Ring In Already!!!

We are currently on the road heading Back East to visit with the Outlaws for the holidays.
I'm sure I'll have something to tell when I get back.
10 days can't be completely uneventful, right???
In the mean time, have a great Christmas and a fabulous New Year!!!!
Come on 2011!!!!!!!!!

Um, Yeah

F has placed my present under the tree. Do not be fooled by its size, or anything else for that matter.

So, This box with Painter's tape? My present.

 It could be empty for all I know, or filled with my own clothes.

FedUP *Updated*

I ordered F's Christmas presents online from Franklin Covey. I ordered them back on the 9th. They shipped on the 9th as you can see.  What's killing me is that they've been sitting at the FedEx warehouse TWO TOWNS over for the last FOUR DAYS. They were suppose to be deliver on the 17th to my work, which I figured would be easier, since we are here all day. When I left at 6pm on Friday night, NOTHING.
FEDEX, WTF??? FOUR DAYS to go like 20miles?? SERIOUSLY????



Detailed Results Notifications Tracking no.: [redacted] E-mail notifications



Arrived at FedEx location


FEDEX SMARTPOST [redacted] Shipment Dates


Ship date Dec 9, 2010


Destination


Shipment Facts Help Service typeFedEx SmartPost


Weight1.1 lbs/.5 kg


StatusPieces Date/Time Status



All shipment travel activity is displayed in local time for the location




No entries found
 Date/TimeActivityLocationDetails:
Dec 14, 2010 10:02 PMArrived at FedEx locationFEDEX SMARTPOST [redacted] (TWO TOWNS OVER)
Dec 13, 2010 3:32 PMDeparted FedEx locationFEDEX SMARTPOST NEW BERLIN, WI
Dec 13, 2010 4:23 AMArrived at FedEx locationFEDEX SMARTPOST NEW BERLIN, WI
Dec 11, 2010 2:10 AMDeparted FedEx locationFEDEX SMARTPOST DENVER, CO
Dec 10, 2010 3:37 PMArrived at FedEx locationFEDEX SMARTPOST DENVER, CO
Dec 10, 2010 3:03 AMDeparted FedEx locationFEDEX SMARTPOST SALT LAKE CITY, UT
Dec 10, 2010 12:06 AMArrived at FedEx locationFEDEX SMARTPOST SALT LAKE CITY, UT



*****I put in the WRONG ADDRESS people!!! FedEx sent it back to the post office (huh?) on the 18th. The Post Office is so on top of things, they sent it back THIS MORNING. So If I had figured this out earlier, I may have saved it and myself.  They are canceling the order, re-ordering and now, because I'm a butt head, instead of the deal I originally was getting, FREE SHIPPING, I'm now paying $8 to have it expedited!! It should be here by Wednesday. Keep your fingers crossed!!!**********

Thanks-giving Me a Stress Twitch

I opted to Adult Up and host Thanksgiving this year. After the first year I did it, and almost killed my then BF (now hubs) my family was a little skittish. I assured them that there would be no repeat of a death match. All would be well, I had it all under control. Turkey? BAG, no basting required, painless.  Martha Stewart was providing the mashed potato recipe(somewhat doctored by me). Real Simple was providing a REAL SIMPLE green bean with bacon vinaigrette recipe. Mom provided the stuffing recipe, and the apple pie recipe. The grocery store provided the brown and serve rolls. "I GOT THIS" was my mantra. F insisted on coming along to do the grocery shopping. It is times like these that I wish he was as uninvolved in the kitchen as most husbands are.  I had a list that he keep wanting to deviate from, annoying. Then he insisted that he would go get all the fruit and vegetables because he a) knows better and more importantly (to him) b) he could get it cheaper at the fruit market. FINE.
I had the day before thanksgiving off. My PREP Day. I had at least 4 items I planned on checking off my list that day.  And that went downhill the minute I over slept. Until 11:30am. Yeah. Guess I needed it. I got up, showered and strapped on my "apron". One of F's old dress shirts with the sleeves removed. Hey, what can I say? When you've got the boobs I've got, you need more coverage that the average apron.  And I was OFF! to the couch to watch TV while I peeled and cored apples for the pie. If you bake apple stuff? Or any good sized fruit that requires peeling; You NEED one of these:

Time Saver!!

Then I went on to make the pie crusts, my second attempt only at making pie crust, ever! My brother laughed at me when I called about the crumb topping recipe, "Aren't you like 36? and you've never made pie crust before?"  Apple pie crust came out pretty well! I filled it with the apples and placed it in the freezer downstairs since the fridge was FULL. I moved on to the chocolate pie. At the rate I was going I knew I could still get the potatoes done and in the crock pot for the next day where they would just be warmed up through out the day. SCORE! Less stress baby!!!
Um, yeah. Not so much.
Being my mother's daughter I was all about making everything possible from scratch. The pie crusts, the potatoes, etc. I placed the second pie crust in the oven and while that baked I started the COOKED pudding, not INSTANT. My timing was near on PREFECT! Pudding finished just moments before the crust! Another SCORE! I was in my happy place! I could do it all bitches!! I was contemplating making dinner before F got home from work as well! I was feeling that good about my progress.
Pudding was cooling on the back of the stove. Pie crust was removed and placed on top of the stove.
And that is when it all fell apart.



PING! PING! PING! Yes, those are the sounds of glass pie plate hitting glass top stove

 



Amazingly I had the presence of mind to take pictures for you

 

My mother insisted I could NOT just place the crust in a new pie plate

Apparently, from what SIL who works for a glass company told me later at Christmas dinner, the minuscule drop of milk that was on the stove top created a vacuum with the glass pie plate which caused it to break. (yes I saw the milk droplet and thought nothing of it). At 4:30pm the night before Thanksgiving I found myself at the grocery store. OMG. What a crazy place!!! I raced down the aisle picking up things I had forgotten. I almost cried when the shelf where I purchased the two pie plates two weeks (at TWICE THE COST!!) before were EMPTY.  I had made up my mind to skip it and just use the metal pan I had at home when I saw a kindly looking employee. She assured me that there were more pie plates! But just WHERE, now that's the question??????? My heart sank again as she took to the meat section of the store. WHAT?? Who places a pie making display in the meat aisle!!!???
I stood in line with everyone else in town, the express lane was not so express.  I rushed home to start again on the crust. By now it was after 5.  The crust? Went in the trash. The two recipes are right next to each, one for two 8in pies and one for two 10in pies. I got them crossed and didn't add enough Crisco. TRASHED.
Things were going downhill fast. I still hadn't riped up and seasoned the bread so it could stale overnight. The potatoes were still in the bag. I started a fresh crust. It was super thin, but I was tired and hadn't had any dinner, so I patched it together, literally, and stuck it in the oven. By now the pudding was beyond set and cold. Lovely. Thankfully F had seen the need and started in on the bread for the stuffing.  When it came time to put the pudding in the crust, there wasn't enough pudding. The pudding was a good inch lower then the edge of the pie crust. It looked bad. Luckily I found a box of instant pudding in the cupboard, that however only brought the level up sightly.  I was on the verge of tears as F stated, "Just go to the store and get another one." He apparently has never been to the grocery store the night before Thanksgiving. Or made cooked pudding. I refused to go. I was done. I was giving in. Admitting defeat. I covered the pie and found room in the fridge for it.  I was dead on my feet. I couldn't think. I knew there was no way I could do the potatoes without staying up until midnight. It was already nine.  I cleaned up the kitchen, threw a few decoration up and called it night.
I figured getting up at 8 would give me plenty of time to do the potatoes, and green beans and get the turkey in the oven. I got up at 7:30. I should have gotten up at 6. Maybe even earlier.  I had read my mom's directions as closely as I should have, because I COMPLETELY missed the time line for making the stock.

