Garanimals

I am OCD about a lot of things: how towels are stacked in the closet, sorting mail by size before opening, all silverware MUST be handle side down in the dishwasher and don't bother putting dishes in the dishwasher because I'll reorganize it as soon as you walk away.

Another hangup I have is my clothes. My pants must be folded a certain way and my closet is bizarre. My shirts are hung facing the same direction and they are organized by color. When Dave does laundry, I can tell within seconds if he hung a shirt of mine or put pants away. It took a few times before he has figured out its easier on all of us if he just stacks my laundry on our bed and I put it away.

You would think with as organized as my clothes are I could get dressed quickly and generally look put together. Sadly, I have just enough fashion sense to not stand out. I quit wearing shoulder pads, I don't roll up my pant legs, safety pins are functional instead of decorative, and I've never worn a Tweety t-shirt.

Every top in my closet is a solid color and I rarely venture out shopping on my own. I stand in front of my closet for a long time trying to come up with some new way to mix it up and still end up pairing the same things together. I was proud of myself when pushed myself out of my comfort zone and bought red and pink. I am incapable of looking at a pattern and deciding if its good or not. Patterns always look fantastic when other people wear them, on me it looks as wrong as a sweater on a cat.

Yesterday was yet another example. I used Google to figure out if it was OK to wear grey and blue together or if I would look like a huge bruise.

Since I will never be wealthy enough for my very own personal stylist, I think someone needs to make Garanimals for adults.

The Scofflaw

Working from home isn't easy. Its tough to balance work and home and not ignore one side too much. So I start very early, so early the birds haven't started singing yet.

This morning I flick the power button on my laptop and stare at the computer trying with my uncaffeinated head to remember my new password.

sonofabitch.

Without it, my work laptop is less useful than a brick thanks to the hard drive encryption software my company forced me to install. What, they think I have sensitive data and that I'm irresponsible enough to let my laptop get stolen?

ok. maybe they're right

Tscreen taunting me with "incorrect login" also includes the helpdesk phone number. Good thing they do, I wouldn't have the slightest clue how to get a hold of them because all of that information is in the laptop.

"We're sorry, the helpdesk hours are from 6am to 9pm mountain"

sssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhIT. hour and a half to wait. I'm an all powerful administrator but I still cant get into my own damn computer.

I spend the time trying every possible curse word combination I can think of because that's how I roll. It helps start my morning off right when I get to curse at my computer as I'm getting started.

90 seconds after the helpdesk opened I was dialing their number.

I spend the next 20 minutes on the phone using their secret backdoor account and password into my computer.

helpdesk lady: normally windows would give you a prompt to change your password but since you're at home it wont and you'll be locked out of your computer again the next time you reboot. You'll need to be in the office to get it reset. Just call us back and we'll do this again

thanks a pantload lady.

After I got the kids up I loaded them into the car so they could take a trip down to my office to call the helpdesk. again.

We barely make it a half mile when I notice a cop car has pulled up behind me and is following very closely.

SHIT. the tags are expired. I was planning on getting them yesterday. you know when everything else was going down

me: Hey Alex, check it out. We're about to get pulled over. Wait for it... wait for it... Ahhh there's his lights.

Rolled down my window when the cop walks up and a light bulb goes off in my head.

me: I know, my plates are expired. You're Tony right? Dave is my husband. You were at my wedding.

cop: Hey, I knew the registration that came up on my computer was familiar. How is Dave? Is he still doing the pistolsmithing?

a minute or two of chatter continues...

me: do you want my license?

cop: nah, you're good just get them taken care of.

hell yes.

Dave forwards me a text a few minutes later. The cop had tattled on me.

"Just stopped your wife!! Lucky I know her or I'd throw the book at her!!"

Lucky for me Dave still has friends on the police department.

Rhyme Time

Alex: "Hey Mom, lets rhyme words"

Me: "sure, how about... blue"

Alex: "true"

Me: "um, water"

Alex: "hotter"

me: "Toad"

Alex: "chode"

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

me: "whoops, how about load, mode, code?"

Shake it

The last couple of nights Olivia has crawled up on my lap and wants to rock for the last few minutes before bedtime. The moment she gets settled her eyes start to droop.

I'm faced with the choice, keep her awake and cut snuggling short, or enjoy the moment and rock my sleepy girl until my arms fall asleep then try to hold her (still sleeping) on the toilet and get her to pee without letting her fall in.

I can't bring myself to kick her off my lap.

************************************

I was listening to my ipod cleaning up after dinner. Olivia wanted to listen to music just like me. Turning on the radio wasn't good enough, she needed earphones too.

