think we might still be newly weds.  We are not a typical 20-something couple.  We are a 30ish/40ish something couple.  Being a little older and stuck in our own ways provides many challenges for us.  Especially since neither one of us is ever wrong.  And I do mean ever....*

I think as you get older what you find sexy changes...  in some ways at least.  I used to think sultry eyes and a charming smile where the end all be all.  But as I get older, I realize it is really something else.  It is finding out that a load of laundry got done so that you don't have to go commando at work...  It is coming home to a clean house and the grocery shopping done.  It is finding out that your better half can and will defend you and stand up for you in ways that you yourself could never do.  I have found that in The Smooch.

Now that is not to say that he is a push over and will defend me always.  No sir.  If I'm wrong, he lets me know it.  Which usually leads to fighting.*  But he does.  And I may not always show it because, well you know why* but he always makes me stop and think.  I stop and think about how I should have seen a problem or how I should have reacted to a certain situation.  And it may not always be obvious but I try to act differently.  The Smooch has this way of thinking that is new to me.  He sees things so much differently than I do.  He is always showing me a new way to live and a new way to be.  He teaches me so much about relationships.  I always found myself surrounded by people and I always thought that was good enough.  The Smooch is teaching me that it is not the quantity of people in your life but the quality.  And quality friends are harder to find and even harder to keep.  The relationship its self is harder.  It just takes more time and effort.  But because of these hard lessons, I think my friends/ family are getting more out of me and I am getting more out of them.  Or at least that is the goal.

The moral of the story is this....  I love my husband.  I am a lucky girl.




Dramatic Reenactment - The Smooch

*As of the publishing of this blog, The Smooch or his lovely bride have never been wrong.  EVER!!

Weird Shepherd's Pie

Last night I did something for The Smooch that I haven’t done in a while.  Eww..  No not that.   You have such a dirty mind.  What I actually did was cook.  Shocking I know.  But let's be clear, this is not a cooking website and I am not giving cooking advice.  You would be a fool to follow any advice I have on cooking.

Cooking at my house is never as easy as it sounds.  Our kitchen is tiny and I always have an audience.  I have been trying to teach the dogs to stay out of the kitchen.  I just about have the one below trained.  He does however hover in the door frame.  But he knows better than to cross that line.

Please sir can I have some more?

The cooking motivation started when I met with my blogger friend from Honesty's Protégée to discuss all things blogging.  She has an awesome blog full of recipes and DIY projects.  I picked out a recipe for Biscuit Lasagna to make but when I tried to explain it to The Smooch, he was disgusted.  Something about his family being Italian and lasagna being sacred and if it doesn’t have noodles then you can’t call it lasagna… or something along that line.  The argument that ensued ended with me saying “Fine, then it’s called Weird Shepherd’s Pie, can you eat that?” and he agreed he could eat it and maybe even enjoy it as long as lasagna wasn’t in the title.  Deal!

Green Peppers

The Smooch tends to hate my cooking.  I know, what an awful man he is.  But he has a good reason for hating my cooking.  I can't cook.  Or maybe a more accurate portrayal  is that I don't know how to follow a recipe.  Ok, that's not quite it either.  The truth is that I simply don't follow the recipe.  I tend to think of them more as guidelines.  If I don't have all the ingredients, that's okay, I'll just leave them out or I may try to substitute with something that I do have in the house.  Tomato sauce and ketchup??  Basically the same thing right?  And if I have 3/4 of a cup and the recipe calls for 1 cup then 3/4 will do.  And the opposite is also true.  It if calls for 3/4 of a cup and I have 1 cup, I add it all.  I am not putting 1/4 of a cup of something back in my fridge.  Instead of throwing it away, into the pot it goes.  And because of these tiny, insignificant changes, my husband thinks everything I cook is awful.  Hogwash I say.  It takes like Hogwash, he says.

So I made some minor changes, sue me.  It turned out pretty good.  Except that the biscuits only cooked on the top side and they were raw on the bottom.  But that could have totally be our oven.  Right?  Otherwise, It was pretty good.  And eating a raw biscuit won't kill you.

Yum??

