Get on the WHAT?!

I figured it was time I updated you all on what was going on in my life. It's been pretty hectic lately! We just concluded our 2013 fall travel season (thank you precious baby Jesus), I'm just recovering from a 2 week cold, we bought a Pottery Barn sectional, Pip has decided to start eating the crotches out of underpants again, and I am happy to report that my Black Friday shopping is done (yes, I went on Friday and NOT on Thanksgiving). This morning is off to a great start considering I spilled an omelet on my dress (now I smell like eggs or farts, take your pick) and I forgot to pack a regular bra in my gym bag this morning (currently using band aids as nipple protection).  But I digress.
I would like to share the greatest travel story of my season with you and, believe it or not, it does not have anything to do with students or their insane essays (example: "I may look good on paper, but I look WAY better in person!!") or goofy things they ask at college fairs (example: "Don't you have any girls at your school? All I see are bachelor degrees...don't you offer bachelorette degrees?"). I had just finished a very good, very productive week of travel in southwestern New Jersey. I even got to see some good travel buddies!! The morning I was due to fly out of Philadelphia (a Friday), my father and youngest brother decided to meet me for breakfast. It was such a treat (a very early treat...but a treat nonetheless)! I'd say that little punky was excited, too:

I mean, seriously, look at that grin. While we were eating, the phone rang. I didn't recognize the number (a bill collector, perhaps???) and ignored it. We finished eating, said our good byes and I headed to the airport. Two hours of driving later, I decide to check my messages. That phone call I missed? Yeah. It was USAir calling to tell me my flight had been canceled due to weather (it was sunny with a tiny breeze). I found a rest stop and called back, trying to get my flight rescheduled. They currently had me scheduled to leave at 3pm on Saturday which, in any normal life would have worked, but 1) I was out of money 2) I had to teach a dance class at 10am on Saturday and 3) I had to zoom to Clemson so I could work at a tailgating event after dance. Nope. Gotta be home on Friday. Let's try another airport. The people working at USAir's customer service were really nice. The lady told me that she could get me out of Newark today! YES! I said, book it - and I hurried to New Jersey.

I was at the Enterprise counter about to turn in my keys when the phone rang. Guess who? "USAir...your flight has been canceled." SHIT. "Hey, just kidding...I will need that car back." OK. Let's reschedule now for the third time. "How about Kennedy? There's a 5pm out tonight." Sweet God. OK! Let's go!!! Off to Kennedy I went. Got to the Enterprise counter. So far, so good. Turned my keys in god my print out of charges. RING RING. USAir again. Now I am mad, hungry, tired and super crabby. This makes for a lousy combination. "There is an 8pm flight leaving LaGuardia at 8pm." I figure, what the hell? I've come this far - why not just drive to Queens?! And I did. 

It is now about 4:30pm. I make it to LGA. Return my rental car (and pay another outrageous fee - and don't forget, I am broke, so it hurt), get on the shuttle, check in for my flight, find the gate and can now FINALLY relax because it seriously appears I am getting home tonight! I called my friend, Christine, to say hello (because now I have time and I finally stopped panting long enough to hold a conversation). We were mid-chat when I heard the voice over the loudspeaker say that my flight was canceled. @%&*!!! I hang up with Christine and call USAir back. Again, they were really nice. Now, however, the only flight they can put me on will be Sunday. Fine. Book it. Looks like I am going to spend the weekend at my dad's house. 

I call and tell him the scoop. "I'll come get you, Skip." 5pm. Rush hour. Friday night. Queens. Dad won't make it here until 8. "No, that's ok, Dad. I will take the train back home." **First stupid move.

How am I going to get my broke self (literally broke in every way: money, spirit, hope) to Grand Central? A bus for $13?? Hook me up!

