Saturday, October 22, 2011
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Watch This Space
I'm going to give writing this here blog another try. Not today. Just sometime soon. So, watch this space for my endlessly entertaining stories of stupid people (mostly me) doing stupid things.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
What Repairmen Should Not Say to Me In the Future
I got nothing! I mean NO THING to write about. I’ve been staring at a blank screen for days now trying to muster up something. There’s just nothing there. I said I was back in Blogland, but I have nothing to contribute. I hope I don’t get kicked out.
Let’s see…Well, my air conditioner broke twice this summer. Yeah, that’s not expensive at all! It made me long for the days of living in an apartment, when all I had to do is call the rental office and they’d send someone over. Now I have to deal with actual repairmen myself.
Oh! So, this is kind of interesting…
The first time the AC went out, I called the repairman. After he tested the system, we discussed what repairs would have to be made. I was making arrangements to pay so I could go on to work while my sister hung around the house until he was done fixing everything. She was standing in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal, and as she was busy looking for a job online then and working on her scrapbooking designs, she asked him if he’d have to turn off the power to the house because she’d need to save her work first. He laughed and said, “No, but if you hear me scream and then the power suddenly goes off, be sure to call 9-1-1.”
My sister and I just looked at each other, she with a spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth and all the blood draining from her face. The repairman could see that something was up, so he tentatively asked, “Did I say something wrong?” See…when my sister was 13, she watched as our grandfather was being electrocuted to death, unable to do anything to help him. He was trying to rescue a man who was installing central air in PaPa’s house and who had apparently touched a live wire and was being electrocuted himself.
Electrocution jokes about air conditioning? Pretty much the worst joke you could make around us and especially her. So, yeah… He felt soooo bad! I tried to joke with him to make him feel better. I teased him about going back to the office and saying, “Okay, so you know that joke I always make with people about turning off the power to their house before I start working? ...”
Poor guy!
Let’s see…Well, my air conditioner broke twice this summer. Yeah, that’s not expensive at all! It made me long for the days of living in an apartment, when all I had to do is call the rental office and they’d send someone over. Now I have to deal with actual repairmen myself.
Oh! So, this is kind of interesting…
The first time the AC went out, I called the repairman. After he tested the system, we discussed what repairs would have to be made. I was making arrangements to pay so I could go on to work while my sister hung around the house until he was done fixing everything. She was standing in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal, and as she was busy looking for a job online then and working on her scrapbooking designs, she asked him if he’d have to turn off the power to the house because she’d need to save her work first. He laughed and said, “No, but if you hear me scream and then the power suddenly goes off, be sure to call 9-1-1.”
My sister and I just looked at each other, she with a spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth and all the blood draining from her face. The repairman could see that something was up, so he tentatively asked, “Did I say something wrong?” See…when my sister was 13, she watched as our grandfather was being electrocuted to death, unable to do anything to help him. He was trying to rescue a man who was installing central air in PaPa’s house and who had apparently touched a live wire and was being electrocuted himself.
Electrocution jokes about air conditioning? Pretty much the worst joke you could make around us and especially her. So, yeah… He felt soooo bad! I tried to joke with him to make him feel better. I teased him about going back to the office and saying, “Okay, so you know that joke I always make with people about turning off the power to their house before I start working? ...”
Poor guy!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
DMV is in the 9th Circle of Hell
I had to go to the DMV to get my license renewed. In North Carolina, if you’re under 58 you can now renew your license for 8 years, but if you’re over 58 you still have to renew every 5 years. Of course the day I went, it was about 110 degrees in the shade, and not a whole heck of a lot better inside the DMV. It was so crowded, and I stood in line for 2 hours just to get a number. The place was filthy, and people smelled so bad!
This little short man kept coming out and making these grand announcements: “If you’re here to do a driving test, we will not be conducting anymore today!”; “We do not accept credit or debit cards. You must have a check or pay in cash!”; “You are in the 9th circle of Hell and you will never escape!” Things like that.
I didn’t have cash, but I refused to get out of that Godforsaken line. I figured that once I got assigned my number, I’d still have an hour or so to run over to the ATM and get some cash. You know, in one of the worst neighborhoods in Charlotte. Finally I got up to the number assignment window. Once my paperwork had been reviewed and my number assigned, I asked how much I would need to pay. The woman looked at me in the eye and said, “Are you over 58?”
Let me stop and give you some information about me: I’m generally pretty nice. I attract people when I’m out that just tell me all kinds of things about themselves. Like the cashier girl at Target who leaned around my friend Lisa (who was paying for her purchases) to tell me (who wasn’t buying anything) all about the scratches she had on her arm. At fast food drive-thrus I’m called Sweetie, Honey, and Darlin’ a lot, and often I’m given a free dessert because they say I’m the nicest person they’ve spoken to all day.
This DMV woman, though, with her teased beehive hair-do, her Tammy Faye Baker-style makeup, and a uniform so tight that it looked like a button might pop off and hit me in the eye (thus blinding me and preventing me from getting my license renewed anyway), ticked me off! I threw down my purse and the Ikea catalog I had brought with me to while away the time I knew I’d be waiting, balled up my fists, yelled “It’s on!”, then threw myself over the counter at her, knocking her to the ground. In my mind anyway. In real life, I just said, “Really?” kind of sarcastically, then, “No. No, I’m not over 58.” So, she said, just as sarcastically, “Then it’s $32.”
Bitch!
And, my picture sucks!