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Tricknee

You know how people need alcohol to feel brave to do idiotic things?  I am unfortunately not one of those people.  I tend to do stupid things completely sober.  So to explain to you exactly what happened to me last night (or what stupid thing I did to myself) I must explain a couple things to you first. 

•  I am pro-alcohol and do imbibe on occasion.  The problem is that alcohol is not pro-me.  We used to have a pretty good love-hate relationship.  Now, it is becoming more hate-hate.  As I get older, it takes the same amount of alcohol to feel drunk but significantly less to feel hung-over.  I now become hung-over after only two water-downed drinks.  My husband thinks I am a mean drunk so he has me on a strict two drink limit.  Because of this, I drink significantly less than I used to. 

•  A year or so ago, my parents hosted a big shin dig.  That means party to you city folk.  For said party, my parents had rented a bounce house.  Oh, what fun!!  If I only knew the truth*.  As the party was winding down, I decided it would be a good idea to try out the bounce house.  Rumors later circulated that I had drank too much.  I am here to tell you the truth.  I had exactly 1/2 of a beer over the course of two hours.  I wish I had been drunk, it would be less embarrassing.  Anyway, so I yelled to The Smooch, to come join me.  We were bouncing and having fun.  And then it happened.  I learned a valuable lesson.  I jumped one way and my knee went the other.  I hit the ground screaming in pain.  The Smooch kept bouncing thinking I was faking.  I was not.  My knee had twisted and had given out.  My niece and nephew would  later ridicule me about why I should have followed the rules of the bounce house.  I was over the weight limit.  I was over the height limit.  Why didn't I listen? A trip to an orthopedic surgeon assured me that not only was my knee not permanently injured, unlike my ego, I was also the oldest bounce house victim the orthopedic surgeon had ever seen.  Now I have a trick knee that gives out at the most inopportune moments.  Like that time in improv class where I got up too fast and my damn trick knee gave out.  Shortest scene ever.  But big laughs.

Back to last night....  My big injury happened over a year ago.  I have only had minor problems since then.  Lately, I have been feeling like my knee was almost back to 100%.  And then it happened.  It gave out again last night.  It gave out in a big way.  I will preface this story by saying I am okay.  I am writing this with my leg propped up and with an ice pack but I am okay.  So I give you permission to laugh.  Laugh big.  Laugh hard.  In exchange, I ask that you not tell anyone about this.  This may easily be one of my more embarrassing moments.  The only reason it isn't my number one most embarrassing moment is because I was alone when it happened.  There were no witnesses.

And here is what happened.... It was about 11:30.  The OSU game had just ended.  Time for bed.  I had had exactly 0 alcoholic beverages.  I was however sitting near two people that were drinking.  Maybe I had a contact buzz?  I don't know.  I did, however drink a lot of water and I do have a very small bladder.  That makes for a dangerous combination.  All of a sudden, I had to pee.  Bad.  I ran to the bathroom (well walked quickly, because who am I kidding, I never run.)  There was no time to shut the door, and I barley had time to pull my pants down.  No need to unbutton because well, you know (Button Free, Zipper Free, Care Free).  So pants half way down my legs, I turn to sit, and then my knee gave out.  I bounced off the toilet and fall, half in/half out of the walk in shower, pants around my knees.  I take a breath and try to assess the damage.  My knee hurts... bad.  But so does something else.  Oh yeah, that's my bladder, I still have to pee.  If possible, even worse than when I originally rushed into the bathroom.  I am glad to know that in intense situations, I can hold it.  Peeing my pants would have been the icing on the cake.  I take another breath.  Can I move myself the few inches to make it to the toilet?  Is my knee strong enough to support me?  Did The Smooch here the crash and is he on his way up here now?  We are not yet to a place where I wanted him in the bathroom when I was peeing.  The door was open, he could walk in anytime.**  My need was urgent, so I decided to risk it.  I moved towards the toilet and lifted myself up.  And then I fell in.  It seemed that when I bounced off the toilet, I had hit it with such a great force, that the toilet seat had ripped clear off the toilet.  It was two feet away.  I finished my business and then hobbled to the nearest bedroom to lie down.  Then I yelled for The Smooch.  When he arrived, I was half crying with pain and half laughing from embarrassment. 