I'm not hard to miss when I travel. My Vera Bradley obsession has hit an all time high and I've got at least 5 pieces (different patterns) that I travel with at all times. Not to mention the various pocketbooks, wallets, notebooks, lunch sacks, etc. that are also used on a daily basis. The woman helping passengers to board the correct bus saw that I was in disarray. I asked her when the next bus to Grand Central was due to arrive. She says in about 45 minutes. Great! I told her I was going to run inside for a second to use the restroom and that I would be right back. I went inside, peed, came out and was told that I missed the bus. What? It's OK; I will just wait for the next one. While I am waiting, my dad called. I couldn't hear him, so I went inside for 3 minutes. When I came out, I was told I missed the bus again. Now I am extra mad. "I looked all over for you...". Really? No you didn't. This time I stayed put and finally - an hour later - got on a bus. Because of the missed buses, I also missed the last peak train, which meant I had to wait another hour+ before the next one was ready to leave. Eh, I'll go grab a snack. That's how I ended up in Midtown.

Water? Check! Snack? Check! Now I'm feeling better. I make it back to the train station and realize people are dressed for a Halloween party (it was a few weeks before after all). So I ate my snack and stared for a good 20 minutes (oh, and took pictures).

I boarded the train. 70 minutes and I will be back on Chestnut Street. Thank God. I met a chatty little brat on the train who laid all over me, messed with my pants and loudly talked the entire ride. Let's add insult to injury. Honestly, she didn't shut up. I told her to talk to her mom. "Mommy headphones on. I talk to you." Hmm. Mommy's sick of listening to you, I see.

After texting the whole train ride, my phone is now dead. SAD! Finally, the train makes the stop in South Norwalk where I am going to switch and get on the train to Dad's. I go inside to check which platform I need to be on... "BUS". Bus? No, no. This must be a misprint. I follow the herd outside where, believe it or not, there was a bus waiting for us.

Can this night get any more insane!? Yes! There were 2 buses: one that made a few stops and ended in Bethel, and another that made a several stops and ended in Danbury. I got on the Bethel bus along with about 10 others. We were about to pull away from the station when 2 women and their 8 kids started chasing the bus. The bus stopped and let them on. Mistake #1. The kids shouted loudly on the bus about how they liked apples and what kind of socks was everyone on the bus wearing (SHUT UP!!!). We were 2 stops in when one of the women makes her way to the front of the bus. "We are on the wrong bus." Are you kidding me right now? Nope. They needed to go to Danbury. The bus driver tries to tell her that's too bad. She wasn't having it. So we stop in Branchville and idle for a good 30 minutes so the Danbury bus can catch up to us. Now, I don't really know if it was the snack I had in Manhattan or the bumpy bus ride or what, but when we stopped, I felt really sick to my stomach. I got off the bus to "get some air" and puked my guts out. How embarrassing. The Danbury bus finally arrives. We unload the ladies who can't seem to see a difference in two 3'x4' signs that say DANBURY and BETHEL and their kids who can't seem to live without knowing which Disney princess is everyone's favorite. And we were off...again.

I know what you're asking yourself: can this night get any worse? Yes. It sure can! The bus starts to skip a little. And I think we maybe hit something. Nope. Out of gas. The bus ran out of gas. Let me repeat this: THE BUS RAN OUT OF GAS. When the bus driver asked if anyone had a AAA card, I almost fell over. 

Someone came to our rescue, we gassed up, and headed to Bethel. Officially the worst/weirdest day/night ever.

I didn't think I was going to ever make it to my dad's house, but I did. At 11pm that night. I could have driven back to South Carolina in less time than it took me to zip around the tri-state. I also learned to pack extra snacks (maybe astronaut food), not drink so much coffee, and to bring a refillable water bottle at all times, not just when it will fit into my suitcase. Glad I got to see this little face for 2 extra days though:

And that, kids, ends my seemingly tall, but very true, tale.

Stu, the Segway riding rent-a-cop

Tonight was, well, blog-worthy. Really, bitch-worthy, but I'll settle for online griping. I love to walk. In fact, it is nothing for me to walk 10, 12, 14 miles. I used to run, but plantar fasciitis got me at the beach a few years ago and, since then, I have turned my attention to the thrill of the walk.

I like to hunt for trails and walking paths while I am "on the road" for work but I haven't been lucky on this trip. There are lots of nice neighborhoods to walk in though. And this is how my tale begins.