Her exact directions: "(...)TURKEY neck, heart, giblets to pot and simmer for 1 hour - DO NOT boil.
you can make it a day ahead or VERY EARLY on Thanksgiving morning; keep simmering on stove ALL day so you can use it to moisten stuffing that's in crock pot while it cooks. may need more water or broth as day goes on."
I completely missed the whole ONE HOUR, and VERY EARLY. Yeah. PANIC. I called on F to help, "I'm SEVERAL hours behind, I need your help!! Please do the potatoes! The directions are on the fridge."
And by " Do the potatoes" I meant mash them and add all the ingredients and put them in the crock pot to keep warm. F started reading the recipe, completely failing to notice that that morning that I had already peeled and cut them. I see him dump the cooked potatoes out and start rinsing them.
 "What are you doing?"
 "It says they need to cool enough so I can rub the peels off (oh Martha, really? REALLY?) and then cut them up."
"F, look at them, they are already peeled and cut. Just mash them and add the stuff."
He looks at me, looks at the recipe, and starts to walk away, leaving the potatoes in the strainer.
"What are you doing NOW?????"
"They can cool, then I'll mash them later."
"No. Mash them, Now Please. They are easier to mash when hot (i have no idea if that is true.)."
"Fine."
"You'll probably have to do them in the crock pot."
Somewhere along the line he had add water to the crock pot. I had no idea how truly clueless he was about making real mashed potatoes.
He mashes the potatoes and starts to walk away again.
"You're done already???"
"Yeah, about 2 I'll add the stuff in and turn them on for dinner."

Mind you, at this point it is probably closing in on noon.

"Um, no. You need to do it now."
"It can wait, Trust me."
"No, it CANNOT wait. Dinner is at 3, do you really think they'll heat all the way back up in an hour??????"
"We can turn it on High." (his answer for any cooking temp, I swear to god.)
"F. PLEASE just do as I ask, OK?"
Grudgingly he complies.
I won't even go into the issues and arguments he gave me about making the stuffing. BREAD stuffing, something he has NEVER made in his life, and yet he KNEW how to do it!! (sarcasm in case you missed it) And then he questioned my brother when he arrived because he refused to believe I knew what I was talking about.
Long story short? I under estimated how long the turkey needed to cook. At 2 o'clock the timer still read 2 hours cooking time left. We were suppose to eat at 3.
At 2 o'clock when family started to arrive I was still in my yoga pants and a Renaissance Festival T-shirt.
At 2 o'clock when SES (martha stewart jr) arrived, I immediately put her to work making the Real Simple Green Beans with Bacon Vinaigrette recipe which was to be served cold, but only the beans, not the vinaigrette. Which was also cold, when we ate 2 hours later.
At 2 o'clock the apple pie was still frozen solid. I forgot to take it out of the freezer in the morning. I had planned to cook it in a HOT oven while we ate dinner. I was of course PETRIFIED that putting an extremely cold glass dish in a hot oven would result in yet another pie plate disaster (see pics above). I realized I could set it on a trivet on top of the hot stove to thaw.  It worked, mostly.
At 3:30 we decided that the turkey meet the temperature requirement and ES_BIL started to carve away. He hit pink meat close to the rib cage. Luckily we had enough cooked meat to feed everyone. The mashed potatoes were watery because I had put the lid on the crock pot to keep the heat in, and the condensation dripped back down into the potatoes. Who knew?
F forgot the salad and had to run out minutes before dinner and buy some.
So let's re-cap shall we?
Broken pie plate setting the schedule back by several hours.
Under cooked turkey.
Frozen apple pie.
Cold veggie dressing that was suppose to  be hot.
Watery potatoes.
Forgotten side dish.
Argumentative husband(when he wasn't being helpful.)
Me on verge of nervous breakdown to the point that ES keep rubbing my back telling it will all be ok and they didn't care if we ate an hour later.
The problem chocolate pudding pie crust? Tasteless.

At least my table was pre-set and looked pretty.



We went to four different stores before we found that table cloth at Khol's
 where we started


Oh, and no one got sick from under cooked food.
Amen.

Commerialism at Its Best

We hosted Thanksgiving, a post unto itself, which I will bore you with later, so we had to clean the house.
As you know, F and I have been caught in a bad dream of home improvement. It is finally finished, although true to his word, you can see the bumping all along the ceiling where he added more drywall compound to cover over the tape. I'm not really sure if I was wrong to insist you aren't suppose to see the tape, or if he was wrong in how he "fixed" it, I just know it is noticeable, and I want to cry every time I look up. Anyway, you can imagine the amount of dust and dirt that had collected on the floor and walls and everywhere.  So this was a massive cleaning project. The Contractor use our floor lamp since there was no light hanging from the ceiling (yes, this was my first red flag). Between what he did and what F had done, this floor lamp was filthy. Because of the type of lamp it is, it captured much debris in its "shade".


Very similar to this, debris catching "shade"

 It was F's job to clean it. 

F: "Where are the Clorox wipes?"
Me: "What do you need those for? Its a lamp."
F: "Because! It Cleans AND Sanitizes!!!!"

Yep, that marketing team sure hit home with my spouse.

Checkin' It Twice.....

Since so many men say they can’t read minds, including my husband, I put together a list of potential Christmas presents. I was trying to be helpful, especially because he told me rather recently that he never knows what to get me. (Despite the fact that I supply him a list each year.)


Here is the e-mail exchange AFTER he received and reviewed my list:

E-mail from F: “Subject: I take it that this is your xmas list?”

My response: “Yes”

His response: “Wow that is some list… not too sure about #1… nope to #2… maybe to #3…. Yes to #4, #5, #6 and absolutely surprised about #7… what if I already bought you something, should I take it back???”

Here is the list he is referring to:

1) A puppy(seriously, I am ready for a dog.)