He entered the bedroom not sure how to react.  There lies his crazy wife, laughing hysterically and holding her knee.  He tentatively asked the obvious.  I couldn't explain.  The tears and the laughter wouldn't stop.  I simply pointed towards the bathroom.  He assessed the scene but still couldn't put the story together.  So, through the tears and sweat, I told him what happened.  I told him the truth.  I have a family history of destroying toilets in unusual ways.***  So he just smiled and lovingly helped me hobble to bed.  He got me an ice pack and has been taking care of me all day.  Because when your wife is prone to idiotic drunken accidents when completely sober, you have no choice but to smile, take care of her and just shake your head and laugh.



Dramatic Reenactment

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*The Truth! Bounce Houses are dangerous!!  I have proof.
'Bounce houses' under new scrutiny | The Columbus Dispatch
Nationwide Children’s Hospital Study Shows Increase In Bounce House-Related Injuries - 10tv

** In fact, we almost got divorced earlier in the week when he walked in on me going number two.  Traumatic for both of us.  There was yelling and screaming on both parts.  We couldn't look at each other for the rest of the day.

*** My grandfather, the asshole, once destroyed a toilet when he dropped a crock pot on it.  Because who doesn't dispose of rancid vegetable soup by pouring it down the toilet?  The crock pot was unharmed.

My Dream of Chocolate .... A Children's Story

A gal that I went to high school with, Mindy McGinnis recently published a young adult book called Not A Drop To Drink.  This got me thinking, maybe I should write a book, a children's book.  I mean I totally have all the skills.  I've been writing a blog for about 20 minutes.  I don't have kids or want kids but I do see them on television and one time one talked to me at the park.  It was crying and lost or something but I just sent it away.  Wow that was close.  So like I said, totally qualified to write a children's book.  So below, for your eyes only, is my first children's book.  Enjoy!

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My Dream of Chocolate

I must be dreaming because I am in a room full of chocolate.  Chocolate as far as the eye can see.  There are all types of chocolate.  Dark chocolates, white chocolates, those delicious Mexican chocolates.  And it was all for me. 

I put the first delicious pieces of chocolate in my mouth.  Amazing.  Oh the sweet goodness.  I couldn't stop.  I was addicted.  I started stuffing as many chocolates into my mouth as I could.  Chocolate sauce spilled everywhere.  It was on my face and in my hair.  But I didn't care because I was so happy.

Then my mom walked in.  "What are you doing?" she shrieked.  "Get away from those chocolates.  What will people think about you putting all those chocolates in your mouth.  You should be more selective and pick only one chocolate.  And one day, when your are my age, you will realize that your delicious chocolates have turned old, white, and crusty."

And then I woke up....  Craving chocolate and wanting more.  Desperate for more, I thought to myself, maybe I can buy chocolate.  Where's my piggy bank?  I was on a mission...

THE END

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So that is my children's story.  After rereading it I thought to myself, wow.  Wow, that is awful.  What can I do to make that crap better.  And then it hit me, like a ton of delicious chocolate.  I needed a gimmick.  I don't need to make this story more appealing to children, they are stupid and have no money.  I need to make this story more appealing to their parents.  How do I do that?  I know.  Pick one word and have the parents' replace that word in their head when they are reading this crappy story.  I am a genius!!!  So reread the story above but replace the word chocolate with sexy men or sexy women depending on your sexual orientation.  I know.  Genius.  And, you're welcome.

That was a drag....

Saturday night led me to a nightclub in Columbus called Axis.  This is a gay bar.  I am not a gay person.  But the shocking part is not that I am a straight person in a gay bar but that I am a morning person in a night club.  Ouch.  So what led me to this fine establishment, you ask?  My own insanity.  I was reading the local magazine called 614 Magazine.  The article was entitled Fabulous & Unique.  The gist of the article is that Axis Nightclub was having a Pink Anti-Bullying Event featuring Nina and Virginia West (a mother/ daughter drag queen duo (I am not sure how that works either)) and Alex Newell who plays Unique on Glee.  If you watch Glee then you will know he is the one in drag.

