One of those days wherein I need coffee in order to get my coffee

I was attempting to pour my morning coffee today. All was going well at first, I had a clean cup, fresh cream... But I take sugar in my coffee. I *have* sugar, sitting right there by the coffee pot, but do you know what I added to my coffee instead?

Salsa.

Yes, salsa. Because salsa looks ever so much like sugar. Tastes like it too.

Sometimes you get the coffee, sometimes the coffee gets you.

But I don't WANNA!

I was cruisin' the want ads today, looking for a job that I'd be interested in applying for. I found one, so I went to call up my resume to send in.

I'VE DELETED MY RESUME.

*tear*

I don't wanna do up the whole thing over again! I can't find it anywhere, not in the program I wrote it in, not in any of my document histories, NADA. It's gone.

Put on the coffee, it's gonna be a long night.

I suppose it's a silver lining that my job history is brief and recent...

I'll trade you two testicles for an ovary

Well, if you're wondering why you haven't heard from me lately, it is because The Daddy has arrived on leave. Hee hee.

In other news, today we traded gender roles! He fixed dinner while I played plumber. Dinner was great, I'll let you know how my plumb job holds later.

I went back to the gym today after two long weeks of being lazy housebound during March Break. I hurt. I barely made it through my workout. I can't wait to go back tomorrow!

My hair is red. I loooove it so much. I'll post pics soon, right now it's not got any product in it and I've worked up quite a 'fro. Note to self: Curly hair + short haircut = rather believable sheep impression. Yeah. Not good.

No, it's not a metaphor

*Ring Ring!*

Me: Hello?
Friend: Hey. Whatcha doin'?
Me: Washing my basil.
Friend: "..."
Me: No, really.
Friend: Oh. Well... Ok. Bye...
Me: "..."

*click*

(Fruitflies had laid eggs on my basil, and I don't want to use bug killer on food - so I washed them off with water. What? I thought that was genius! Little buggy bastards.)

Please don't fall out, please don't fall out...

And so it begins. I'm sitting here with a scalp full of hair lightener, hoping it doesn't turn out day-glo orange like last time. I tried a new brand, and I'm going to live as a blonde for a few days until the pH in my hair settles down again before going red. Keep your fingers crossed. I'll post a pic after my shower. Be prepared.

Did I tell you all that I had to hack off a good portion of my hair? I did. See, I went and got it cut just to trim up the ends and layer it a bit, and the CRAAAAZY hairdresser... Well, she had other plans. She literally started lifting up handfuls of my hair and hacking out random clumps! I was a little paralyzed by the mounds of hair falling away from my head. It was like when Homer tried to cut Marge's hair on The Simpsons. Not good. I didn't dare ask her to fix it, I'd've ended up bald for sure! So, I had to go to another hairdresser at a different salon to try and salvage some kind of a hair-do out of it. C'mon, I looked like an electrified poodle having a bad hair day. I cried. Anyway, now my hair is pretty freaking short (not even bob length!) and it makes me really sad. Saved a bit of money on hair dye though, as I only need one box now. Sigh. Just keep that in mind when I post pics, ok? This is NOT the hairstyle I want! Def. a hair-don't. But maybe some really awesome colour will distract from that. Man I wish I still had enough length left for a ponytail. :(

Ok. Deep breath. Off to check the process! Be kind!

I have... A synopsis:

"Breasts everywhere finally find a voice in this satire that will (hopefully) make women nod their heads and men want to read along - despite the lack of pictures. It's a glimpse into the secret life of mammaries that speaks to the boob in us all."

Would this make you pick it off the shelf?

NaNoWriMo ME TOO!

(Whomever it was on NBBC that had the link to NaNoWriMo in their siggy, I am eternally indebted to you. Now come be my friend over there!)

I have joined an online community of people who each pledge to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. There's even a chapter (lol, "chapter") that meets in my area! However;

I have no plot.

I have no characters.

I have no previous experience.