Of course she needed earphones... and like a good mom (sucker) I spent 20 minutes tracking down a pair that doesn't fall off her head.

I clipped my little ipod shuffle I use for running on her shirt, checked the volume and crammed most of the headset cord into her shirt so she wouldn't trip on it.

I ran through a mental list of songs I had on the ipod while she danced around the kitchen and I crossed my fingers that a couple of songs wouldn't come up in the play list.

Next thing I know she's shaking it pretty good and kind of humming.

I knew exactly what she was listening to before she sang a single word.

"Shake it like a Polaroid picture"

Tween

Last year I read Eragon and loved it. When I went to the bookstore to get the second book I had the embarrassment of being led with all of my judgemental attitude to the tween section by a gum snapping little teenager. I remember leaving the store thinking I would have been better off borrowing the books from my 12 year old niece.

This past weekend my sister borrowed some books from the very same niece and started reading one aloud in the car on the way home from Minnesota. She was reading Twilight.

(Getting read to helps break up the drive and saves us from playing a competitive Alphabet Game in sparsely populated northern Iowa.)

It was clearly another tween book. The writing was kind of juvenile and the story is predictable. I still couldn't help but get sucked in. I was getting giggly and twitterpated at every hint of romance.

We were a little over a third of the way through the book when we got back to Omaha and it killed me that I would have to wait for my sister to finish the book before I could let it take over all of my free time.

She called me yesterday morning (a little over 12 hours after she stopped reading to me in the car) to tell me she was done and offered to drop it off at my office. It sat on my desk behind me for a half a day before I picked it up and wasted the rest of my day reading.

I confessed to Dave last night that I had a new book obsession and he will probably see the book within arm's reach for a while. It didn't take long before he had it out of me that it was my niece's book, and its about teenage vampires. Dave couldn't stop laughing at me.

Sadly, I've stopped writing this twice to read a couple more pages and just knowing its less than 2 feet away is very distracting. So much for the promise I made to read only my lunch hour.

At least this time I know I wont have to face another teenager in book store. I can go directly to my niece for the rest of the Twilight Series.

call me chompers

I saw the oral surgeon last week. They took more X-Rays then gave me the bad news. He called the two bottom wisdom teeth "severely impacted" The little piece of paper they handed me describing everything had the removal labeled as "unusual difficulty" which of course jacked the price up 150%.

The teeth have also had enough time sitting in my mouth to fully develop and the nerve that gives you feeling in your chin, lips and jaw runs right past the teeth. Its possible to hit the nerve and loose feeling for 6-18 months or maybe forever. For most people that chance is 2%, for me? high risk.

Off to the CT Scanner they conveniently have set up in their office to get an idea of where exactly the nerve is. Make another appointment and let me dwell on it for a few days.

I was back in their office yesterday to get the results and discuss my options.

My screwy mouth takes over again. The nerve is on the outside of the tooth and apparently that's bad. He doesn't have enough space to remove the teeth and the likelihood of nerve damage is even higher. Higher than high risk.

They will only take the top one out and wait and see what happens with the bottom.

Hang on, I have my sad face around here somewhere...

The truly sad part will come next Monday when they take the one tooth out. I guess my insurance wont cover getting knocked out for a single tooth. I'll get to stay awake while they surgically remove the tooth with a local anesthetic. I can hear the ripping noise already.

I bet I can talk them into a Valium before they start.

leaking

I had a really shitty day at work. REALLY SHITTY. Good thing I had an off thought yesterday morning to grab my running shoes huh? Quick run after work and go home in a much better mood. These smart thoughts occurred to me after I left work of course. It was tricky changing clothes in the car right next to an industrial plant while people were leaving work.

The run didn't seem as easy as it did Sunday so I'm going back and forth between calling myself names trying to spur myself on and coming up with excuses. Oh its about 20 degrees hotter... Its later in the day... Dave's not here to make me feel more competitive...

I pushed myself hard as I round the last corner to get to the end faster. I came to a dead stop at the end of the sidewalk, bend over with my hands on my knees to catch my breath, and felt a little bit of pee come out.

I stood up and tried to squeeze every single muscle to make it stop. Nope. It just kept coming.

All name calling and excuses were replaced with one thought only.

AHHHRRRRGGGHHHHHH! PLEASE DON'T SOAK MY SHOES

I wish I could say this was the first time its happened. The first time was a little over a year ago right before I was taken off of running. I was at the gym trying to get myself weaned off the treadmill and back to running outside. At the end of my run I bent over to get a drink of water from the fountain and out it came. I got to take the walk of shame from the basketball courts, through the weight lifting area, past the treadmills to the locker room.

I know I'm not the only one that experiences this problem but its pretty apparent I need to spend some time working on my kegels.