2) Steak Dinner at [redacted] Steak House (high end steak place I’ve been dying to try)

3) Go see the Mary Poppin’s play in [redacted]

4) Go see The Nut Cracker somewhere

5) Adaptor for my CD player

6) A new bathrobe (I also asked for this last year, I got a digital camera instead)

7) Digital Video camera (if he is willing to buy a regular camera, why not a video camera??)


My response: “Why NO to #2?????

Of course you don't have to take it back. Of course you can use the list to ADD to it.....................”

His response: “#2 is not a gift… it’s something we can do as a dinner for ourselves…(ok, sweet, I’ll give him that. Now if it actually happens, that will be monumental) Will think about it…”



Ok, cool, that he thinks it is a dinner we can do together, but I’ve been telling him I want to go there for a year now. We still have not gone. Now I’m dying to see what I get. Did he really already get me something?? The suspense is going to kill me!

Last year in order to throw me off, he wrapped up two of his dirty t-shirts and placed them under the tree. You can imagine my surprise and confusion when I opened those.
He thought it was a great joke.

His mother, however, did not.

Is This For Real???

"Adulthood sucks...why, yes, yes it does. DH, that's why we'd like to invite you to become one of our Authors in Alexandria. You may mirror your existing posts from here or elsewhere or produce original posts there, on anything you wish, as you desire. For your contributions and participation we will blogroll you with no reciprocation required. See our Guidelines for Authors for full details. Come contribute your perspectives and opinions to the ongoing conversations there or, even better, start some new - and different - ones of your own. Contact us through the site for full invitations and instructions."

Really? I have 30 followers (love everyone of you!!) but I really don't see how that qualifies as mass appeal. I could be wrong. They may be in dire need of something to pass the time in Alexandria. Where I am not located????? I, well, hmmm. I'm tempted to be like The Bloggess and mess with them. (see Thief? that's how you give someone credit for their work.) But I just don't have it in me at the moment.

I've Been Stolen!!!!

So, um, yeah. I was just looking through some of the Blogger Dashboard stuff and they have all kinds of stats. One thing tells you where you've been "reference". Except, I wasn't referenced, I was stolen. My Post. Almost WORD FOR FREAKING WORD. Can you believe it?? Seriously?? The Thief couldn't even be bothered to give me a little credit for my cut and paste skillz!!!??? He even used MY TITLE for the post.
Dude, you know who you are, and you know it isn't cool. I don't care if you leave it up, just give me credit for my "work".

An Open Letter

Dear Target,

You used to be my Mecca, my Nirvana, my haven of easy finds and great sales. That has come to an end. At first, it was just one or two things that disappeared. I could no longer find a great purse that someone my age could get away with. Then all your shoes grew their heels super high and I could no longer wear them. These things I found elsewhere, while I would still glance through those aisle in hopes that maybe things had gone back to what they were. To no avail. Then other thing started disappearing from your shelves. Curling irons, this didn’t matter until I needed one. Then my face powder, then my eyeliner. And hairspray. And shampoo. And gel. I was forced to find these items from other merchants. This brought me no joy. My complete beauty routine had vanished from your well lite aisles. Save for one last piece, my hair coloring product. I could easily pluck my new found color from the bright aisle of yellow and green boxes. Until now. Now, nothing. Every color BUT mine. I check the manufacture’s website, they still make my Sweet Latte’, Dark Beige Blonde. #72. You just don’t seem to carry it.

What is the deal Target?? Why have all my shades and colorings gone from your walls? F thinks I’m crazy when once in a while I actually FIND my shade of face powder and I BUY THEM ALL. Yes, 3 or 4 of them at a time. This is how extremely rare these finds are. I’ve completely given up on my eyeliner.

Why do you deny me? Do you want me to not feel somewhat pretty? Or is my coloring just that popular that you can’t keep it stocked?? Small thing I actually remember from my horrid semester in Econ, SUPPLY and DEMAND. Your supply is not meeting my DEMAND.

Please rectify this IMEDIATELY.

I miss you.

But I am terribly upset and disappointed with you.



Discolored,



Devil’s Heaven

Minus The Ears

 I went and was fitted for my elephant face, minus the ears of course.  I was a few minutes early to my fitting appointment with David, my own personal on-call-but-please-don't-call-me support tech. I was willing to wait, especially after he made this proclamation to me: "Sorry if my breath smells weird, I just had shrimp for lunch." And oddly enough, I could smell that fishy smell the minute I walked in. So glad to have it explained away. I would have waited for him to get a mint to make it GO AWAY though.  David was very careful to tell me he'd sanitized his hands before he began touching my elephant trunk and nose. Of course I'm not sure that really helped after he said to me: "Sorry about the sniffling, my allergies are really bothering me."

This kid was a barrel of one liners. He was visibly and verbally surprised by my proficiency in placing the nose contraption on my head; "WOW. Most people don't figure it out right away."  Ummm, maybe you need to review the patient/tech privacy handbook there David.

There was a ton of paper work to be filled out, and David ASSURED me that he would call me within "48 to 72 hours to see how you are doing."  It has been over a week now and David has not called to check up on me, or to fill me in on the re-ordering process for the gel nose piece and it's cover. Guess I'll have to do the calling myself.

Anyhoodle, is what I came home with:

The face mask AKA the elephant nose and trunk



The "Machine"



The full contraption, assembled and ready to go



"So Comfortable...You might forget you're wearing it"
 TOTAL LIE.

I forgot to take a picture of the Sporty carrying bag. I'll have to take it out of the closet and snap a pic for ya'll.

Things I Learned From PANDORA.com

THREE WHOLE verses of KNOCK KNOCK KNOCKIN' on HEAVEN'S DOOR
Could this song be any darker and death-y??

Subjugation seems like a mighty big word for a song with THREE WHOLE VERSES of the same FIVE words over and over again.
I'm just sayin........

Just Call Me Babar

I hadn't heard from either my Dr's office or the Sleep Clinic in two weeks, so I called my Dr. They had my results, but were unable to open them, computer related crap, blah blah blah, we'll get back to you.  A few days pass, and they call with the results, SEVERE sleep apnea. And I can tell you it must be VERY severe because the nurse who called paused and then STRESSED the word SEVERE. I think she even said it a few times. For effect. So basically, yeah, I'm close to death when I sleep from lack of breathing. SWEET.

Not an hour later, the sleep clinic was calling to make sure they get my Medically Insured Reimbursed business. I go in the next few days for my training and to pick up my C-PAP machine with its ""very convent and sporty duffel bag for easy transportation."

 YES. SPORTY.  What more can a girl ask for??

The Elephant.....





And it's trunk



And the Nose

This thing can have its own PILLOW??? Oh brother.



Am I wrong here people???



Do you see it? I'll look like I'm wearing an ELEPHANT'S FACE




Forced Air Breathing

Sleep study is done. Surprise! I have Sleep Apnea. I haven't gotten the full diagnosis from my actual doctor, but the Sleep Tech was rather impressed with my lack of breathing.
It took a good hour to fill out all the paper work and for my Sleep Tech to attached all the electrodes to my head. When she was done I kind of looked like the Queen Borg with all the wires coming off my head.