Virginia West

I agree with anti-bullying no matter if it is aimed towards the gay kid or the nerdy kid.  Bullying ain't cool.  Just don't do it.  I also have a thing for drag queens so I grabbed a couple friends and off we went.  

Nina West

We originally thought the show started at 11:00 pm.  PM are you fucking kidding me?  You gotta be nuts, but I love drag queens so I took a long nap before the show and was ready to stay up till midnight.  But when we got to Axis we found out that the show was actually supposed to start at midnight.  WTF!!  I can't do this, I can, but I can't, I am so old, how will I go on?  I got here at my bedtime and now the show doesn't start till midnight.  But somehow I survived.  The drag queens were good.  I think I should be one.  They can't really dance and they just lip sync and that is right up my alley.  I even got to meet the fabulous Unique. 


Alex "Unique" Newell

A fun time was had by all.  But this blog isn't about the fun that I had.  Oh no...  This blog is about why I love drag queens. 

And here is the reason I love drag queens...  They are who they are.  They are exactly who they want to be.  They don't worry about what people think.  They know who they are on the inside and they are that person on the outside as well.  I am mesmerized by them on stage.  I wish I could be so bold.  I understand that they are in "costume" and playing a "role" but they still do some pretty amazing things.  Things that I don't think that I could do even with a costume to hide behind.  These women are advocates and role models.  They do all this while dressing in a manner that may not be accepted by society.  Makes me feel lazy.  I feel good about the person I am.  I have few hardships.  The only minority group that I am in is that I am a woman.  And with all these things on my side, I still can't compare to the accomplishments that these women have.  And so I tip my hat to you.


The Smooch has left the building...

Not only did The Smooch leave the building, he left the city, county and state.  The Smooch decided to drive to Long Island, New York to visit his family.  His dad broke his foot this summer and needed to get some stuff done around the house, so The Smooch decided to go and help out.  He planned on being gone about a week but it ended up being about 10 days.  Rumors started flying.  "I think she killed him and buried him in the back yard.  New York is just a cover.  He is never coming home."  That wasn't true, I assure you.  The Smooch is alive and well.  But as his trip kept being extended, I thought maybe The Smooch's mother had kidnapped him and was keeping him for manual labor.  She confirmed that he was locked in the basement.  But she finally released him and he is back home.  I assume at least.  Between naps and football, I haven't actually talked to him yet.

This is what our dogs looked like when I had to
tell them their daddy had extended his trip again.  So Sad.

But enough about him, this is my blog.  And below is the list of things that I had planned on doing vs the list of things I actually did while The Smooch was away.
 
Things I Planned Today While The Smooch Was Away

1. Sleep a lot.
2. Eat tons of Jeni's Ice Cream.  If you have never tried, you have never lived.  Get a second job before you try it because you are going to need it to pay for your new habit.  But it is worth every penny!
3. Eat Taco Bell every day.  Gross I know but shut up and get your own blog.
4. Work on all my projects.  The Smooch refers to these as "crafts" but they are not.
5. Relax.
6. Enjoy single life again.

What I Actually Did

1. Run around like a crazy person.  Before doing any evening activities, the dogs had to go out first.
2. Go to bed late every night.  After being gone all day and night, I felt bad keeping the dogs crated all the time.  So I stayed up late so they could play.
3. Eat crackers for dinner, because we don't have food at our house.
4. Water the new sod and new plants every day while being eaten alive by mosquitos.
5. Walk the dogs. 
6. Clean up dog poop and pee.  Mostly off the bottom of my feet because that's usually how I discover my dogs little surprises.
7. Had a very small taste of what it might be like to be a single parent.
8. Pee with six eyes watching me.  That goes for just about everything else I did that week.
9. I did actually eat a lot of Jeni's Ice Cream.  Because a girl's gotta eat and there was no food in the house.

Random Stuff That Happened This Week - Week of September 9, 2013

Blogging is an interesting concept.  The weeks that I do nothing mean I have lots of time for blogging but a lack of items to blog about.  And weeks were I am really busy, mean no time for blogging.  This week was a little of the former.  Not much going on with nothing to write about.  The Smooch is out of town this week, leaving me home alone.  I enjoyed the time without him but I do miss him.