I wanted to walk somewhere where I could clock my mileage, not get run over, and have things to look at while I cruised. I figured out my path on my iPad and drove to the spot. I parked in a school parking lot, crossed the street, and began my 9 mile jaunt. 

How pleasant! Homes were beautiful, the yards were perfectly maintained, people were out walking their dogs or running; it was nice. I was about 6 miles in, feeling good, and sweating up a storm (it was about 100 degrees today). Then I heard a lawnmower? No... A leaf blower? No... Oh dear god, a Segway. I thought, who the hell walks the neighborhood on a Segway?! Doesn't that defeat the purpose? Then it happened. He wasn't walking...he was patrolling. 

"Can I help you?" I said, "not unless you would like to walk for me." He chuckled this smart ass chuckle and said, "oh, I wasn't being serious. What is your business in our neighborhood?" 

Is this guy for real???? He was honestly waiting for a response. Oh, Jesus, he IS serious!! "I'm just out for a walk. Is that alright?" "No, actually, it isn't. You are trespassing!" 

Isn't a neighborhood (that isn't gated) a public place? I thought streets were public. Perhaps I was wrong. Clearly, in the eyes of Stu the dweeb on the Segway, I was wrong. 

He actually wrote me a trespassing note!!! Then he followed it up with some nonsense about how I was not allowed back in the neighborhood unless I purchased a home. Um, whaaaaaat??!! I don't like you, Stu. You need a major life. When your Friday night consists of cruising the 'hood on a Segway looking for people who don't live there, that's just weird. So I was all pout faced, took my handwritten note of trespassing, and went back to my car. Oh, I was mad. 

I couldn't wait to floor it out of the school. I did a small stretch prior to getting in the car, hopped in the driver's seat, and tucked my left leg under my butt. What the hell stinks so bad? Is this a bruise? Oh no. No bruise. Dog crap. Sometime in between walking around a nice neighborhood and getting scolded by rent-a-cop Stu, I stepped in fresh dog crap, and then smeared it all over my leg, shorts, sock, and car seat. It was a lousy ride home to begin with and it also reeked of doggie poop. Super. Juuuuuust super. 

I would have posted a picture of the trespass note, but guess what I used to clean said dog shit from my messy self? Hey, I didn't have any napkins...

Dumb things kid say

I probably shouldn't be advertising this, but I have not been able to contain my disdain for the unintelligent, careless questions students ask representatives of colleges. I will keep my school's name protected (I seriously fear losing my job) as well as the locations where said encounters happen.  I can tell you, however, that no matter where I travel, there are almost as many awful inquiries as there are intelligent ones. Sad, but true.

Here are my favorites from this last week:

1) which one of the Californias is your school located in?
**which one of the Californias? You know he meant to say "Carolinas" but, whether nerves got the best of him or he just misspoke, he asked about the Californias. Upon being corrected, he told me that it didn't matter because I knew what he meant and "were you trying to embarrass me, ma'am, because it didn't work." Um, no, you little squirt, I was not trying to embarrass you. I wanted to give you the correct information, let you know I heard your blunder (because I was doing something called LISTENING) and to give you a lesson in American geography: there is only one California.

2) (this was asked by a parent) Why would someone spend all that money going to college only to wind up doing something unrespectable like...like...this (implying college admissions)?
**unrespectable???? Wow. Why would I choose a career in college admissions? Oh, I don't know, because I like it, it is a fun job where I can make a difference in someone's future, oh, and because I can directly impact your kid's admissions decision to this college?? Sheesh! Be careful what you say and who you say it to. I'm not vindictive (and ethically I wouldn't do it) but there are counselors out there who would put a note in a student's file over a comment like this.

3) Is your school really hard? Did you get all those grey hairs from your classes?
**this needs no explanation. It was enough to make me sad. And no, these grey hairs came from DNA, stress, and well, I think that's about it.

4) I just wanted to come by because I have been researching your law school and I cannot wait to go! Me: we don't have a law school...could it have been another school you were thinking about? I will do my best to help you find them...? Kid: ma'am, you need to get more training or something because you don't even know what extra schools your school has on its campus.