This little short man kept coming out and making these grand announcements: “If you’re here to do a driving test, we will not be conducting anymore today!”; “We do not accept credit or debit cards. You must have a check or pay in cash!”; “You are in the 9th circle of Hell and you will never escape!” Things like that.
I didn’t have cash, but I refused to get out of that Godforsaken line. I figured that once I got assigned my number, I’d still have an hour or so to run over to the ATM and get some cash. You know, in one of the worst neighborhoods in Charlotte. Finally I got up to the number assignment window. Once my paperwork had been reviewed and my number assigned, I asked how much I would need to pay. The woman looked at me in the eye and said, “Are you over 58?”
Let me stop and give you some information about me: I’m generally pretty nice. I attract people when I’m out that just tell me all kinds of things about themselves. Like the cashier girl at Target who leaned around my friend Lisa (who was paying for her purchases) to tell me (who wasn’t buying anything) all about the scratches she had on her arm. At fast food drive-thrus I’m called Sweetie, Honey, and Darlin’ a lot, and often I’m given a free dessert because they say I’m the nicest person they’ve spoken to all day.
This DMV woman, though, with her teased beehive hair-do, her Tammy Faye Baker-style makeup, and a uniform so tight that it looked like a button might pop off and hit me in the eye (thus blinding me and preventing me from getting my license renewed anyway), ticked me off! I threw down my purse and the Ikea catalog I had brought with me to while away the time I knew I’d be waiting, balled up my fists, yelled “It’s on!”, then threw myself over the counter at her, knocking her to the ground. In my mind anyway. In real life, I just said, “Really?” kind of sarcastically, then, “No. No, I’m not over 58.” So, she said, just as sarcastically, “Then it’s $32.”
Bitch!
And, my picture sucks!
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Google is a Fortune Teller
Remember back in February, I did that post called “Mel Needs…”. One of the things Mel needed was “Someone like Nick to straighten her out.” It didn’t even occur to me two weeks later when I adopted my cat that I got my Nick. I don’t know how much straightening out of me he’s done, but I believe adopting him was one of the best decisions I ever made. I just adore that little fuzz-ball.
He had a rough life before he came to live with me. He was one of four sibling kittens given up to The Furball Lady cat rescue. Their names were Nick, Knack, Paddy, and Whack. As the condition for many rescue groups is that you not change the animal’s name, I’m kind of glad I didn’t end up with Whack. (although I would have been really tempted to make “That’s” his first name, and “Yo” his last because how awesome would it be to have a cat named That’s Whack Yo?) A family adopted him when he was a kitten. They signed the contract saying they wouldn’t de-claw him, but they did anyway. Apparently Nick’s family didn’t take the time to make sure that he came home to a house that was safe for a de-clawed cat and he ended up being traumatized. He had accidents on the floor (probably because they didn’t take the precautions necessary when you de-claw cats and replace their litter with material that won’t get up inside their wounds and hurt them). The father of the family apparently physically abused Nick, and the children tortured him. Finally, they returned him to the rescue because he “required too much attention”.
Despite all of that, he is such a good boy. He’s very, very loving. He “talks” a lot. This seems to bother everyone else more than it bothers me, maybe because I’m Momma. His major hobby is pushing stuff off of any horizontal surface in my house that has anything on it, whether it’s a pen, a piece of mail, one of the girls’ placemats, or, you know, a whole glass of tea. He works at it like his life depends on it, and it’s hilarious. Most of the time. That tea stain on my bedroom floor isn’t so laughable, but whatever.
It’s taken awhile, but he’s gotten used to the girls. He was afraid of them at first because I’m sure they reminded him of the rapscallions that were mean to him before. I made it clear to the girls they had to wait for him to come to them, and they did really well with it, even though I could see them just itching to pet him and see how soft he is. I knew it was going to be okay when I left for work one morning and instead of them holding onto me begging me not to go, they were lying on the floor on either side of him while he ate and everyone was okay.
Then Mocha, their dog, came to live with us. Mo is an 80-pound Boxer who has never been around cats. She is possibly the sweetest dog you could ever come across, but she didn’t know what to make of Nick. She was so curious, but we were afraid that she’s accidentally hurt him, especially considering he doesn’t have his claws to defend himself. Their first interaction left me with big bloody scratches down the front of my body because Mocha chased after Nick and I happened to be in the way. It hurt and I was really discouraged. But, we figured it out and they seem to be buddies now. Nick hunts Mo all the time, hiding behind things and jumping out at her. They chase each other up and down the stairs (the NOISE!!), but there’s no animosity anymore, it’s just play. So, that turned out all right too.
But, I’m his Momma and if I’m at home, he just wants to be close to me. I’m perfectly okay with that because he’s so darned sweet.
This Sunday night, when I got home from Diane’s house, I ran upstairs to my bathroom because long trips = full bladders. He followed me up and came into the bathroom with me, as he usually does. (I don’t remember the last time I used the bathroom alone in my house between him and/or my nieces.) He was pacing along the countertop as I was washing my hands because he was just waiting to be petted. He was rubbing his head against any surface he came in contact with, in anticipation of the scratches he was going to get when I got my hands on him. Well, he walked over to the side of the sink where I keep my electric toothb
rush and mouthwash and STARTED CHEWING ON MY TOOTHBRUSH!!!! What the…?? He was going to town on it. I was astonished! Has he done this before? How long has this been going on? I am half completely grossed out, and half completely amused. Because I KNOW if it happened to someone else I would be laughing my butt off, so how can I not think this is funny?