But I do have determination. Plus, they say it doesn't have to be any good, as long as it's 50, 000 words. In fact, they say it will PROBABLY be very bad, and that's just how it's supposed to be.

This is gonna be GREAT!

(To check it out, click on the pic.)

He's a real fun-gi

I'm watching a documentary on fungi. I don't even like mushrooms.

- but -

there's a really cute little cartoon mushroom guy that pops up every now and then with interesting fungus facts, and it's very cute and makes me giggle and that is why I'm watching a documentary on Fungi.

Even though I don't even like mushrooms.

The Results are In:

The "Choose My Haircolour" poll is now closed. Red won, with 60% of the vote.

I can only get to red via blonde.

I'll post pics so we can all laugh at me together. :)

Stupid is as stupid does...

So, guess who is just dumber than a bag of dead cats?

I'll tell you! Me! I am dumber than a BIG bag of dead cats! See, the last house I was in was an apartment. The GAS BILL was included in my rent. Therefore, I did not need to worry my pretty little head about it. Now in THIS house, it is evidently not included. Now, WHO do you suppose didn't remember this tidbit of information? WHOO has completely neglected to pay said gas bill since we moved in? WHOOO has not worried her pretty little head about it?

Me, that's who.

And now who has had the gas shut off, and now has no heat - and more unhappily - no hot water?

Yeah.

And who already spent her available funds paying other bills and getting groceries and even splurging on her very VERY expensive brain medicine?

I'll bet you've caught on by now.

It's gonna be a chilly couple of weeks in The Mommy's house.

(I'm sure they sent me bills and even notified me about the upcoming disconnection. See, the problem is I don't actually OPEN my bills, I just look at what I owe online. I should really start opening my mail...)

Migraine Hangover

Well, those were 30 of the worst hours of my life.

I got another migraine. I hate migraines. I loathe migraines. This one included double vision and throwing up into my coffee cup. *gag*

I started feeling headache-y yesterday, but figured it was just that I hadn't gotten enough sleep lately and spent too much time staring at my computer screen. I resolved to go to bed early, but that fell through when I remembered that Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice are on on Thursday nights. Sigh. Priorities, right? I swear I went to bed right after, though.

I don't think I slept at all. The headache became a migraine at some point, and by then you're hooped. I'm totally useless once it hits that point, and even though the medicine is in the hall closet, right across from my bedroom - and right next to the bathroom for water to wash it all down, I couldn't make it. It took supreme effort just to attempt to sleep it off. It didn't work. When my alarm went off this morning, just turning over in bed to hit "off" almost made me toss my cookies. I got dizzy and nauseous. Yay. That was when I decided that March Break was starting a day early. Yes, that's how bad it was. Alas, it's not a good idea to get behind the wheel of a car stuffed with children when you are seeing two of everything, and everything is a little fuzzy around the edges. I finally made it out of bed enough to get my meds. I took my meds. I promptly threw up my meds. I took a deep breath and took more meds. These ones stayed down. I told the kids I had a migraine, and went back to bed. Once the meds kick in, I'm lucky if I can lift my own arm, let alone stay upright.

There is one thing I am VERY grateful for, though. I spend a lot of time on here exasperated with my girls. They are the #1 cause of most of my migraines, I think. BUT, when I get one, they really step up to the plate. They were so wonderful today, I was so proud. They really take care of me when I get a migraine. Lily got up, got herself dressed, and then went and got Finn out of his crib. She changed his bum and got him dressed and even made him a poached egg for breakfast! Then she took him into his bedroom, shut the door, and played cars with him for THREE HOURS while I rested. I'm tearing up just thinking about it. That is the sweetest thing, and I just love her to bits for it. The only thing I had to do was put him down for his nap (she can get him out of his crib, but she can't get him back in). She even brought me more meds and a glass of water when it was time. God bless that girl! Rachel, for her part, just stayed the heck outta the way. She got herself dressed and made her own breakfast, then went back to her room, shut the door, and has been watching TV quietly ever since. Not fighting with her sister is just the greatest gift I could ask for.