**yeah, we don't have a law school...or a med school...or a vet school...

5) what kind of doctor can I be in 4 years?
**not a very good one

6) have you been saved?
**I am catholic. So, no. We have purgatory and confession. I am cool. Besides, why are you asking me? You're a student at a college fair. Ask about majors or the airport that is closest to campus. Good gravy. I wish someone would save me from your stupid line of questioning.

7) are there any Mexican kids on your campus because I can't go to school with Mexicans.
**to be honest, I don't know. This is almost as bad as saying, I will ot drink out of the same water fountain as someone black. I just don't understand. Personally, I love Mexicans! My cousins live in Mexico City and visiting them is always special. I was the wrong person to ask. I didn't mention this to the student because I had a line of families waiting to speak to me. Otherwise, I might have picked his brain. Maybe Mexican kids don't want to go to school with you, dude.

8) wow me, sir. (then he stood there...waiting for a response...or, well, to be "wowed")
**let's start with the obvious. I dislike being called ma'am. Sir is worse. Since I left my wiener at home, can you just call me miss? Lord. Anyway, I am not employed to "wow" you. I am employed to give you facts about this university so that you are able to make an educated decision about the college you would like to attend. Yes, facts can be given with pizzazz (one of my specialties) but don't expect it.

9) I don't even need to talk to you because I am being recruited to play football. Me: wonderful! Kid: can I have the coach's name so I can email him? Me: you're not being recruited, are you? Kid: I will be when he gets my tapes. Me: ok, make sure you're in the clearing house before you email the coach.  Kid: what's that?
**I don't have much to say about this. It is a funny zinger in itself.

10) have you ever had anything embarrassing happen to you at one of these things (things = college fair)? Me: embarrassing like what? Kid: I don't know, like spitting on a kid...or having your boobs popping out or something? Me: nope, and hopefully if anything like that does happen, you will not be on the other end of this table.

**wow, this was my favorite one of the year.

Fellow admissions counselors...do you have any good travel stories? Sure, we all do. Share your favorite below so we can all laugh! 

Happy (and safe) travels, friends! See you all on the road!

I'm back, bitches!

Can I say that? Eh, I don't care. I'm back. I haven't been doing anything. Sometimes, people will say, "oh! I haven't written in AGES because I have been SOOOO BUUUUUSY saving babies in Africa, mining for rubies in Paraguay, teaching baby ducks how to swim, learning my 100th foreign language, and speed dating (hey, it takes time, right?)!!" Nope. Not me. I was not doing any of those things. Bottom line: I am lazy. Plus, I am on Cheeto withdrawal. Seriously, I haven't had once since I started WW. Positive note: no orange fingers. I do hope some of you missed me though.

Big stuff happening around school: Game Day was here! If you know anything about me, you know I don't give 2 shits about college football. I don't understand the hype, the tailgating, the hype, the tailgating (I know I repeated myself)...

Growing up in Connecticut, I like(d) 2 teams: the Hartford Whalers (wah, shedding tears as we speak) and the NY Giants. My mother is the biggest Giants fan I know...really, she is. I think she waited for me to get married to sweet Randy so she could turn my old room into a shrine for her Giants. Bobble head dolls, blankets, a bath mat, footballs, jerseys, all kinds of stuff. She's cool - and does love her some Eli Manning. But who doesn't? As far as the Whalers went, Grant Jennings pretty much walked on water in my book (nose and all). But alas, I live in the south now and things are different. We don't like professional teams and we don't understand hockey. We like college football and baseball teams. Blah. I digress...

I also don't care about/ understand/ enjoy listening to conversations about fantasy football. This isn't real, people. Don't you get that?! If it takes you longer than 30 seconds to come up with a name for your "team", you've already invested too much time into this stupid activity. Maybe you should be spending your time saving babies in Africa and teaching ducklings how to swim.

Speaking of weird ways to spend your time, all my mommy friends out there, have you seen this thing? What a SUPER strange product! Nothing like sucking the snot out of your kid's nose the old-fashioned way: GROSS! You might need a garbage can to throw up into...just a warning.