Luckily, my toothbrush charger has a place in the back to hold two new heads and I had one left. It probably needed to be changed awhile ago anyway (especially if TWO of us have been using it!). I moved the toothbrush to the wall shelves. Maybe I’ll put a couple of the dollar store toothbrushes I usually have for guests that forget theirs down on the countertop for him to chew on and he’ll be so distracted by them he won’t notice my real one.
Gah! I hope he doesn’t, anyway!
Some pics of my Nick...Thinking he's a meerkat, not a mere cat; being exhausted from doing all manner of kitty things; and, getting his Facebook on.
He had a rough life before he came to live with me. He was one of four sibling kittens given up to The Furball Lady cat rescue. Their names were Nick, Knack, Paddy, and Whack. As the condition for many rescue groups is that you not change the animal’s name, I’m kind of glad I didn’t end up with Whack. (although I would have been really tempted to make “That’s” his first name, and “Yo” his last because how awesome would it be to have a cat named That’s Whack Yo?) A family adopted him when he was a kitten. They signed the contract saying they wouldn’t de-claw him, but they did anyway. Apparently Nick’s family didn’t take the time to make sure that he came home to a house that was safe for a de-clawed cat and he ended up being traumatized. He had accidents on the floor (probably because they didn’t take the precautions necessary when you de-claw cats and replace their litter with material that won’t get up inside their wounds and hurt them). The father of the family apparently physically abused Nick, and the children tortured him. Finally, they returned him to the rescue because he “required too much attention”.
Despite all of that, he is such a good boy. He’s very, very loving. He “talks” a lot. This seems to bother everyone else more than it bothers me, maybe because I’m Momma. His major hobby is pushing stuff off of any horizontal surface in my house that has anything on it, whether it’s a pen, a piece of mail, one of the girls’ placemats, or, you know, a whole glass of tea. He works at it like his life depends on it, and it’s hilarious. Most of the time. That tea stain on my bedroom floor isn’t so laughable, but whatever.
It’s taken awhile, but he’s gotten used to the girls. He was afraid of them at first because I’m sure they reminded him of the rapscallions that were mean to him before. I made it clear to the girls they had to wait for him to come to them, and they did really well with it, even though I could see them just itching to pet him and see how soft he is. I knew it was going to be okay when I left for work one morning and instead of them holding onto me begging me not to go, they were lying on the floor on either side of him while he ate and everyone was okay.
Then Mocha, their dog, came to live with us. Mo is an 80-pound Boxer who has never been around cats. She is possibly the sweetest dog you could ever come across, but she didn’t know what to make of Nick. She was so curious, but we were afraid that she’s accidentally hurt him, especially considering he doesn’t have his claws to defend himself. Their first interaction left me with big bloody scratches down the front of my body because Mocha chased after Nick and I happened to be in the way. It hurt and I was really discouraged. But, we figured it out and they seem to be buddies now. Nick hunts Mo all the time, hiding behind things and jumping out at her. They chase each other up and down the stairs (the NOISE!!), but there’s no animosity anymore, it’s just play. So, that turned out all right too.
But, I’m his Momma and if I’m at home, he just wants to be close to me. I’m perfectly okay with that because he’s so darned sweet.
This Sunday night, when I got home from Diane’s house, I ran upstairs to my bathroom because long trips = full bladders. He followed me up and came into the bathroom with me, as he usually does. (I don’t remember the last time I used the bathroom alone in my house between him and/or my nieces.) He was pacing along the countertop as I was washing my hands because he was just waiting to be petted. He was rubbing his head against any surface he came in contact with, in anticipation of the scratches he was going to get when I got my hands on him. Well, he walked over to the side of the sink where I keep my electric toothb
rush and mouthwash and STARTED CHEWING ON MY TOOTHBRUSH!!!! What the…?? He was going to town on it. I was astonished! Has he done this before? How long has this been going on? I am half completely grossed out, and half completely amused. Because I KNOW if it happened to someone else I would be laughing my butt off, so how can I not think this is funny?Luckily, my toothbrush charger has a place in the back to hold two new heads and I had one left. It probably needed to be changed awhile ago anyway (especially if TWO of us have been using it!). I moved the toothbrush to the wall shelves. Maybe I’ll put a couple of the dollar store toothbrushes I usually have for guests that forget theirs down on the countertop for him to chew on and he’ll be so distracted by them he won’t notice my real one.
Gah! I hope he doesn’t, anyway!
Some pics of my Nick...Thinking he's a meerkat, not a mere cat; being exhausted from doing all manner of kitty things; and, getting his Facebook on.
Friday, July 17, 2009
There Are No GPS Coordinates for Processed Cheese
My future Grammarian…My niece Bebe knows she’s not allowed to say certain words, and is all over it when she hears someone say one. She was singing Kelly Clarkson’s song “My Life Would Suck Without You” while coloring a couple of weeks ago. She stopped coloring and said, “I know I’m not supposed to say that word, so I’ll say ‘orange’ instead.” So, now the song is “My Life Would Orange Without You.” Then, one night as the girls were talking to their father on the phone, Yaya asked him, “Where are you at?” Cori told her not to say “at”. Bebe said, “Yeah, because ‘at’ is a bad word.” I’m telling you, she is truly – no bs – the funniest kid I’ve ever met, and hopefully she’ll have really great grammar.
Sadness is a four letter word: Reid… Aw, my sweet, funny, adorable Bachelorette contestant ended up broken-hearted Monday night when Jillian kicked him to the curb because (GASP!) he couldn’t tell her he was going to propose after they’ve only known each other for 6 weeks, and really haven’t spent much of that time alone (not to mention she's been dating 24 other dudes).