I of course still had my hair

I was completely exhausted when I arrived at the sleep clinic, and so of course I assumed I would have no problem falling asleep in the nice big bed I was going to have all to myself, in the nice dark and quiet room I would also have all to myself. Yeah, not so much. The mass of wires attached to not only my head, but my face and legs as well, was less than easy to sleep with. There was a nose piece in my nose that had another piece hanging from in case I began breathing through my mouth. It kept stabbing my upper lip. The tangling and rolling over and the leds poking me in my face, not so comfortable. I think I finally managed to fall a sleep around midnight only to wake up and become horribly antsy at 1 am.  My legs were spazing out. I couldn't get comfortable, I was about to freak the hell out when I decided it might help if I went to the bathroom.  That of course was no small task. And something I needed help doing.  I lay still in the dark room and timidly called out to my Sleep Tech, "Hello????"
Over the intercom she answers, "Do you need to use the restroom?"
"yes" I responded feeling foolish.
She came to my room and unhooked the mass of wires from the main thing they were plugged into, and slung the mini board around my neck.  Going to the restroom? Not at all graceful. I had wires down my sleep shorts which were connected to my legs, I had all the others from my head and face slung around my neck and an oxygen monitor on one of my fingers. AWK.WARD.
I shuffled back into the room where the Sleep Tech was waiting for me. "I'm going to put the C-PAP mask on you now."

His is too big for his face, but yeah

The head straps there went under all the wires that were coming out of my head.  It forces air in. Making it harder for you to stop breathing.  I thought I might need the full face mask:



This one covers your nose AND your mouth, talk about Darth Vader

 Did I mention that I had taken a sleeping pill after the Sleep Tech tucked me in the first time? Well I did. And then a mere 4 hrs later I took another half of a sleeping pill.  If was after that half that sleep FINALLY over took me. I was zonked out. At 6 AM my Sleep Tech came woke me via intercom. I was so incredibly out of it, I had to use  my GPS to drive to my mom's. A route I take on a DAILY BASIS.  My plan was to maybe nap for an hour or so and then get ready for work. I slept really hard for 2 hours. When I emerged from my old bedroom my mom looked at me and proclaimed, "You look SO MUCH better than when you got here!!!"
Thanks mom.
So, talk about sexy eh?? You know you want one of these too!

Well at least after I get this contraption F and I can sleep in the same room again. ALL NIGHT instead of just part of the night.

YAY BABY.

Sandman VS Darth Vader Mask

F complains about my snoring. He says it has gotten worse in the last year. In the last few months it has become common place for him to stumble off to the guest bedroom to sleep. Needless to say, I try and keep that bed made up, j.i.c. I haven’t been sleeping well either. I chalked this up to the fact that I was trying not to disturb him, and hence became a light sleeper. On my annual visit to my Dr., she asked if I needed any refills on any of the meds from last year. I told her the one that was suppose to make me sleep didn’t work (it was for depression, um, no), she gave me an actual sleeping pill. But first she asked me one simple question, “Does he say you ever quit breathing while asleep?” I looked at her dumbfounded. This had never occurred to me. And F had never mentioned it. When I got home that evening, I asked him, “Oh Yeah. ALL. THE. TIME.”


Seriously??? I quit breathing ALL. THE. TIME. And he NEVER mentions it??

“Well, it’s more like a; pause.”

DUDE. Not cool.

The Dr. signed me up for an at home sleep study. I received one of those oxygen nose pieces, which attached to a beeper looking thing. I popped one of my new found sleeping pills (SWEET) and proceeded to sleep. A few times the nose piece came out of one side of my nose, but if I woke up, I just shoved it back in and went back to sleep. I turned it in the next day. The following day; a Friday, the sleep center called me, to set up an onsite appointment. I didn’t call them back right away. Then my Dr.’s office called. I didn’t call them back either. The weekend passed and I slept pretty crappily, as did F. Monday morning, my Dr.’s office called me AGAIN to tell me I needed to make an appointment, ASAP. Apparently the data collected said I pretty much didn’t breath at all during the night, go figure. I did tell the lady who collected the little sleeper beeper that I tend to sleep with my mouth open, and so I think that might be part of the issue. I could be wrong. Anyway, the same lady cheerfully told me that they had a cancellation for THAT NIGHT and could I make it. Stunned, I agreed. I packed up my 2 piece sleep gear (t-shirt and shorts), my “portable” CD player and headphones with fresh batteries, my pillow; the Dr. prescribed sleep pills, and a fan, just in case it got too hot in there. From 9PM to 5 freaking 30 AM the next morning, I would be trapped in a “room” away from home.

How do they really expect anyone to really sleep during these things anyway? Telling me I HAVE TO SLEEP is like telling me I can’t have a cookie, or something to drink, because then you just know you HAVE TO HAVE IT. I guess I mean, this means I won’t sleep because I HAVE TO SLEEP. And the lady said my Dr. ordered 2 tests to be done, but most times things don’t work out that way, so people end up having to go back for the second half.

Excellent.

Stop Eyin' (Eyein') Me....

I do not care for seafood. This is a long standing dislike. Goes back many a years to a childhood fraught with 40 Fridays of Fish sticks. I'm talkin about Lent y'all. Yes, mom would swap Fish stick Friday with Spaghetti Friday, but nothing could wipe out the horror that is the fish stick.  Recently, when F and I went to Boston for a job interview,(him, which he didn't get, BOSTON damn it) he was in pure heaven, while I roasted in hell simply so he could enjoy some seafood. The hotel suggested a place down the street that was very popular with the locals. It was in a strip mall. Anyhoodle, my olfactory sense triggered a massive gag reflex when F opened the door.  I cringed, my face scrunched up in that "oh! gross smell!!!!!!!" look as my eyes fell upon a sea food DELI. A strip mall fish market.  F pushed me through the connecting door none too soon as I held my breath. The smell wasn't nearly as strong on the restaurant side.  But it is not just the smell my digital friends that sends me in to convulsions. The look gets me too. I cannot stand to have my food look back at me. AT ALL. EVER. It grosses me the hell out. So you can imagine how I felt when I opened an e-mail from a local Mediterranean restaurant and saw this STARING back at me. I gag just thinking about it!

THOSE EYES!!! Seriously. COOKED EYES.

GAG GAG GAG GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAG.

Mike Holmes, Where ARE You??