The college kids are back on campus (duh) because school started (double duh). They are an interesting breed these college kids. Some are still living in high school, "oh my God, Jennifer! I am SO excited that we will be going to the MOVIES tonight!!!" Some are trying to be exactly what they were NOT in high school, "I am not a bookworm! I hate studying and classes are stupid!" Others have found love already (hey, everyone who is anyone will be taken by October...) and many are struggling to choose just one boyfriend ("BOYS ARE SOOO CUTE!! AND THEY ALL LIKE ME!! - eh, they like what you have to offer, they don't necessarily like you). I have learned (by creeping out my window) that it is OK to wear cowboy boots and scarves when it's 100 degrees outside, booty shorts are acceptable class attire, and most college girls don't own a hair dryer - or an alarm clock - take your pick.

Aside from the students being back on campus, dance classes starting up, and college sports and cheer bringing me down, not too much else has been creeping its way into my life lately. My husband bought me a new rug for out living room. It's round (fancy, right?!) and Pip's grass allergies? Yeah...fleas. Exciting times in our house.

Dance is going well. I've got some cute little nuggets this year. If you need a place to send your kid where they will get a great dance education, meet some new friends and have amazing instructors (like me!), consider Dancers Corner. It's an awesome studio in Greenville, SC. Reasonable prices, lots of dance variety and tons of fun. Plus, you'll get to see me once a week. That's a bonus in itself.

Link: courtesy of YouTube. Link in post.

Summer love

Today, one of my young neighbors got out of the car that had been picking her up and dropping her off all summer long in such a huff that I thought the passenger side window was going to shatter from being slammed with such vigor. Clearly, summer love is over. There was a lot of, "no, you listen to ME" and "I don't care what you have to say!" - naturally, I pretended to weed in order to eavesdrop. I'm like that and I don't know why. The misery of others, the knowledge that my life is boring and simple, the humor in a teenage fight..yeah, it all brings me great joy. I am sure I was smiling from ear to ear.

She totally saw me spying.

<<<BUSTED>>>

"Can I help you?!" Ah! She was sooo rude and snobby. At first I thought...uh, rude (like what I just said)! Then I thought, no...speedy comeback time. "Actually. You can. I need some help with all these weeds. Thanks to the rain, this yard is a mess!"

"I dislike yard work." (Hmm, you apparently don't dislike having a fight in public...)

"Well, if you reconsider, I will still be here, weeding away, all night, and probably tomorrow, too."

"Trust me, I won't!" (front door opened and slammed shut...this chick has some issues. Quit slamming doors!!)

Crisis averted. I haven't been caught snooping in a long time. I wear sunglasses so I can spy without getting busted (except the day I out the clear lenses in and forgot...that was interesting). Ah, well.

While I was in the yard, I did notice that, after 4 years of being planned, my oleander is finally deciding to bloom. It's pink...who knew?!

In other news, they are developing the plot of land by our house. This means a few things. First off, I have to listen to the tearing down of trees on a daily basis, which upsets me because I love the trees by our home. Second, there are TWO TOWERS of cement blocks to be used as a foundation (our house has the same ones) at the top of the property. It looks like a kids fort or a really ugly castle. Finally, and perhaps the most annoying reason of all, I get to look at a port-o-potty outside my house. It's 90-100 degrees here in the summer (well, now) and the smell wafting from that thing is enough to make even the most iron-clad stomach twist. Now I know how I sound: whiny. I don't hate people (eh, yes I do) and the prospect of having new neighbors is nice (somewhat), but the construction process is always messy, half-assed, and inconvenient. Here are a few pics:

Castle Cinderblock

Good morning, world! Let's go pee outside...and smell it from the house!

Have a wonderful day, everyone! Go forth and eavesdrop!!!