Seriously, Reid, if you have any interest in a woman a little older than you are, slightly chubby, with commitment issues of her own (including our shared inability to say “I love you”), but who understands that actions speak much louder than words, you just bring your cute little behind on down to Charlotte. I think the real estate market is still pretty decent down here, so there’s a good chance you can find a job. And, I will very gladly let you call me Honeybear (even though I’m not normally big on cutesy nicknames, I’ll make allowances for you). And, as always, wear your glasses, Pookie…um…wabbit.
So lost…My sister has the worst direction in the world. Take her from the small town she’s lived in for most of her life and plop her down here? Between her natural bad direction and being in a much larger city than she’s used to, she’s gotten lost A LOT! Add to that the quirkiness of Charlotte’s roads, where one road can have 5 or 6 names depending on how far you travel on it, and where there’s a very interesting intersection at Queens Road and Providence Road (just pull it up on Mapquest). Anyway, I spend a lot of time on the phone with her with Mapquest on my computer for back-up, directing her here and there. She called me Tuesday, and when I answered the phone, she said, “I don’t want to discuss how I ended up where I am, but could you tell me how to get where I’m going?” I know she said this because twice she’s called me from the adjacent county because she’s gone the wrong way on the major road that leads to my house. Yesterday, however, I got the best call from her yet. She was in the grocery store around the corner from my house and she ASKED ME DIRECTIONS TO THE VELVEETA AND BISQUICK! I mean, how do you not laugh at that?
Congratulate me darnit!...Shellie at Layers of Thought gave me an award! It’s the Lemonade Award which is a feel-good award for blogs that show great attitude or gratitude. I’m gonna take a leap and saying that I show attitude. I’ll get to the giving later on. Thanks Shellie! Oh, wait! There’s the gratitude!
Sadness is a four letter word: Reid… Aw, my sweet, funny, adorable Bachelorette contestant ended up broken-hearted Monday night when Jillian kicked him to the curb because (GASP!) he couldn’t tell her he was going to propose after they’ve only known each other for 6 weeks, and really haven’t spent much of that time alone (not to mention she's been dating 24 other dudes).
Seriously, Reid, if you have any interest in a woman a little older than you are, slightly chubby, with commitment issues of her own (including our shared inability to say “I love you”), but who understands that actions speak much louder than words, you just bring your cute little behind on down to Charlotte. I think the real estate market is still pretty decent down here, so there’s a good chance you can find a job. And, I will very gladly let you call me Honeybear (even though I’m not normally big on cutesy nicknames, I’ll make allowances for you). And, as always, wear your glasses, Pookie…um…wabbit.
So lost…My sister has the worst direction in the world. Take her from the small town she’s lived in for most of her life and plop her down here? Between her natural bad direction and being in a much larger city than she’s used to, she’s gotten lost A LOT! Add to that the quirkiness of Charlotte’s roads, where one road can have 5 or 6 names depending on how far you travel on it, and where there’s a very interesting intersection at Queens Road and Providence Road (just pull it up on Mapquest). Anyway, I spend a lot of time on the phone with her with Mapquest on my computer for back-up, directing her here and there. She called me Tuesday, and when I answered the phone, she said, “I don’t want to discuss how I ended up where I am, but could you tell me how to get where I’m going?” I know she said this because twice she’s called me from the adjacent county because she’s gone the wrong way on the major road that leads to my house. Yesterday, however, I got the best call from her yet. She was in the grocery store around the corner from my house and she ASKED ME DIRECTIONS TO THE VELVEETA AND BISQUICK! I mean, how do you not laugh at that?
Congratulate me darnit!...Shellie at Layers of Thought gave me an award! It’s the Lemonade Award which is a feel-good award for blogs that show great attitude or gratitude. I’m gonna take a leap and saying that I show attitude. I’ll get to the giving later on. Thanks Shellie! Oh, wait! There’s the gratitude!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Where Have All the Ginsu Knives Gone?
SPLASH! ... Today my sister sent me a text message that said, “OMG! I SWEAR I just saw Michael Phelps in the parking lot of Harris Teeter.” She said people were stopping their cars and pointing at him. Apparently he was carrying a big jug of water. I thought, well sure he’s carrying water. The dude’s a merman, he can’t be too far from water at any given time. And, I’m sure that he took a break from training for the World Championships in a couple of weeks to make a grocery run in Charlotte. How great would it have been if the guy had poured some of the water from the jug over his head? He just can’t get too dry.
STAR WARS, INDEED ... Did you know that while many of us children of the 80’s were worrying about the Soviet Union using a nuclear bomb against us, Reagan and Gorbechev made an unofficial pact for our countries to band together against extraterrestrials should they attack Earth. Very, very interesting. Do you think they knew something we didn’t?
MICKEY D'S DIFFERENT STROKES ... I took my sister to an interview a few weeks ago, and while she was in the interview, I took the girls to the McDonalds around the corner. We were in a pretty swanky part of Charlotte. The girls wanted to know if they could play on the playground after they finished eating. Thinking we’d have a good hour to waste until Cori got out of her interview, I agreed. But, when we got there, there was no playground. There was, however, a grand piano in the center of the restaurant. Maybe the kids that go to this particular McDonalds in the swanky part of town play Mozart instead of in plastic tubes and ball pits.