F and I have been in a corkscrew of never ending home improvement jobs. Something that should be a simple, weekend-ish projects have turned into MONTHS long frustration. A simple ceiling fan insulation has become a bit of a nightmare. Simply cut a hole, install the bracing, install the fan box, patch hole, sand, and paint. All that was accomplished, with only minor irritation. The problem exploded when my mom and I started to paint. The first coat of primer, Sherwin Williams, went on like butter.  We took a break, had some lunch, left the large floor fan directed at the ceiling, running for about an hour and half. I started the second coat of primer on the ceiling when bubbles in the paint started to appear. A few we popped, a few we left alone to shrink back up. When I started the second coat of paint, all hell had broke lose in the form of mass bubbling.  We quit. I cried. My mom went home. F raged.
Then he tried to sand out the bubbles, and the paint started peeling off in SHEETS.  Right back down to the drywall. 3/4 of the ceiling peeled down to drywall. We called in some people who informed us that we had a moisture issue. When they put on the addition, they didn't properly vent it. On top of that, we found that our roof ridge vent, which is to run the entire length of your roof peak, has a 3 foot GAP in the middle. W.T.F? These issues are beyond F's and my know-how, so we had to hire someone. I can I tell you, that hiring a contractor after watching Holmes on Homes is near to impossible.  Every one of those shows starts out with the homeowner saying how they did their homework. Ask for references, called people, and the guy seemed on the up and up and then WHAM they get left in the dead of winter without a roof and electricity. This was my fear. That we'd pay out all this money and still have an issue on our hands. And for what a small job it was, there was no way in the world that I could hope to get Mike Holmes in to fix it.  We hired a guy to tear out and install new insulation and drywall in the ceiling in the dining room and new drywall and insulation in the half bath, where it was discovered that one of the previous homeowners painted DIRECTLY over the wallpaper. Please, PLEASE don't ever do that, it is all kinds of wrong and will end up with who ever owns the house after you, cursing your name. Trust me on this.  Our contractor showed up, on time, and from what my mother says, who was contractor sitting, worked like a mad man.  After the job was suppose to be done, I, with all my Holmes Knowledge, do an inspection. "Um, F? I can still see the drywall tape, like, everywhere. I don't think you're suppose to be able to see it." And so began another round with the contractor. Who insisted that if he covered it up, it would be a bump and something about the walls sloping or something, I don't know. I just know that after several more weeks of me saying, "I can still see the tape." F and the contractor were ready to kill me, and then each other.  Also, one of the seams cracked, all the way across the room. F had a fit. I began to wonder just how much damage had to be done before I could get Holmes on the job. The contractor fixed the crack, and we've come to some sort of peace agreement. I'm getting ready to start painting. 
So help me, if that drywall tape starts to come up, there will be all kinds of hell to pay. And you all will have to send me some Valium.

I Am So Easily Tortured

I hate needles. I hate getting shots. I hate getting blood taken.
Therefore, when the barely legal lab tech says to me: "Which arm do they use when they take your blood?"
Me: "The right."
B.L. Lab Tech: "Hmmm. Do they have an easy time?"
Me: "Yes." as my arm yelps in pain from the tourniquet.
B.L. Lab Tech: "Do they ever use your left arm?"
Me: *start to panic* "Some times. But they usually use the right arm."

B.L. Lab Tech keeps pressing on my veins in my right arm. I try to breath deeply so I don't freak the hell out.

B.L. Lab Tech: "So they use the right and have an easy time of it?"
Me: "Yes." my right arm is screaming in protest now from the tourniquet. I think my skin started to separate at the contact point.

B.L. Lab Tech: "Well, I can feel two veins here, I just don't know which one to use! *giggles*
Me: *hyper ventilating* "Really???!!!"  I restrain from yelling at another nurse to come save me as she passes by in the hall.

B.L. Lab Tech: "Well, I guess we'll try this one."

Sweet Jesus, did she just say GUESS and TRY when talking about needles and veins?!?!!
I close my eyes tightly, because you know if you can't see it happening, it isn't happening, as she finally sticks the needle in my arm.
B.L. Lab Tech: "Got it!" (i think she sounded surprised.)
Me: *moments from clawing my way out of the chair* "Oh, good."
My right arm cries out in relief as she unties the tourniquet.

As much as I like to think I can Jack Bauer my way through torture, I'd never last a second if they brought out the needles.

All I Ask.....

I have to know, really I do. Is it REALLY that difficult to drive the speed limit? Is it? I'm not asking you to speed. I'm simply asking you to do the posted speed limit.
Not 10 miles under the speed limit.  Not 35 in a 45 during rush hour. Just, 45, maybe 50. Really, please? Could you at least???

Thanks.

Slow Spiral

For several months now I’ve been feeling down. I’m having a hard time finding anything to be happy about, or that I like. It started by hating my hair. Well, actually, it probably started before that. Back when, well, we found out some not so good news. My spiral started then. I’ve been wrestling with what, if anything I wanted to share here. One day, when the bad news was more than I could take, I started an entry, of sorts, that bullet pointed my experiences and feelings. I’m still not ready to share, here. Yet. But, having put it down, having it out of my head so to speak, I’m able to concentrate. I’ve been adding bullets as things happen.

Today, though, today, I just, *sigh* I just need to vent, maybe? Get things out so I can start moving past them. So please bear with me and my pity party of one.

Yes, I still hate my hair. Even though I realize that it is just not my hair, it is what my hair is sitting on top of. My head? Well yes, in a board sense, but more, my FACE. I hate my face right now. More specifically I hate how fat it is. I pass by a mirror and am shocked, Who’s the piggy? Who’s the old angry Polish woman? (I’m polish, so I can be stereotypical about my own people, right?) My double chin is double what it used to be. My skin looks horrid. Spots, break outs, wrinkles, plain old dull. My upper arms are doughy and soft, and BIG. I don’t think I’ve had wrists since I’ve meet F. I have the wrist version of cankles. Frists? I don’t know. My stomach. Lord. The bulge. The MOUND of fat. Thunder thighs? Check and check. CANKLES, sweet heaven above, I have cankles. And sausage fingers. I have fat people fingers.

My sugar is up, as is well, EVERYTHING that should be down.

I know, eat less, and move more. It is all under my control. I GET IT. And I have been trying, but I haven’t been trying as much as I should. And the weird thing? The weird thing is, is that food doesn’t sound good to me anymore, so I hardly eat, but I’m not really losing weight. Sometimes I’m not even hungry. Sometimes, the mere mention of a certain food makes me gag. Sometimes it is the smell. The other night F made chicken and I swore it smelled like fish. I could barely bring myself to eat it. Other times I get so hungry I get ill. Everything is, OFF, and I’m at a loss as to how to correct it. There are days when getting out of bed is such a challenge. If I could just sleep for a few more hours, everything would be fine. Socializing? Who wants to be bothered with that? It is too much work.

I see, I know what it is, DEPRESSION. I’ve had bouts of it before, who hasn’t? But I’ve always managed to pull myself out of it. I’ve always managed to put it behind me and move on. Nowadays I feel like I’m treading water, I’m not going anywhere. And it all starts all over again, the spiral. The sleeplessness, the over tiredness, the flat out apathy of everyday, day after day. I’m boxed in and I don’t know how to get out.