This lack of nothing to do sent me up to my parents on Friday night.  Going to my parents house is something I have always enjoyed doing.  They live in the country and life in the country is a little quieter and calmer than city life.  Everything moves a little slower.

 

The above is true for the country but not my parents house.  My parents are a little on the crazy side and their house is always a little crazy too.  My mom loves dogs.  My entire life, my mom has always had a handful of dogs.  Recently she started working with a dog rescue group called Ohio Fuzzy Pawz.  This means that on top of the massive amounts of dogs she already owns, she always has a couple foster dogs that she is taking care of.  I really don't know how she does it.  Some of the foster dogs come with a lot of challenges.  They have behavioral issues and some of them have medical problems that need to be dealt with before they can be adopted.  My mom keeps track of all of these dogs problems and makes sure each one gets the right special dog food for a food allergy or the medication they need for a skin condition.  I don't know how she does it.

So, going to my parents' house becomes an adventure.  This weekend, my mom had eight dogs.  EIGHT!!  I of course had my three in tow.  Yep, you counted correctly that makes eleven.  Have you ever had to keep track of eleven dogs.  Every time you let them outside, or inside or whatever, you have to count and make sure all dogs are accounted for.  And if that's not bad enough, seven of the eight are Shih Tzus.  Below are pictures of all the dogs.  I am not sure if I got all the right names matched up with all the right dogs.

My Mom's Dogs

Sophie - The Non-Shih Tzu

Mr. T

Zeus - God of all dogs



Rhet

Laylie

The Foster Dogs - ADOPT A DOG!!
 


Bono - Currently up for adoption!!

Randi - Currently up for adoption!!

 

Andrew

 My Dogs

Harley (Back), Dominic (Front Left), Maddie (Front Right)

That's quite a house full.  But it is nice because there is always someone to love, someone to cuddle with and someone to play with.

But dogs isn't the only thing I did while home for the weekend.  My dad and I hit the local high school game.  It is always funny to go back to high school events.  The people seem to be the same except they are older and fatter.  I am now old enough to have friends with kids in junior high and high school.  That makes me feel old.  I hope for all the adults around when I was in high school that I didn't act the way high schoolers do today.  I am sure I did but I would like to believe that I was more mature than that.  Seeing them in their own environment (just call me Jane Goodall) makes me appreciate my life a little more.  I think every one of the cheerleaders had the same haircut.  Long hair down to mid back, big ass bow holding it all back.  Conformity much?  I just want to grab them and say "Try being an individual, it's pretty cool!!"  But they would just call me weird and they'd probably be right.  But the difference is that I don't give a crap's ass (I don't know what that means either) what they think.

I ended the visit with my parents with a trip to the local ice cream shop, Suz-E-Q's.  My parents go there every Saturday without fail.  I go for the ice cream.

 

My choice of the day



My dad's indulgence


One final note to send you into the week.  I read a lot of random stuff on the internet and Facebook.  Mostly random articles and blogs.  Well this week, I happened upon the funniest advertisement for a product I can't believe exists. I discovered PooPouri.  Watch the YouTube video.  It's worth it.  I haven't yet purchased this product, but I will.  And I'll let you know how it works.

 

Until next time...

Poke The Bear

The force that has become my husband (further referred to as The Smooch) and I has no one to blame but Match.Com. We met online. Match handpicked us and delivered us to each other's inboxes. The Smooch "winked" at or marked me as "interesting" or whatever the lingo is these days. And then of course, he did nothing else. I was notified that The Smooch was "interested".  I waited a couple days but he never emailed me. I finally had to make the first move and email The Smooch.

Our first date was a lunch date on Friday, January 14, 2011. We met in person, for the first time at Spagio in Grandview. I was very busy at work that day and actually scheduled lunch with The Smooch between meetings. The first date went well. The conversation was great. I texted The Smooch the next day to see if he wanted to meet up again. He said yes.

Four weeks later, I knew that I had met the man she was going to marry.