REALLY?? ... Okay, there’s this kid whose (obviously) wonderful parents let him drop out of school so that he can focus on playing Guitar Hero professionally. Yeah, I don’t know what to say to that, except is there such a thing as a Professional Guitar Hero Player? Jenners?
COMMERCIAL #1 ... I love the hair poof-outs in the brain fart kgb.com commercial.
STAR WARS, INDEED ... Did you know that while many of us children of the 80’s were worrying about the Soviet Union using a nuclear bomb against us, Reagan and Gorbechev made an unofficial pact for our countries to band together against extraterrestrials should they attack Earth. Very, very interesting. Do you think they knew something we didn’t?
MICKEY D'S DIFFERENT STROKES ... I took my sister to an interview a few weeks ago, and while she was in the interview, I took the girls to the McDonalds around the corner. We were in a pretty swanky part of Charlotte. The girls wanted to know if they could play on the playground after they finished eating. Thinking we’d have a good hour to waste until Cori got out of her interview, I agreed. But, when we got there, there was no playground. There was, however, a grand piano in the center of the restaurant. Maybe the kids that go to this particular McDonalds in the swanky part of town play Mozart instead of in plastic tubes and ball pits.
REALLY?? ... Okay, there’s this kid whose (obviously) wonderful parents let him drop out of school so that he can focus on playing Guitar Hero professionally. Yeah, I don’t know what to say to that, except is there such a thing as a Professional Guitar Hero Player? Jenners?
COMMERCIAL #1 ... I love the hair poof-outs in the brain fart kgb.com commercial.
BUT WAIT! ... You know what other commercial I love? The Slap Chop! Vince, the ShamWow guy is back with his Garth Brooks-style mic. The lines in this thing are fantastic:
- You’re going to be in a great mood all day because you’re going to be slapping your troubles away.
- Stop having the boring tuna, stop having a boring life…Add the tuna, you’re going to have an exciting life now.
- You’re going to love my nuts!
- One, two, and pops open, like that, like a butterfly…
- The onions, with the skin? This is making you cry, it’s making me cry. Life’s hard enough as it is, you don’t want to cry anymore.
- We’re gonna make America skinny again – one slap at a time.
- Tacos, fettuccini, linguine, martini, bikini…
Monday, July 13, 2009
Evolution of the Text Message
I'm so behind the times! I've just recently started text messaging. I almost hate to admit it, but I kind of love it. It's so immediate. I don't have to keep a list of things I have to ask people. I just text them and get an answer back right away. As these kinds of things so often make me think: what did I do before? So, here's a little history of text messaging. I'm sure I left out some and I put in some things other people wouldn't agree with, but it's just for fun, right?
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
RHoNJ, Reid, and Real Estate
While I’ve been away tending to my family matters, I developed some new obsessions. Nobody who has read anything I’ve written about Rock Of Love Bus will be completely surprised by them. The best part? Now that my sister is living here, I have someone to share my obsessions with! We pile up on the sofa, do our nails, and get mad, swoon, and covet.
A few years ago, I watched the first season of Real Housewives of Orange County. It was what I call “laundry entertainment” which simply means that I ended up watching it as I was doing my laundry, walking back and forth to and from the laundry room and the closet. I don’t need to pay too close attention to shows like that because they don’t require a great deal of attention. (That and if you pay too close attention, you might actually be able to feel your soul rot clean away.) I didn’t watch the second season at all, nor did I watch The Real Housewives of Atlanta. I didn’t watch the first season on The Real Housewives of New York either, but I got sucked into the second season right at the end, and ended up liking Bethenny and totally taking her side over that fake Kelly. As I watched the marathon of RHoNY one Saturday, Bravo was playing previews for their new Real Housewives show which was taking place in New Jersey. And, it looked Craptastic!! So, much so that I just knew I had to watch it. And, it was awesome! What was crazy Danielle going to do and say next, crazily? Would Dina’s husband finally make an appearance? To what lengths, exactly, would Caroline go to protect her family? Would Theresa go through with getting fake bubbies? Would Jaqueline ever grow a backbone? With anyone?
Yeah, I’m not proud, but dang if it wasn’t fun while it lasted!
Then there’s my still on-going obsession: The Bachelorette. There are still two more real episodes and the Men Tell All episode (which they’d better make two hours like the rest of the shows this season or else…). I’ve only watched maybe one and a half seasons if you added together all the shows I’ve seen previous to this season, and they’ve all been in The Bachelorette seasons, because…well…25 shirtless men is better than 25 dumb girls in bikinis, to be honest. My sister and I are crushing on Reid, the neurotic Real Estate Agent from Philadelphia. He’s adorable. I can’t decide whether I want him to end up with Jillian, or whether I don’t want
him to so that maybe he’ll be the next Bachelor and I can watch him for a whole other season. All I know for sure is that if he ever came near Charlotte, he may well be torn completely down the middle by two sisters fighting over him. Not my sister and me of course! But, you know, some other more irrational sisters who might be more at home on the Jerry Springer show than either Cori or I would. Yeah, those sisters, not us. Um, yeah.
Reid? Call me! And, wear your glasses when you do, mmmkay?
And, my newest obsession is House Hunters on HGTV. Oh! My! God! I have my DVR set up to record every single one, both the domestic ones and the international ones. My sister came downstairs earlier today to make a sandwich, and seeing that I was once again watching a House Hunters episode, said, “Does your HGTV play House Hunters all of the time?” Like I have a programmable HGTV! (Wait, excuse me while I ponder the possibilities…first I’d move Man.jpg)
Caves and that handsome devil Jason Cameron over from the DIY network, then I’d make them do Design Star all of the time instead of just for a little while in the summer…) Anyway, back to House Hunters…I’ve made it into a game: picking what house I think would be best for the buyers, picking what house I think they will buy, and then berating them from my sofa for making the most stupid choice available to them. I love it best when they have little bohemian couples on there who want to see “vintage” houses because that’s always more interesting than seeing yet another 3 bedroom, 2 ½ bath suburban house in a planned neighborhood (not that there’s anything wrong with that).