If just, IF JUST……yes, IF JUST….then it would all be better, maybe. Right? MAYBE.

*sigh*

Oh, the evils and joys of chocolate and salt

Crack in a candy coating.

Need I say more?

Order UP!!

Last night 7 PM: F arrives home after going grocery shopping by himself. He sets the bag on the counter and goes about his business.

10 PM: I follow him to bed.

8AM THIS MORNING: F calls me from work: "Hey, did you put away that meat I bought last night?"

Me: "I didn't know you bought any meat."

F: "So, that means it is still sitting out on the counter?"

Me: "Uh, yeah, if you didn't put it away."

F: "Can you turn around and go back to the house to put it away?"

Me: "After it sat out OVER NIGHT????!!!!"

F: "Yeah, it'll be fine."

Me: "Are you sure??? I don't think it will still be good."

F: "Yes, please, go put it away."

Me: "ok."

Needless to say, I won't be having a deli sandwich any time soon for lunch. uh, gag. That is just asking to get sick. Not that it was overtly warm or hot in our house, but the temp didn't drop below 72 all night. I'm making myself sick visualizing all the germs and slimy things on that meat now.

*shiver*

We've got Fievel

We have a mouse situation in our office currently. Over the last few weeks there have been several sightings. There have, in fact, been a few captures. Three to be exact. One of the women in another office group was apparently VERY concerned about the well being of said mice once they were captives. Being a fair and humane person, the Building Manager gave them “live traps” to place about their office space. Once the traps were set, the concerned woman saw to it that there was not only food placed inside the trap, but ALSO WATER, just in case they didn’t reach the trapped mouse quickly. Yes, that’s right; the trap was stocked with food and water. GITMO has nothing on us. It is believed that it is a Mouse (mice?) Family and that the 3 that were captured and released “back into the wild” were the older, or shall I say, Elder Mice. Apparently, one mouse was not so lucky, as he/she was found dead. The remaining mouse, we assume there is only one left, has been creating quite a stir today. Darting across cubicle floors, slipping under cubicle walls, creating all out panic amongst the open-toed shod. The mouse’s activities have resulted in two excited shouts (from those who saw it) and one cubicle entry way blockade by the neighbor of the witness. This isn't the first time we've had mice issues. Several years back, all our snacks were getting nibbled. That offender's life was inadvertently cut short by an almost empty pot of hot coffee that was emptied into the sink said offender was hanging out in. Our office has been a bit of a wild kingdom over the years. During its first few days in our ownership; we harbored two very smelly wet dogs from a thunderstorm. This seemed to set the trend with our outdoor brethren, that we were kind and gentle folk. The dogs became cats that lived out by the trash bin. The cats became bats that slept in office trash cans. The bats turned into birds that got caught between the walls while trying to spy on the snake that lived there as well. Do you have any idea how nerve wracking it can be to hear a bird flapping frantically behind the wall? NEVER MORE comes to mind.


We also seem to be the Mecca for bees and hornets and wasps. I was actually stung by one (one what, we’re not sure) that landed on my neck while I was talking to a friend out in the atrium. Our patio picnic tables draw bees, hornets, and wasps as though we coat them in honey and pollen. Were we chased from both tables today by the hovering bees that were unable to return home because my tush was blocking their entry.

After the events of the day, the Building Manager swore us to secrecy when she told us she’d be going out and purchasing “REAL TRAPS” to do away with the remaining baby mouse. There will be no supply stocking of this trap, outside of the peanut butter laden trigger.

Let the hunt begin.

Look With Your Eyes

F comes upstairs and starts looking around the family room. He looks on the table. He looks on the couch. He picks up his laptop and looks at it. He places said laptop on the couch. He looks on the floor. He looks on the table again. He looks behind the couch. He picks up the camera and puts it back down.
I watch silently.
The puzzled look on his face grows as he picks up his laptop again.
Me: "What are you looking for?"
F: "The data cord for the camera." he says as he motions towards the camera that is now back on the couch.
He picks up his laptop again and looks at it puzzled and then tosses it back on the couch.
Me: " You mean the data cord that is attached to the laptop you just had in your hand?"
F: "Wha? Oh, um, yeah."
Me: "Emhmmm."

Seriously guys, LOOK WITH YOUR EYES.

When Your Stomach Drops to Your Shoes

The Tenant called. I waited for F to start swearing. It rarely feels that any time Tenant calls, it is something good. This time was no different, however, F didn't swear.
 The night before a lovely high heat, high humidity day, the A/C goes out.
The hard ass in me comes out, "You know, we DON'T HAVE to provide him with a/c."
F just stares at me, then walks away.
OK, so yes, maybe we DO have to provide him with a/c, even though that's no where stated in the contract. My point is, I hate being a landlord. It seems that every time F and I plan something that requires us to spend money, something at the Rental goes awry. This time? Replacing the ceiling in the 3rd bedroom that is frontin' as our dining room. That in itself is a story. 4 coats of paint bubbled and peeled off like pulling a sticky note off your desk. All my hard work, undone. Everyone we spoke to was baffled. Except Eldest Sister. "Sounds like moisture to me, a ventilation issue." Ah, her environmental engineering degree finally comes in handy. All 3 of the contractors we had come in to look said the same thing. So there goes $850. Plus whatever is wrong with the A/C that we are having professionals look at.(Tenant still has not called them, so he is still without a/c. His own doing.) Not the guy F knows who took 5 days to fix our A/C in 90+ degree weather. Yet another story.  Anyway, every time Tenant calls I dread what I'm about to hear. My stomach drops to my shoes. I love my old house, I really do, but like many people in the good ole' USA, I'm "under water" on it. And there is no way Tenant, who filed for bankruptcy in the past, is going to be able to get a loan for any amount that would come close to paying it off.  *sigh*
I guess the good thing is he wants to sign on for another year, however, with the clause that if he buys a house he can break the lease without penalty. My thought on this is, what if he just wants to break the lease and is just SAYING he's buying a house? Can I force him to prove that he's buying a house in order to break the lease? I just don't know these things. I am a lazy landlord. I am a lazy landlord because I don't want to BE a landlord.  I hate the feeling I get when Tenant calls. The overwhelming dread. The worry about how we are going to cover whatever expense is going to come up this time. The tense between F and I over it. We need to sell it, and be done with it, but in today's market? Um, yeah.

Any suggestions?

Eve is Lookin a Little Too Much Like Adam.....

Somehow, me thinks this bathing suit is on the wrong mannequin.

I'm just sayin.........

Zappos, or more likely Nike, you may want to look into this.

Dessert Fairy, Stricks Again

Around 3pm the other day, F calls to inquiry if I would like some cupcakes. I said SURE!

I think we all know where this is going....................

Yep, another uncovered dessert.