Questions

I've been thinking so much about life's disgusting, rude, and inappropriate questions. I think it is important that I share these thoughts with you.
1) How is poop so large? How does it fit in your intestines? I know the experts say that if you uncoiled your large and small intestines they could stretch 30 yards or something like that, but wow. All that in such a small area. Poop is weird, you know? Do you ever feel like, after you poop, you get this incredible relief from the inside? Maybe it's just me. I love to poop. I feel the same way about farts.
1a) Why do you poop okra seeds? How about corn? It's like your turds have polka dots.
Ok...enough poop talk.
2) Why do girls think it is ok to wear leggings as pants? Leggings are not pants...they are leggings. If I can see the cellulite through your tights (because that's essentially what they are...thick tights), you need to cover up. A long shirt, a dress, shorts, whatever it takes. Pants are pants. Leggings are leggings. Wear them as they were meant to be worn.
3) Ever eat cheese that had mold on it that you scraped off so you could save the cheese?
4) Let's go back to farts. I think that men who don't think women fart are idiots. Seriously? Women don't fart? Oh, I suppose they don't breathe or drink water either. Everyone farts!
5) Why do people think it is necessary to have a riding lawn mower to cut a patch of grass that could fit inside of a hot tub?
6) Am I the only one who thinks it is rude to talk on your totally stupid, blue tooth headset while at the doctor's office, grocery store, post office, or other public place? I don't care about your friend, Shirley, or how long it took you to pick out the kind of pizza you wanted for dinner, or gaaaaawd, the kind of tampons your wife asked you to buy.
7) On television, why are most cops, detectives, etc. all super duper fit and super duper good looking? That's not life. Most cops, at least the ones I know (with the exception of a very few) are overweight, average looking, and couldn't stand in front of a fan to blow their hair all around if they wanted to...
8) I think it is amazing that a woman can pee all over a toilet seat. We don't have the ability to aim, yet they manage to get loads of dribbles on the toilet seat. Would it kill these chicks to wipe the seat off? It IS their urine, after all.

Are you grossed out by these things? I clearly am not. It is important that we discuss these things in depth, or else we will be subjected to a solitary search of the internet (where looking for something like "rash on elbow" instantly indicates scabies, skin cancer, or an infected llama bite <<but I wasn't even in CONTACT with a llama!!>>).

Do you have ay disgusting questions you often wonder about or would appreciate an answer to eventually? Let's talk about them!

A zazzy look into the life of a misguided 30-something: Family Vacations and Weight Watchers

A zazzy look into the life of a misguided 30-something: Family Vacations and Weight Watchers: Weight Watchers is killing me. Perhaps this is how people lose weight...they slowly die from the inside out. I am not sure, but I can tell ...

Family Vacations and Weight Watchers

Weight Watchers is killing me. Perhaps this is how people lose weight...they slowly die from the inside out. I am not sure, but I can tell you, if I have to consume one more cucumber, carrot, grape or apple, I believe I will spontaneously combust (or just die from embarrassment when the gigantic fart that's been building inside of me for days finally hhits). I am making progress, however. I have been going for 2 weeks and I am down a solid 3 pounds. For this Cheeto-loving, chocolate chip-eating, extra sweet coffee drinker, that's pretty good. My friend, Sandy, has been a real inspiration with the WW thing - she's almost 100 pounds down! HOW FREAKING AWESOME IS THAT!? 

I will admit, I was a bad girl at the beach as evidenced here:

Me and party-sized bag of "yum"

Party sized Cheetos? Seriously? Yes. Party of one: me. So sad. But so delicious. I believe this what English buffs refer to as a "catch 22". Side note: polka dots are your BFF when it comes to hiding a kangaroo pouch like the one I have hidden behind the Cheetos.

But I digress. My goal: to lose 25 pounds by Christmas. It will happen. I am sure I will be a miserable wretch but I am going to do it. OK. Enough of that. I just needed to whine.

In case you're wondering where I have been, the answer is simple: my sweet family came down to SC to visit me! What a great time we had! We hung around Greenville, ate barbeque, went to Charleston, saw a baseball game, played mini-golf, went on a Charleston harbor cruise, did some boogie boarding at the beach and managed to survive the 100+ degree weather! It was extra fun - we usually don't get visitors, so it's always nice when your favorite people come out of hiding to play. Here's a pic of my brothers and another of the three of us. Cuties, are we not?