So, there you go. Aside from all the family upheavals I’ve had, this is how I’ve spent my time away. Now, it’s time for History Channel, so I’ll see you later ‘gators!
A few years ago, I watched the first season of Real Housewives of Orange County. It was what I call “laundry entertainment” which simply means that I ended up watching it as I was doing my laundry, walking back and forth to and from the laundry room and the closet. I don’t need to pay too close attention to shows like that because they don’t require a great deal of attention. (That and if you pay too close attention, you might actually be able to feel your soul rot clean away.) I didn’t watch the second season at all, nor did I watch The Real Housewives of Atlanta. I didn’t watch the first season on The Real Housewives of New York either, but I got sucked into the second season right at the end, and ended up liking Bethenny and totally taking her side over that fake Kelly. As I watched the marathon of RHoNY one Saturday, Bravo was playing previews for their new Real Housewives show which was taking place in New Jersey. And, it looked Craptastic!! So, much so that I just knew I had to watch it. And, it was awesome! What was crazy Danielle going to do and say next, crazily? Would Dina’s husband finally make an appearance? To what lengths, exactly, would Caroline go to protect her family? Would Theresa go through with getting fake bubbies? Would Jaqueline ever grow a backbone? With anyone?
Yeah, I’m not proud, but dang if it wasn’t fun while it lasted!
Then there’s my still on-going obsession: The Bachelorette. There are still two more real episodes and the Men Tell All episode (which they’d better make two hours like the rest of the shows this season or else…). I’ve only watched maybe one and a half seasons if you added together all the shows I’ve seen previous to this season, and they’ve all been in The Bachelorette seasons, because…well…25 shirtless men is better than 25 dumb girls in bikinis, to be honest. My sister and I are crushing on Reid, the neurotic Real Estate Agent from Philadelphia. He’s adorable. I can’t decide whether I want him to end up with Jillian, or whether I don’t want
him to so that maybe he’ll be the next Bachelor and I can watch him for a whole other season. All I know for sure is that if he ever came near Charlotte, he may well be torn completely down the middle by two sisters fighting over him. Not my sister and me of course! But, you know, some other more irrational sisters who might be more at home on the Jerry Springer show than either Cori or I would. Yeah, those sisters, not us. Um, yeah.Reid? Call me! And, wear your glasses when you do, mmmkay?
And, my newest obsession is House Hunters on HGTV. Oh! My! God! I have my DVR set up to record every single one, both the domestic ones and the international ones. My sister came downstairs earlier today to make a sandwich, and seeing that I was once again watching a House Hunters episode, said, “Does your HGTV play House Hunters all of the time?” Like I have a programmable HGTV! (Wait, excuse me while I ponder the possibilities…first I’d move Man
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Caves and that handsome devil Jason Cameron over from the DIY network, then I’d make them do Design Star all of the time instead of just for a little while in the summer…) Anyway, back to House Hunters…I’ve made it into a game: picking what house I think would be best for the buyers, picking what house I think they will buy, and then berating them from my sofa for making the most stupid choice available to them. I love it best when they have little bohemian couples on there who want to see “vintage” houses because that’s always more interesting than seeing yet another 3 bedroom, 2 ½ bath suburban house in a planned neighborhood (not that there’s anything wrong with that).So, there you go. Aside from all the family upheavals I’ve had, this is how I’ve spent my time away. Now, it’s time for History Channel, so I’ll see you later ‘gators!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
The Difference Six Months Makes
This is what my household looked like January 1, 2009:
This is what my household looks like today:
That's my sister, my two nieces, my cat Nick and their dog Mocha. It's been a busy couple of months as you can see. I'm ready to get back to writing my blog and reading other's. So, if you're still around, thanks!!!
And HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!!!!
P.S. Diane, don't forget your goggles!! Fireworks are dangerous!
This is what my household looks like today:
That's my sister, my two nieces, my cat Nick and their dog Mocha. It's been a busy couple of months as you can see. I'm ready to get back to writing my blog and reading other's. So, if you're still around, thanks!!!And HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!!!!
P.S. Diane, don't forget your goggles!! Fireworks are dangerous!
Monday, April 27, 2009
Painting and Stuff
So, what did you do this weekend? I hung out with my beautiful nieces. We painted pictures, we listened to Kidz Choice on Music Choice, with an emphasis on The Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus, and Mitchie from "Camp Rock" (aka Demi Lovato). And, we tripped over my shoes the whole weekend. It started like this:
Alex - Do you have any slippers, Aunt Melanie?
Me - Yes honey. See there is a blue pair right there, and over by the bathroom there is a white pair.
Alex (opening my closet door and seeing all of my shoes organized in their cubbies) - Brianna! Here are her slippers!
Within minutes, any shoe I own that has any kind of heel on it was down on the floor and being tried on. So apparently my heeled shoes are "slippers" like I'm Cinderella or something!