I'm a competitive jerk

Dave and I compete at almost everything. I think it keeps our marriage healthy.

A new game on the iPod means Dave and I will play it nonstop for 3 days to see who can set the absolute top score that neither of us can beat.

Starting the slow and steady process of building up running again has inspired Dave to try running (again) to drop a few pounds and get rid of the roll he calls a backpack. I'm up to 2 minutes of running one minute walking for 3 miles taking it slowly so I don't fuck up my foot again.

(I told Dave all he probably had to do was switch the 3-6 Sam Adams beers he has every night with water and it would probably melt off without any effort. He didn't like that answer.)

Dave had his third run yesterday. He told me the route and how long it took him and while he was still talking I logged into MapMyRun.com to figure out how far it really was and what his pace was.

Last night I was laughing about my score on a dumb Facebook IQ test. The moment I left the room he was off hunting down a IQ test we could take to see who is smarter. I got to gloat for 10 minutes over my 134 score until he finished his test, scoring 4 points higher.

I'm going to have to come up with some kind of bake off where I can stack the deck and finally kick his ass at something.

a new kind of weapon

I spent the whole 20 minutes the pizza was in the oven patting myself on the back over the best pizza dough yet. So stretchy I could get it paper thin and see light through it without it tearing.

Perfect.

Almost.

What do you get when you forget to put yeast in the dough?

Unleavened, hard as a rock, pizza.

Passover Pizza.

9 of the 10 plagues inflicted on the Egyptians could have been skipped if they just started chucking some of my pizza. Thrown just right this thing could have taken someone's head off.

sign language

I started learning sign language when my niece was born.

Some would say "Oh how nice that is..." Me? I say I'm a dumb fuck for not learning it earlier for my sister in law. Instead I made her try to read my lips.

The more I learn the more I realize I have to use it every day all day or I forget signs and look like an idiot.

Like at the grocery store when I wound up in the checkout line with the guy that has a cochlear implant. Obviously he knows sign language so I try to show off my new skills. He knows I'm learning so he tries to guess what I'm trying to say.

I'm standing there fanning myself with my hand because I'm hot and sweaty from hauling ass through the store.

He thinks I'm saying I'm happy.

I tell him I am happy but I'm really just hot and trying to cool myself off. Except instead of saying "I'm hot" I said "I'm gay hot". I didn't know what I said until a few days later when my sister in law clued me in.

The checkout guy's laughter makes a whole lot more sense now.

Dave has tried teaching Olivia HIS version of sign language too. Unfortunately she's picking it up a little too fast.

miracle fruit

I was telling Dave about this article I read about a miracle fruit.

Me: "So you chew this thing and for like 20 minutes it makes everything taste sweet. Lemons taste like candy, that kind of thing. I guess food tastes like ass to cancer patients so they're trying it out on them."

Dave: " I should keep some in the nightstand."

a little too late now

Google is a useful tool.

a VERY useful tool.

Had I Googled before I created... I would have figured out that half of Europe would land here on my blog in search of adult women wearing diapers.

hobbit feet

Sweet Jesus I have hobbit feet.

The past few days have been warm enough to ditch the lesbian sturdy boots I've had to wear since I was released from the fugly boot and put on some sorely missed strapy sandals.

I got dressed in the dark both Monday and Tuesday morning...

While sitting in the foot dr's office waiting for him to come in, I slipped off my sandal and glanced at my foot.

HAIRY FUCKING TOES and toenails that could be mistaken for claws.

I was horrified enough to pluck my feet as soon as I got into the office.

seriously, who the fuck has to pluck their feet? apparently me.

maybe I should check my back.
gross.

I need more friends

Last night my sister invited me to go to a party with her in a little over a week.

Its at a professional photographers house... complete with wine and cheese and other fancy shit.

Real non-coworker adults to be around.

I'm already counting down the days and trying to figure out what I want to wear.

I think I need more friends.

Death of the magazine

Dave got me an iPod for Christmas. A super cute little silver nano that I loved.

Then he borrowed it when he went to a conference and decided he loved it more than me and wouldn't give it back.

He started feeling pretty guilty and that guilt worked in my favor. He came home with an iPod touch.

It is the coolest gadget. ever.

The commercials wern't kidding, this thing can do anything.

I think I'd like to read a book... There's an app for that.
I wonder what the weather is like on the other side of the country? There's an app for that.
Would I like to track my menstrual cycle? Yes, they have an app for that too.

A few nights ago I was getting ready for bed and playing with my iPod. Standing in the bathroom brushing my teeth, and washing my face, while checking email and updating my status on Facebook. Sit down for one last pee before bed and wander over to the YouTube app. Full access to YouTube conveniently organized to bring me straight to the top 25 most viewed videos and an enormous list of videos they're featuring that day.