This time however, they had sat out since 2ish. F got home shortly after 7pm. It always amazes me that badly contained desserts make it through the ride home.

And yet, surprisingly, they were still moist 2 days later when I finally got around to eating them. (I'VE BEEN BUSY.yes, too busy for chocolate, feel my pain.)  Mind you of course, I'd covered them with plastic wrap. Over tooth picks so the frosting wouldn't stick.

Wait, what did you say?

E-mail I sent F:
09:10 AM
i have no idea where my cell phone is.

(we send each other e-mails when we forget our phones at home or couldn't find them before we left for work so the other person doesn't freak out when their calls go unanswered)

F's response:
9:11 AM
 nice... when did you have it last?

Me:
9:15 AM
yesterday.


Silence ensued for several hours there after until he sent me an e-mail in answer to a question about our evening plans:

F:
1:02 PM
no need to go and it doesn't start till 10 anyways so we wont be home till midnight... answer my text (we are old and must be in bed before midnight. what can i say.)

Me:
1:18 PM
Dude, do you not remember the e-mail I sent you this morning????????????
(yes, I am decidedly over 30 and still say DUDE. I can't quit it!)

Then at 4:30pm he calls me, at work:

F: "HAHAHAHA DH, I know you left your cell at home, but I keep calling it!!"

*insert eye roll and head shake here*

Open Letter

Dear Mother Nature,

Pray tell, was it really necessary to open up the heavens in Noah's Ark proportions and rain DIRECTLY into my window whilst I was trying to order my lunch? I had to open my umbrella in my car and I still got soaked. Yes, you read that right, I had my UMBRELLA opened in MY CAR.
There are so many things wrong with that.
 Including what you did to my pants and the inside of my car.

My pant leg. Yes, that pinkish color IS MY LEG showing through the light tan Capri's I had on.

My driver's side door. The light color is the dry bits.

There was standing water in the little hand hold hole there. Yeah.

Please refrain from raining INTO my window while ordering my lunch. It is bad manners.

Just the Facts Ma'am

Recently, I celebrated my 36th Birthday. F asked me a month in advance what I wanted for said birthday. At the time, I was at a complete loss because my birthday was far removed from the current things on my mind. However, feeling the mostly ever present muscle ache in my lower back/hip, I requested a massage. About a week later he requested a longer list from which to choose. Again, my mind was elsewhere, I was unable to lengthen the list. (scary, i know) Life went on and I forgot my birthday pretty much altogether.  Several nights before my birthday, after being in bed for sometime, silence had settled upon on us. It had been quiet for what seemed to me a good 15 to 20 minutes. Out of the dark F queries, "So, do I have to get you a present?"
Somehow, I knew exactly what he was getting at, "Um, YES."
F: "Do I REALLY??"
Me: *sigh* "Of course!"
F: "Can't I just get you a card?"
Me: "F. Stop."
F: "Do you remember what you asked for?"
Me: "Yes."
F: "Well, I got it for you. So you can make a day out of it with SES since it is over by her house and she's actually got it."
Me: "Um, Ok?"
F: "Yep."
Me: "Thanks."
F: "Do I still have to get you a card?"
Me: "It would be nice."
F: *sigh*

Things.....

I Did While Away on a Long Weekend.......

1)Left the sliding glass door unlocked.
   -Who knows how long it was unlocked before we actually left, for FOUR days. Needless to say no one came in and relieved us of our 15 yr old non-flat screen TV, or the slow as molasses lap top.

2) Lost $100 in CASH.
    - F placed the $100 bucks he took out down my shirt. (classy, I know) I in turn completely forgot about it and I assume it fell out when we got out of the car for lunch.
Now if he had placed it in my BRA, well, that money would never have been lost, that's for damn sure.

3) Rediscovered my calves.
    - Walking along a sandy beach really brings it home just how out of shape you REALLY are. The 100yards from where we set up our chairs to the stairs to the elevator, had me huffing like a mad woman.  My calves are still pissed at me so I've been hobbling about like I'm 80 yrs old. Turning 36 did not help.
4) Got horribly burned DESPITE the sun block I had on.
    -Granted it was only SPF 4, but still, I had applied it after swimming and damned if my chest and upper thighs aren't glaringly red. F likes to poke my burn and say, "Does it hurt??? I've never been sunburned before, you white woman."

One Click Only Please

Dear BING! search engine,

Um, I hate you. I click on one link and instead of going directly to the story indicated it takes me to your search engine where there are 20 billion links for the same story from 20 billion different sources. I do not care for this at all. Please just take me to the story you indicated so that I may read it, and possibly share it via my Face Book page. If I want to do further research at a later date I will, but being forced to hunt and pick through all the listings is NOT COOL.

Please rectify this immediately.

Sincerely,
DH

Cable Jacking

Dear Neighbor P who lives behind us,

Over the last few years I'v come to realize that your berry tree has been resting heavily on our garage and, more recently, I believe said berry tree was feeding our rat problem. Yesterday I was completely involved in watching MIB II when the picture completely froze and I could not get it off my screen. I sadly turned the TV off and went about my day.  When F arrived home he plopped down to drool over watch the FIFA Cup.
"What's wrong with the TV??"
"I don't know, it froze on me earlier today."
We took turns turning the TV off and on, unplugging things and eventually got the AT&T shit done be f'd up Orange screen.  Giving over to the fact that we were now cable less, I headed outside to read "Gone With The Wind". While rearranging my anti-gravity chair (LOVE) I noticed that a tree was missing. I called upon F to confirm my findings.
He confirmed.
On closer inspection we found that you apparently had been doing some tree trimming during the day. I am most happy to no longer have your berry tree co-mingling with my garage roof. I thank you for that.
However, what I do not appreciate is the cable line that is now dangling in my yard begging F to touch it.  This also leads to the fact that, um, we DO NOT HAVE CABLE. I cannot express my dismay enough at the fact that you failed to inform us of this great tragedy. Your Tree Guy called the electrical people. It is NOT their issue. It is AT&T's issue. I wish you had left us a note (the other neighbors informed us of what had happened) so I could have prepared F for the despair he was about to feel about not being able to watch the FIFA Cup. F had to call AT&T and play dumb about why the cable wasn't working and now we are must wait for AT&T to come and discover that their cable line has been cut. This is NOT COOL.
In the future PLEASE be more considerate when disabling some one's lifeblood entertainment device. A little head's up would have been nice.