Did I mention that Alex cut her own hair a couple of weeks ago? She's been growing out her bangs since last May. Her hair basically had to be glued to her head last year during her dance recital, so growing out her bangs seemed a good alternative to the helmet head. They'd just gotten long enough to reach all the way back to an elastic when she decided she was going to cut them herself. And, cut them, she did. Very short. Between her funny bangs, her snaggle-tooth, and a cut on her nose from where she fell off her bunk bed, she's a right sight. Still beautiful, though. As is Brianna, who was very huggy this weekend. She'd just put her arms up in the air and say, "Aunt Melanie, I need a hug!" Needless to say, I obliged.
Here is a slideshow of our weekend.
Alex - Do you have any slippers, Aunt Melanie?
Me - Yes honey. See there is a blue pair right there, and over by the bathroom there is a white pair.
Alex (opening my closet door and seeing all of my shoes organized in their cubbies) - Brianna! Here are her slippers!
Within minutes, any shoe I own that has any kind of heel on it was down on the floor and being tried on. So apparently my heeled shoes are "slippers" like I'm Cinderella or something!
Did I mention that Alex cut her own hair a couple of weeks ago? She's been growing out her bangs since last May. Her hair basically had to be glued to her head last year during her dance recital, so growing out her bangs seemed a good alternative to the helmet head. They'd just gotten long enough to reach all the way back to an elastic when she decided she was going to cut them herself. And, cut them, she did. Very short. Between her funny bangs, her snaggle-tooth, and a cut on her nose from where she fell off her bunk bed, she's a right sight. Still beautiful, though. As is Brianna, who was very huggy this weekend. She'd just put her arms up in the air and say, "Aunt Melanie, I need a hug!" Needless to say, I obliged.
Here is a slideshow of our weekend.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Still a Little Rusty
I have this pile of post-it notes stuck inside my little calendar book that is full of stuff I observed while I was on hiatus. The thing is most of the notes consist of one or two words that aren’t making a lot of sense now that I’m looking at them some weeks later. Like, when I wrote “Born to Run” on a sticky note, was that in reference to Bruce Springsteen’s alleged indiscretion or was it a suggestion for the title of commitment-phobic part of my autobiography (i.e. ages 10 through, well… now, I guess)?
Speaking of suggestions for the title of my autobiography… A couple of weeks ago I was listening to All My Children, and there was a scene where Erica and Ryan were stuck out in the middle of nowhere with a broken down car. Erica was asking Ryan to leave her daughter Kendall alone so that Kendall could get back with her husband Zach. Erica kind broke down and said, “How are you supposed to save a family when everyone has gone insane?” I was like, Oh. My. God! That’s the name of my biography! (Yes, I still love my soaps, especially One Life to Live, which I happen to think is one of the best shows on tv ever, and no offense to any of my family that might be reading this, because, come on, that’s funny!)
Rub A Dub Dub… A couple of weeks ago I was organizing the cabinets in my bathroom. I came across a tube of Bath and Body Works Midnight Path lotion. So, after my shower the next morning I squirted some of it in my hand and started to rub it on my left arm. I hadn’t put that much on, but I couldn’t get it to absorb all the way no matter how long I rubbed (and rubbed and rubbed and rubbed). I finally used a towel to wipe away the excess. I used a little less on my right arm, but still no matter how much I rubbed I couldn’t get it to absorb. I thought maybe it had gone bad or something, so I looked for an expiration date on the tube. That’s when I realized I had been trying to rub in creamy body wash, not lotion. Doi!!
Duck and Cover… A couple of weeks ago we had yet another bank robbery around the corner from where I work. However, this time the SWAT team didn’t surround our building and take positions on the roof because one of our temporary warehouse employees used his lunch hour to perform a little felony. Nope. This time we just listened to helicopters fly overhead for an hour. Ah…Fun times!
I’ll take a #8, Hard Shell, no lettuce… We’re getting a new fast food restaurant near work. The only ones we’re missing in our area are Wendy’s and Taco Bell. The girls at work and I were excited thinking it was going to be one of them, but when I called the Starbucks in that shopping center (of course there’s a Starbucks) to find out what fast food restaurant was being built, they said it was a Burger King. When I got off the phone and told all my office girls, there was this big, cumulative groan. Nothing against Burger King, but we want our Wendy’s and Taco Bell! There’s a Burger King about 2 miles away, why do we need another one? Whyyyyyyyyy???????? I’ve never heard so many people be so upset about a fast food restaurant in my life.
Big Bang … I love Sheldon Cooper. Love. Him. (And Jim Parsons, the guy that plays him.)
Dimitri Update…Yes, that guy from yesterday is for real. Here’s the Wikipedia entry for him.
Speaking of suggestions for the title of my autobiography… A couple of weeks ago I was listening to All My Children, and there was a scene where Erica and Ryan were stuck out in the middle of nowhere with a broken down car. Erica was asking Ryan to leave her daughter Kendall alone so that Kendall could get back with her husband Zach. Erica kind broke down and said, “How are you supposed to save a family when everyone has gone insane?” I was like, Oh. My. God! That’s the name of my biography! (Yes, I still love my soaps, especially One Life to Live, which I happen to think is one of the best shows on tv ever, and no offense to any of my family that might be reading this, because, come on, that’s funny!)
Rub A Dub Dub… A couple of weeks ago I was organizing the cabinets in my bathroom. I came across a tube of Bath and Body Works Midnight Path lotion. So, after my shower the next morning I squirted some of it in my hand and started to rub it on my left arm. I hadn’t put that much on, but I couldn’t get it to absorb all the way no matter how long I rubbed (and rubbed and rubbed and rubbed). I finally used a towel to wipe away the excess. I used a little less on my right arm, but still no matter how much I rubbed I couldn’t get it to absorb. I thought maybe it had gone bad or something, so I looked for an expiration date on the tube. That’s when I realized I had been trying to rub in creamy body wash, not lotion. Doi!!