On February 11th, I gave The Smooch a CD. It was not a Valentine's gift, just a gift given right before Valentine's Day. The Smooch retaliated. I specifically asked him not to do anything for Valentine's Day. The Smooch also made me a CD and homemade brownies. He had them delivered to my work by his unsuspecting intern.

Not long after this, The Smooch and I began playing a game they lovingly referred to as "I Love You Chicken." It is like regular Chicken but instead of running straight at each other until one of us flinches, we try to "one up" each other in a loving way.
Ex. One of us might say, "I like you"
The other one would respond with, "I love you"
Then "Let's get married."
"Let's have babies."
"Let's have ten babies!"
And so on and so forth.

This game is what led them into a jewelry store for the first time. We were at Easton Town Center shopping.  And in the spirit of the game, they ended up going into a jewelry store and trying on engagement rings.  I hyperventilated. The Smooch laughed. Until he saw the prices of the rings I was trying on then he hyperventilated as well.

This is how our story began.

Random Stuff That Happened This Week - Week of September 1, 2013

This is the first episode of Random Stuff That Happened This Week.  This will be a weekly (or whenever random stuff happens) blog of funny random stuff that I witnessed.

The beginning of this week fell right in the middle of Labor Day weekend.  We did plenty.  I will save you the details of all the random labor day things but here is a cute picture of a goat.  My husband (The Smooch) and I went to the local fair where I grew up, the ever fabulous Morrow County Fair.  We saw lots of old friends, ate lost of greasy food, and saw some farm animals.  We thought about taking this little guy home with us.  But we have a two pet limit and already have three dogs.

Are you my mommy??  Am I your kid??

Tuesday was The Smooch and I's second anniversary.  I thought The Smooch was the most amazing husband in the world.  For my anniversary, he invited a couple guys to our house for a fantasy football draft. Not so amazing anymore. I even had to order pizza for the group.  Happy Anniversary Baby. I think I will invite over my knitting circle for our anniversary next year.  He later redeemed himself with flowers, a great dinner at G. Michaels and a show.  We saw Totem.  Totally worth the money.

So Sweet

My work week ended with a move day.  Part of my job is organizing the moves for all the tenants in an apartment building while my company renovates their apartments.  Friday was a move day for me.  Move days are always the most interesting part of my job. This week's move provided much entertainment for me.  There was the girl with the sink full of black sludge because she didn't want to call maintenance...  and the guy who used the spare closet like a trash can.  But my favorite must have been the guy who had a whacking stick by the front door for burglars and a knife under his bed for the burglars who got past the whacking stick.


The week ended with some adventures with sod.  Yes sod.  I will clarify for my younger readers.  When you are young, you get excited about things like shopping, sex and cheap drinks.  As you get older or more married, you get excited about home goods and lawn care.  You laugh now but just you wait.  Anyway....  our friends, decided to install sod in their backyard.  Being the great friends we are, we donated my dad's truck and our time.  I had to drive the truck, being the only one of the four to be able to drive a stick shift.  So the husband in our friend duo and I drove to the sod place to pick up the sod.  We had loaded all the sod into the truck.  The tires didn't look so good.  I called my dad to see what the weight limit was on his truck.  He said 8-900 pounds.  How much sod is there, he asks.  I tentatively say 1800 lbs and hang up as quickly as I can.  So getting the sod became a two day adventure.  But while we were getting the second batch, The Smooch and  the wife in the duo laid all the rest of the sod.  When we returned, there was no yard left and still lots of sod left.  So we drove the sod to our house and installed it there.  If you have ever laid sod, you know it needs lots of water.  I mean LOTS of water.  We had loaned our sprinkler to our newly sodded friends so we were in a pickle (metaphorically speaking).  Below is the results of some genius thinking, if I do say so myself.

New sod, no sprinkler? No problem. Good thing your wife grew up in hillbilly country.

And that is just a sampling of all the random things that happened this week.  Stay tuned for another exciting episode...