Your Neighbor,
Devil's Heaven

DH Had Her Groove Stolen

So I've started the Zumba! class at the REC center.  Although I sweated my ASS off, I am extremely HORRIFIED to discover that the fabulous booty shakin groove I've had ALL MY LIFE has apparently disappeared. Yes, gone. Gone baby GONE. The only thing I could chalk it up to, Aerobics. Aerobics stole my groove. Aerobics is stiff? I guess you'd say. Where as Aerobics is all LEFT. RIGHT. FRONT. BACK. Zumba! is more LEFT......SWISH!.......RIGHT.......WRIGGLE!....FRONT.....DIP!!!.....DIP!!!!!!!!!!..... BACK....CHA CHA!!!!.....WAVE THOSE HANDS IN THE AIR LIKE YOU JUST DON'T CARE!!!!....SWISH! DIP! WRIGGLE!!! HOP!!! I mean seriously, not to boast too much here, but I used to be quite the hip grinding dance freak at Ladies' Night!!! at the local hot spot during college. Now? my hips were all, "DUDE! What the EFF??? That kinda HURTS!"  I've lost my ability to swish my hips. There were moments where it would dawn on me that I needed to feel the music and stop trying so hard to get the steps right, and that did help, a little, until I found myself on the wrong foot, facing the wrong way, shakin my booty when I was suppose to be tapping my heel. I realize this was only the first class, and that by the time it is over, I should be doing better. I HOPE! Seriously, I HAVE TO get my groove back!
When I got home F wanted to know how it went.

"Well, I've lost my groove."
"You had a groove??"
*evil eye* "Yes!"
"Riiight."

I'm not lookin to get the kind of groove back that would land me Ty Diggs, although, BOY HOWDY that would be an AWESOME groove to have, just the kind of groove where I wouldn't get laughed at on the dance floor during ladies night at the local watering hole. Is that so much to ask?


Oh, and to the ONE guy that was in the class with his, girlfriend(?), that fart you ripped was nasty, and she had every right to be holy embarrassed by it, and to laugh at you. Seriously, GROSS.

I Call It Soccer

Dear 2010 FIFA World Cup Championship,

 I would like my husband back now please. I am done watching him be hypnotized by the brightly colored soccer(football) uniforms. He sits like a lump in front of the TV and barely recognizes me through his daze. I think I even saw him drool a little the other night.
Also, FIFA broadcasting networks, those horns, the vuvuzela horn, I realize it is a part of the African soccer (football) culture, but seriously, every night I duck and hide thinking somehow a swarm of killer bees (African killer bees? do i see a connection???) has found its way into my home. Maybe at least tone it down a little? Is that too much to ask? 
I know America is considered a wee baby when it comes to playing soccer (football), and F just rolls his eyes at me, because after all, in his HOMELAND soccer (football) was a huge thing, but for me, eh, whatever. But I pretty feel that way about most sports. Take or leave, no big.

So FIFA, when will you be over?? Soon I hope? Please??

Thank you so much,

Devil's Heaven.

P.S. The players are HOTT, I'll give you that. Serious YUM factor.

Bat Shit Crazy

It is hot, but our AC has been fixed, which is a blessing. I was experiencing some pain in my manky ankle and so decided to take some Tylenol PM  around 10pm..
BAD IDEA.
 It is now 3:50 AM and I am shaky and am experiencing crazy ass anxiety My legs can not be still. I have a case of shaky leg, times like a million. I usually get shaky leg when it is time for me to go to bed. This is truly a million times worse. If you could see me sitting here, trying to type, you'd think I was a crack whore in desparate need of another hit.
Tylenol PM used to be my go-to  for a sleep aid. But somewhere it tured against me. It decided that it would lull me with promises of a painless sleep.For years it work. I had many blissfull nights of pillow soaking drool. Alas, that is no longer the case. Is this how kids with ADD feel? I CANNOT sit still. Typing is quite a feet. Holy cow this is nuts. My brain is fuzzy like I"ve been drinking for awhile.I did have 2 Magners, they did not queit my legs, but have fogged my brain.Well that and the other Tylenol PM I took. My thought process was if I took another one, it woud crush the other2. Not so much. This is crazy. I would clean the house with all this energy, but F is sleeeping.
I took one of those pills SIL gave last time we were out there. SOme were muscle relaxer, others where a very strong sleep aid. I finally broke down and  something.  Oh please kick in soon!! IT is 4:24AM. It's like I have assburgers, Walking isn't going so well either. I feel tired. But everytime I sit down my legs continue to run a race. I really don't know what I should do. I almmost feel like I'm drunk blogging.
IT is now 4:37am.
I just want to get some sleep while it is still dark outside.  OMG, please lord help me.
So I Googled Tylnol PM and got this : TYLENOL PM


Safety Information
Can TYLENOL® PM make me feel restless, nervous, or sleepless?


Diphenhydramine, the sleep aid in TYLENOL® PM, causes drowsiness and helps the vast majority of people who take it to fall asleep. Some individuals have reported transient restlessness and nervousness while taking TYLENOL® PM which disappears when the product is discontinued

Um ALL OF THE ABOVE. I have to wait it out or wait for the sleeepin gpilll is working.
I cannot focus anymore. IF you all don;t d=sse my typing skills are being challlevnge.  My be it is tikee  go back t o bed.  hold charp,
Let me seee if u  can figure out ow to co]hiiiiiioook up the         cable to load a vido i rook. never ,
mind it cam e out like crap.  Have a great father da!!!!!!!!!

****please dont judge me*****

Men ARE from MARS

F sent me a text from work telling me how shocked the women in his office were that he turned down a piece of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Being the PMSing wife that I was, I told him to GO BACK and claim that piece of CHOCOLATE LOVE for me!!! At first, he claimed he could not, but I convinced him otherwise. When I got home, he wasn't there, but this is what I found on the kitchen counter in front of the microwave:

God Love him, he brought me the cake.

That had been sitting out for 3 hours, uncovered. That picture up there is EXACTLY how I found it. No plastic wrap, nothing to keep it from getting stale.

Men. They just don't understand the need to preserve the holy chocolateness.

BTW, how do you like my bright arsed mustard yellow 1970's counter tops?? Pretty RAD, eh????

Green Thumb?

So, I'm not much of a gardener. Luckily the woman who used to live in the house before us was quite the Mrs. Green Jeans, so I don't have to do any replanting of pretty things every year. HUGE plus as far as I'm concerned.

However, I do appear to have quite the talent for growing weeds.

That is our bedroom window. Thank goodness it is at the back of the house where no one would see the 2 foot picky weed that is growing under it.

Um, yeah, the window is what? Maybe a foot above said picky weed? I was actually looking out the window one morning when I noticed Picky Weed waving in the breeze at me.

Does it qualify me as having a Green Thumb????

Bucket Full of....Freeze Dried

Um, Costco, do you know something that maybe you'd like to share with the class???

$74.99 after $15 OFF

Food For Health™

Emergency Food Kit

275 Servings

Weather Proof Bucket

Item # 104893

 
What's even scarier? That people have actually written REVIEWS on how the food is.
Apparently they also offer a DELUXE version with a First-Aid kit and "essential supplies".
This is a little too "1999" for me. But then again, I did get hooked on the BBC show Survivors, where a kit, or, bucket, like this would have been quite welcome.
Hmmmmmmmmmmm, how much is it again????