Once the second round (third, if you count the "returned' ones) of meds kicked in and my world focused enough for me to function, I walked down the street and bought them each a treat as a thank-you. I hugged them and kissed them and told them how much everything they did meant to me and how wonderful they were for it. Then I promised them McDonalds for dinner for being so good, even though the thought of McRaunchy's makes me nauseous all over again... But they sure as hell earned it today!

Now I just have what I oh-so-lovingly refer to as a "Migraine Hangover". Anyone who has had a migraine knows what I'm talking about. They just take all the stuffing right out of you. I'm tired, I'm weak, I'm just beat.

On the upside, there were supposed to be guys here pouring cement into my crawlspace today but they never showed. Praise God. I really don't think I could have handled a cement truck outside my house all day today. I'll have to make them cookies for not showing up when they said they would. That should confuse the shit out of them.

It's a sing along!

Happy Birthday to ME!
Happy Birthday to ME!
Happy Birthday to MEEEEEE,
Happy Birthday to ME!

And yes, I do accept presents. ;)

Mind your own business, old fart

Dear the snotty old bluehair at the grocery store today:

When my son is saying "Ow", it's NOT because I'm hurting him. He's meowing. Like a cat. That's why he was using that funny voice. That's why I was laughing and tickling him under the chin. That's why I was calling him "Kitty". MYOB lady, Depends are in aisle 4. Isn't it almost time for your meds back at the retirement castle? Don't make me drop-kick you back to your glory days in the roaring '20's.

Sincerely,
The Mommy

I had NOTHING to do with it

I just heard on the news that the local economy has enjoyed a 0.6% hike in consumer spending (read: shopping) since the month I moved here.

I swear honey - it's just a coincidence!

I should just shave it all and buy wigs

Lily told me today that she thinks I should make my hair red again (like my profile pic). I've gotta admit, I really love having it that colour. So now I'm torn. Naturally, my hair is a pretty dark, boring brown. Which means that I have to bleach the crap out of it, and then add the red in. Red is the fastest-fading colour, and all that bleach really does a number on your hair. Now, my sadistic hairdresser just whacked off a significant portion of my hair, so my ends are about as good as they're gonna get, but having gone red twice already and then on top of that is all the dye to match my hair back to my roots (so I'm my unnaturally my natural colour again).

I'm torn.

My husband says that if I process my hair anymore, it's all going to fall out. That scared the bejeezus out of me! Has anyone actually had that happen before??? I don't want that to happen, but I really feel that I'm a redhead at heart. I firmly believe in deep conditioning, but there's no fix for falling out!

Thoughts? Suggestions? Wanna come hold my hand?

Red is a pain in the ass to maintain, but really it's the only beauty vice I have. I don't really wear makeup, I do my own mani/pedi's (and my husband's, shhh)... I can keep it up.

Somebody make this decision for me! I've posted pics of both colours before, which do we like best?

TAB. The click of death.

I'm just going to come right out and say it. I am an indenter. I like to indent. I first got addicted in high school, and am now forced to leave my favorite five-space mark smattered sporadically throughout everything I write.

However.

The newer-fangled technology around here does not share my predilection for paragraph preposition. I used to be able to hit "tab" and - voila! - have my cursor blinky thing magically placed in the correct position to begin my paragraph. Now, notsomuch. Now when I click tab, my blinky thingy goes... Somewhere. Sometimes it makes my e-mail not go to just my darling husband, but instead to my entire e-mail address book (Sorry. You might want to... Umm... Not open that one. FYI. Thx.) Sometimes it auto-posts my amazingly clever nothingness, leaving some of you apparently scratching your heads and emailing me because the title of the post means nothing and you think I've left you out of something interesting. I haven't, but thanks for reading the entire blog to make sure. :) Sometimes that n'ere do well tab key causes the blinky thing to just disappear altogether. That's fun. I hope it goes somewhere warm on it's vacations.

Isn't this fun? This is the least entertaining post ever. At least I still know where my blinkie thing is. I wonder if it has an official name, like the little plastic dealies on the ends of your shoelaces that nobody knows what they're called. Or most of the junk under the hood of my car.