Detecting Illegal Drug Activity

That was the name of the class I took today at work.  I work in affordable housing or low income housing, whatever you want to call it.  But basically we take those without homes and give them homes.  This line of work often leads to interesting training classes.  I have taken a couple drug awareness classes and am embarrassed about how little I knew about drugs.  I thought I was pretty street savvy but it sounds like I need to stay on the sidewalk a little longer.  Or maybe I just need to watch some additional episodes of Breaking Bad.  I already watch Justified so I understand the hillbilly weed trade but that doesn't really help me understand the urban drug trade.

Today's class was how to tell if drug activity is happening on your property, what to look for and what the signs are.  A couple cops taught the class and they even brought in a dummy proof kit that showed what each drug looked like and they had "samples" on hand for us to look like.  All the class really taught me was that I will never be able to sell crack or cocaine because I can't cook.  I will never be into meth because I flunked high school chemistry.  And if the plant in my office is any indication, I will not be growing pot in a closet any time soon.



My Office Plant

I guess I better keep my day job a little longer.



Button Free, Zipper Free, Care Free

I am (almost) ashamed to admit that I purchased a pair of pants with the slogan "Button Free, Zipper Free, Care Free."  A search for new dress pants took me to Kohls.  I was on a time frame so I just grabbed a bunch of black pants in my size and off to the dressing room I went.  I tried on a bunch of pants and few fit comfortably.  But one did, the Lee Slimming Pull on Bootcut Pants.  You guessed it, elastic waist band pants (EWBP).  But they were so comfortable.  I was in pant heaven.  They were comfortable, they fit great, they looked good and they made me feel good.  But could I wear EWBP?  I am in my 30s, my low thirties even.  I'm young, I'm hip, I cool (well maybe not so much).  But still, the only pair of paints I own without a zipper are a pair of sweatpants.  But has I stood there looking in the mirror, I thought to myself, damn, are these pants comfortable.  I decided what the hell.  I would buy the pants.  I figured I could where them on days when I really didn't care what I looked like or when I was feeling fat.  But they were so comfortable, I decided to buy two pairs.  So I grabbed a second pair and headed to the check out counter. 

When I got to the check out counter, I double checked the paints that I had and discovered that I had two different sizes.  So back to the dressing room I went to confirm my size.  Once I was back in the dressing room and back in those pants, I wonderful feeling came over me.  I was again in pant heaven.  I did the 360 turn to check out my new pants.  I did a couple squats and even sat down.  Damn, were these pants comfortable.  I decided to live and die in these pants.  It was tough taking them back off and putting on my original pants.  The button seemed to dig into my stomach.  I couldn't breath.  I just wanted to put back on my new EWBP.

Now that I had determined my size, I went back to the rack to get a second pair in my size.  This is when I discovered that they come in different sizes.  I ended up leaving Kohls with not one, not two but four pairs of EWBP.  Two blacks, one khaki, and one jean pair.  Yes, I have a pair of elastic EWB Jeans.  They are just like those PajamaJeans but cooler and actually are real pants.

After spending an entire week wearing nothing but EWBP, I am hooked.  At first I was ashamed.  Grandmas wear EWBP.  But a quick survey from my coworkers proved, that they didn't look like grandma pants.  They looked like any other pair of pants.  And I am so comfortable at work I don't care what other people think.  I even have a friend who is an EWBP convert.

As anyone else out there tried these pants?  Or am I only.  I am hoping to start an elastic waist band pants support group for all those who love EWBP.  Inquire within.

Button Free, Zipper Free, Care Free?  Why yes, thank you.

What am I doing... Or not doing?

I decided to write a blog back in May 2011.  That lasted about a week.  So I am going to try again.  I feel that I would be a good blog writer if I could just stick with it.  But blogging is harder than I thought it would be.  What do I write about, who is my audience, how long should each blog be?  The questions go on and on and truthfully, I don't have the answers.  So in true nature to who I am, I am just going to go for it.  My hope is that my random ramblings are just that.  I am always trying to come outside my comfort zone in hopes that my comfort zone becomes so large, I rarely feel uncomfortable.  Opening up to the outside world is something that is outside my comfort zone.  For now, I will hide behind my anonymous blog.  As we all know, it is easier to be brave when no one can see you.  So here goes nothing....