Super, awesome little brothers

the three amigos

 I managed to get stung by a jellyfish. That sucker got me on both legs, my neck and my wrist. Jeez, did that hurt. I didn't think I was capable of running out of the water as fast as I did (seriously, I had to quit water aerobics because it was "too hard").  But out I ran. As I made it to land, I was swearing to myself (shit, shit, shit, shit!!), located my wallet, and scraped those skin-tearing barbs out of my legs with a credit card (they may have no available space for purchases, but they were good for something!). Off to the lifeguard station for a spray of vinegar and viola! Back in the water I went. 

While the sting was still, eh, stinging, Peter and I did manage to pass the time appropriately:

We rounded out our trip to Charleston with a harbor cruise - very neat! We cruised around Fort Sumter, looked at old naval vessels, saw dolphins and a bunch of other neat sights. Here is a view from under the Ravenel Bridge:

When we were back in Greenville, Andrew made wishes in a downtown fountain. I hope they come true!

I think everyone had a great time. I know I did. And you may be asking yourself about my sweet, adorable husband. Where was he on this vacation? Well, when you are a teacher (as several of my friends know), there is no rest for you. He was at home prepping lectures, writing notes, preparing the almighty syllabi and enjoying some quiet. He was definitely missed!

If you can't say something nice...

This saying is usually followed up with something simple like, "then don't say anything at all" or something more snappy like, "then you're in good company". Today, I might need to have my vocal cords severed; I'm being downright mean.

Have you even wanted to punch a co-worker in the throat? Imagined how great it would be if you told other co-workers to shut the <<bleep>> up because the sound of their voice was making you want to get run over by a bus? Wanted to tell the woman talking to you a little too closely that her smelly breath was about to kill you? Fought the urge to pick up a screaming, bratty kid and drop them off the second floor balcony at the mall? Wished you approached the gross young couple groping each other in the park and smacked their heads together so they'd get bloody noses and stop licking each other's faces? Thought about how awesome it would be to trip someone who made you mad and enjoy the 2 seconds of fear on their faces as they fell to the ground? Dreamed about saying 'no' when your boss asked you to do something you deemed stupid or a waste of time and then told them to leave your office because you were really busy playing online games? Contemplated popping the tire of the jerk who cut you off at the gas station, pulling in the wrong way so he had to pull the hose aaaaaaall the way over the top of his car?

No? Hmm. Maybe it IS just me.

Hence, today, I will sit in my office and keep quiet. I am bound to say something I'll regret (or the way I say something will undoubtedly come out wrong) and I will feel bad for the rest of the day. I am hateful on the inside, but I also have a heck of a conscious. Oh, and I am Catholic, so I carry EXTRA guilt around with me 24/7.

In other, less hateful, news, I started doing Weight Watchers. I was asked when I was going to have my baby (payback perhaps for the beach-bashing???) and when I announced I was NOT pregnant, the question was immediately rebutted with, "how many weeks postpartum" I was...EEK. Not good. So, thanks to my awesome BFF, I am on my way to losing some weight. I've got a 20 pound weight loss goal before Christmas. I think I can do it. I hope I can do it. I can't start punching pregnant people who ask me "when I'm due". Therefore, I need to work my tail off.
Last night, I tried a recipe for "healthy cookies" which I really thought was going to be the most disgusting concoction known to (wo)man. They were DELICIOUS!!! This recipe was on a card that I got from my wedding (7 years ago) and I FINALLY decided to make them.

They are easy:
--2 ripe, mashed bananas
--1 cup of oats (quick cook or rolled)
--a handful (or half a bag, whatever) of chocolate chips, raisins, nuts, etc.
 Mash bananas in a bowl, stir in oats and add "extras".
Bake at 350 for 15 minutes.
They look like this:

I was pleasantly surprised (so surprised that I ate 6 cookies...this was NOT a surprise). Even Randy liked them. 

Time for coffee, more "healthy cookies" and more coffee. Let's hope I am feeling a little less snarky tomorrow.

Nah, that wouldn't be any fun.

Beach babes

Do you like to go to the beach? If so, you probably go for one of the following reasons: to get a bitchin' tan, to play in the ocean, to "get away" from everything, or maybe even because you want to soak up some of the sandy nightlife. I have to agree...all of those reasons are on my list. But the real reason I enjoy the beach so much?? PEOPLE WATCHING! My ideal beach day includes a sunny, warm, breezy one, with plenty of snacks in my cooler, my SPF 50, a beach chair and TONS of people. People are the most bizarre of all God's creatures. More strange than the Meerkat, more awkward than the sloth, and definitely funnier than your family pet.