I digress.

I like to indent, and my computer won't let me. Yes, I realize that I could just MANUALLY hit the space bar five times every time I wanted an indent, and that would achieve the same result - but if you haven't figured out by now that I am far, far too lazy to do that... Well, then you haven't been paying close enough attention. I'd really rather just complain to all of you about it.

GYM: Day 4

Things I've learned thus far at the gym:

1. No, you can NOT claim you "went to the gym" if all you did was go there to sit in the hottub. They won't let me count that on my attendance card. Damn.
2. There is NO WAY TO CHEAT when you have a shadow personal trainer. He'll make you do every last one of those crunches.
3. Elliptical machines are mean. They hate me personally.
4. I have more weight to lose than I thought I did. *pout*. According to my BMI, height/weight/age/blah blah blah, I should lose aproximately 15lbs. Or I can gain 45lbs of muscle, whichever I'd prefer. I'd like to choose secret option C, buy bigger pants and pretend I've lost the weight. Then eat bon-bons.
5. I don't know the technical names of ANY of my own muscles. Luckily, my trainer guy speaks "girl". "The thing next to my other thing" is my quadracep. In other circles, it's my fanbelt. Okie.
6. A few of the machines do not have petite enough settings for someone of my stature. They require assistance. Like sitting on a phonebook. Or a booster seat. I am too wee for the gym.
7. When the dietician lady suggests I sprinkle some nuts on my morning oatmeal for a shot of protein, no - she does not mean I can substitute brown sugar and full-fat creamer.
8. You have two options: Hang your shower towel on a hook that's far away from the shower and walk naked back and forth, or take your towel into the stall with you and negate the purpose of having said towel in the first place. 8b. Big-ass shower towels are heavy when wet, and will aggravate tired, just-worked muscles.
9. There is no known cure for a flat butt. Thanks mom.
10. The people who work at the gym have all met Finnigan. They all know I'm just there to shower in peace.

What's that buzzing sound?

Because I'm new to they gym, I'm still under "evaluation". At this point, that means that I have to use a heart-rate monitor to see what kind of condition my ticker is in.

Today my resting heart-rate was 143bpm. During my work out it levels out at about 188bpm. For my age and fitness level, it's supposed to top out at 130bpm.

This almost gave my trainer a heart attack.

Hehehehehe.

So I, of course, had to mess with him. I hopped onto the elliptical machine and told him I was going to try to break 200bpm. I got to 204bpm (talking and joking the whole time, not even breathing hard) before he made me get off and sit down.

He's submitting a requisition that the recently-recaliberated machines be tested again. Even though they seem to be reading accurately for everyone else.

I told him it must be reading my IQ instead of my heart-rate.

My new gym nickname? Hummingbird.

Ok, so...

• We're moved.
• We went to Singapore, then came back.
• DH is gone on training leaving me here with the kids. Jerk.
• The kids got into the private school, and their uniforms are sooooo cute! (Pics to follow)
• I joined a gym. I even went. Twice.
• I finally got off my lazy butt and got internet service. I got bored just sitting here staring at my laptop, and I was always thinking of crap I wanted to blog about. Now I'm drawing a total blank - hence the bullet points.
• I have a great big kitchen that I LOVE. I have a little bitty bathroom that I HATE.
• Garbage pickup is only every other week. That is stupid. It should be every other day.
• Daytime TV sucks.
• I'm so happy to be back! I'm going to binge on BBC, I feel like I've lost touch with all my friends. Sad.

Look what I found!

The girls and I were walking home from the grocery store today, and came across this, all abandoned and forlorn looking:

Cool, no? I'm not sure what to do with it, but I like it. It could be a magazine rack:
(I have too many magazines, apparently)



Or it could be a towel holder thingy:
(You can never have too many towels)



Lillian suggested I use it to hold all my purses:
(No wonder I can never find my lipstick!)

Thoughts? Suggestions? Envy? ;)