Duck and Cover… A couple of weeks ago we had yet another bank robbery around the corner from where I work. However, this time the SWAT team didn’t surround our building and take positions on the roof because one of our temporary warehouse employees used his lunch hour to perform a little felony. Nope. This time we just listened to helicopters fly overhead for an hour. Ah…Fun times!
I’ll take a #8, Hard Shell, no lettuce… We’re getting a new fast food restaurant near work. The only ones we’re missing in our area are Wendy’s and Taco Bell. The girls at work and I were excited thinking it was going to be one of them, but when I called the Starbucks in that shopping center (of course there’s a Starbucks) to find out what fast food restaurant was being built, they said it was a Burger King. When I got off the phone and told all my office girls, there was this big, cumulative groan. Nothing against Burger King, but we want our Wendy’s and Taco Bell! There’s a Burger King about 2 miles away, why do we need another one? Whyyyyyyyyy???????? I’ve never heard so many people be so upset about a fast food restaurant in my life.
Big Bang … I love Sheldon Cooper. Love. Him. (And Jim Parsons, the guy that plays him.)
Dimitri Update…Yes, that guy from yesterday is for real. Here’s the Wikipedia entry for him.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The Best Phone Messages Ever!
Apparently these messages have been around for almost a year, but I just heard them on the radio this morning. I listened to them with my mouth hanging open in disbelief. And then found them on the internet and listened again.
It's such a surprise that Olga never called him back. He's a real catch, if he does say so himself. And, he does. Over and over and over.
It's such a surprise that Olga never called him back. He's a real catch, if he does say so himself. And, he does. Over and over and over.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
I'm BAAAAAACK
Hello? Hello? Anybody still out there?
I'm back, finally.
These are the things that happened while I was gone:
1. I had to move to a new office at work. This new office came equipped with its own nutso. But, that's another post for another time.
2. My niece Alex rode her bike for the first time, all by herself.
3. She also lost her first tooth. She asked her parents to write a note to the tooth fairy asking that her tooth be left. I was on the phone with her mom the next night as Alex was being tucked into bed. Her mom found the tooth under her pillow again that night. Seems Alex saw losing her tooth as a business venture and intended on leaving the tooth under her pillow every night so she'd get a dollar the next morning. As my friend Kelly told me, "She's got to have money to get herself cheeseburgers!"
4. My new cat Nick and I are getting along just lovely. He's the sweetest little guy and it's been a real blessing to have him though everything that's been going on the last month or so. Seems we met at just the right time. Now, if he'd just stop knocking everything off of every flat surface in my house and stop eating my plants, we'd be cooking with gas!
5. We had the dedication for the playground built in my cousin's honor. I'll do another post about that too, but it was a special day.
6. My tv boyfriend was on the Bonnie Hunt show the day after I started my break from blogging due to my personal stuff. He was adorable, but one of the Real Housewives of New York was trying to pick him up and I was just thinking: back off, be-yotch! Keep your gnarly hands off of him! (btw - I've never seen the Real Housewives of New York, so she may be perfectly pleasant, but just .... no!)
7. Now for a PSA: If you have someone in your life that's suffering from depression and won't do anything to help themselves, please help them get the help they need. They might not appreciate it at the time (and might even scream and yell at you and say they never want to talk to you again), but once they begin to get well, they will thank you.
I'm back, finally.
These are the things that happened while I was gone:
1. I had to move to a new office at work. This new office came equipped with its own nutso. But, that's another post for another time.
2. My niece Alex rode her bike for the first time, all by herself.
3. She also lost her first tooth. She asked her parents to write a note to the tooth fairy asking that her tooth be left. I was on the phone with her mom the next night as Alex was being tucked into bed. Her mom found the tooth under her pillow again that night. Seems Alex saw losing her tooth as a business venture and intended on leaving the tooth under her pillow every night so she'd get a dollar the next morning. As my friend Kelly told me, "She's got to have money to get herself cheeseburgers!"
4. My new cat Nick and I are getting along just lovely. He's the sweetest little guy and it's been a real blessing to have him though everything that's been going on the last month or so. Seems we met at just the right time. Now, if he'd just stop knocking everything off of every flat surface in my house and stop eating my plants, we'd be cooking with gas!
5. We had the dedication for the playground built in my cousin's honor. I'll do another post about that too, but it was a special day.
6. My tv boyfriend was on the Bonnie Hunt show the day after I started my break from blogging due to my personal stuff. He was adorable, but one of the Real Housewives of New York was trying to pick him up and I was just thinking: back off, be-yotch! Keep your gnarly hands off of him! (btw - I've never seen the Real Housewives of New York, so she may be perfectly pleasant, but just .... no!)
7. Now for a PSA: If you have someone in your life that's suffering from depression and won't do anything to help themselves, please help them get the help they need. They might not appreciate it at the time (and might even scream and yell at you and say they never want to talk to you again), but once they begin to get well, they will thank you.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Gotta Go
I’m going to be taking a break from blogging for awhile. I’ve got a family situation that’s taking up a lot of my time and energy right now and I need to cut back on anything that isn’t essential. I’ll try to check in here and there as I get a chance, but I really need to give most of my attention to what’s going on in my real life and work towards making it better.
Hopefully I’ll be back soon!
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