Thanks to my iPod and YouTube, what should have taken me approximately 20 seconds to accomplish lasted long enough to make my legs go numb and make a ring indent around my ass.

I will never have a need for a magazine in the bathroom again.

ewwww

My company has decided to move my desk to a new floor. I figured I could shed some weight and throw out anything that has dust on it.

Holy crap. My desk may looked relatively empty but apparently, it wasn't.

I have found:

• Boy Scout popcorn expired 04/02
• Easy Mac & Cheese expired 01/19/05
• Policeman Pez dispenser that I haven't seen in about 5 years with one pez candy left in it
  
• Sleeve of crackers from when I was pregnant 3 years ago
• Generic ibuprofen bottle filled with what I can only assume is Vicodin
• Comet cleaner - why in the hell would I have Comet at work?
• My pink fuzzy gloves I thought I lost last winter
• A picture of me, drunk, trying to climb a palm tree in Nogales Mexico while on a business trip to Phoenix
• a pile of floppy disks that probably outweighs me
• old-timey picture of some unknown family from the Nebraska Historical Society. Looks like they wanted the whole family so they included two horses and the cow that's standing on the roof

*shudder*

drunk ballerina

My mom and sister came over late last night because they love me and surprised me with a late night latte. Yum. The kids were just about ready for bed so I thought I would act all cool and tough I am by showing off my incisions. (because the pictures were not enough??) Alex is a little freaked out by them so I was waiting to unveil them as soon as the kids heads hit the pillows.

As our night time routine progressed Alex started complaining about his stomach hurting.

me: "Pain kind of hurting or throw up kind of hurting?"

Alex: "throw up kind"

As he's circling the living room groaning he's blowing out huge farts every other step.

me: "Its gotta be gas pains. He'll be fine. Time for bed" because I'm anxious to show off my war wounds...

The kids went straight to bed. Off comes my boot and as I'm unwrapping my foot I can hear Olivia talking to Alex.

Olivia: "you ok Alax? your belly hurting? you ok Alax?"

Alex begins to cry.

Uh oh.

Dave heads in and Alex says he feels like he's going to throw up. Dave brings him into our bathroom and sits him down and heads off to find a bucket. Why? I dunno. he was already sitting next to a toilet.

Alex begins to cry louder, Dave is downstairs and I'm the dumbshit with my boot off and foot unwrapped. I do a one legged hop as fast as I can down the hall, round the corner into my room and I smell vomit.

SHIT

Get to the bathroom doorway and there stands Alex, toilet lid down and vomit covering the toilet, splashed up on the wall, and covering his poor green footie jammies.

Fuuuuuuck

Trying to balance on one foot and strip down a poor little kid freaked out about the vomit everywhere could be a sideshow in the circus. Dave takes him to the other bathroom and gets a bath started.

I do my one legged hop again to get to my boot so I can clean up the bathroom. Trucking right along at a pretty fast clip and my fucking foot catches the edge of the rug and I go flying through the air like I'm trying to sack the quarterback. As graceful as a drunk ballerina I get one extra hop in and land my ass in the rocking chair.

"holy crap that was close. I cant believe I didn't wreck."

I lowered my head and shamefully wrapped up my foot again. So much for showing off how tough I am, instead I showed off what an asshat I am.

Poor boo.

we used to be BFFs

Dear boobies,

I decided to take you bra shopping today as a peace offering. I know we haven't been getting along lately and I thought this little jaunt out would help restore the bond we once knew.

4 trips from the dressing room out into the store to fill my arms with different brands, different styles and different sizes. A full hour of standing half naked in front of massive mirrors and bright fluorescent lights trying on bras. All for you.

You let me down. I even broke down at one point and tried the Playtex "nearly" sizes hoping to fit into something... anything.

You have completely destroyed my ego.

We are no longer on speaking terms.

C.

I'm sorry you're working on Christmas Eve and listening to me

GARRAGH!

I'm a dumb ass. seriously.

Ummm, the computer isn't dead. The monitor is.

What the fuck. I've been in the IT field for 13 years and started out doing over the phone tech support moving myself up to where I am now as an IT god ruling over 400 servers and 5 petabites of data.

I had to admit my mistake to several people stuck working on Christmas Eve taking dumb ass calls from dumb ass people like me that apparently don't know their monitor from their ass hole. If they laughed at me they were at least kind enough to hit the mute button so I wouldn't hear them snicker.

I'm thrilled they will take the computer back and even pay for the shipping. I'll take the money I get back and go buy myself a sweet tricked out monitor WITH A FUCKING WARRANTY.