Saturday was a particularly glorious people watching day, most likely because they have had rain in Charleston, SC for what seemed like MONTHS and this was a really perfect day for the beach. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, the water was warm and the beautiful breeze I desired was blowing sweetly over my hairy legs (don't ask). My friends and I drove down to the shore extra early, set up camp and waited. At first, things were slow, but then...whoa...then they got amazing!

Now you know as well as I know that the beach is no place to be worried about how amazing (or NOT amazing) you look in a bikini! There are all kinds of bodies: big ones, small ones, fat ones, long ones, super obese bodies, bodies that need to eat at a buffet, hairy, smelly, dirty, fit, pale, tan, and burnt bodies...seriously...EVERY KIND! The beach does not discriminate. What I WISH would happen is that the people involved in picking out the outfits for said beach patrons (or the dressing room attendants, or the children of, or the significant others/friends of the guilty**) would pull them to the side and say, "EEEEEKKKKK!!! What the hell?! You cannot wear that!!!". But they don't. So the door is open. And I gladly accept the invitation to giggle at their expense. And say what you will about me. You know you are guilty of doing the same crap, so get off your high horse and laugh a little.

Ah, our first sight! We will call this woman "socks". "Socks" was wearing her husband's button up work shirt, a fancy beach hat, socks and sandals (my least favorite combination). Well, the sandals came off, but guess what? The socks didn't! She yelled at her husband in the socks, ate an ear of corn in the socks and even went down to the waves in her socks. Eventually, she took them off...I assume once her toes started rubbing together with sand. People are bizarre. If she was wearing them for burn protection or something, how about water shoes? Not mid-shin, white work socks.

Then came this interesting family. Everyone's bathing suits were 2 sizes too small. It was almost tragic and I felt sorry for them. But, not to my surprise, they were all pumped about how amazing they looked. This might have been the mom. If her suit crawled any further up her butt cheeks, someone would have needed to use a dandelion picker to wedge it out of there. The family also brought a WHOLE watermelon to the shore...not a cut watermelon...a whole one. So. Weird.

Two-toned chest hair man was also funny.Totally reminds me of someone who would have been (maybe) super hot in the 70s and was trying to carry all that over to the now. Ick, dude.

Photo credit: my awesome pal, KKW!

Finally, people who think that women are the only ones who embarrass themselves in public with their summer suit choices are crazy. Men are guilty, too! My favorite was this fella - thought he was the cat's pajamas (it means he thought he was really cool). When you are, in reality, a 36" waist, please don't buy a 28" suit. Sheesh! Muffin tops can strike anyone at any time...no one is safe.

If you ever want a buddy to assist in beach gawking, let me know! I am always down for a day of fun. And hey, I will even make sandwiches! 

** and yes, I realize I have NO room to talk. I do, however, extend a tremendous effort to remain covered and decent. Hopefully, I am the talk of someone's blog postings. That would make me an internet sensation! Holla!

Ps. I had some amazing pictures from the weekend which my husband advised me to not post. If you see me, just ask to see them. I will share at will!

Pps. Sorry, husband, I couldn't resist. 

Craigslist

Last night, I went on Craigslist looking for a used dresser to put in my closet so I can store some t-shirts. I stumbled across the most HILARIOUS posts. Maybe I'm living in the dark ages, but I had no idea there were singles ads on there! Wow, there was some awful, funny, awfully funny, pathetic and just plain bizarre stuff out there. Here are a few of my favorites:

AD: Single male looking for skinny/petete lady to pet, pamper,go places,& do things with, for ltr. I have every thing we need "except you' and I'm financeially secure to have a great life !.I enjoy all normal things and travel. I am not a sports Fanantic like most men. I want to enjoy my mate and being with my mate doing things together. 

For starters, you do NOT have everything you need "except you". You need a dictionary, spell check, and the ability to post a 3 sentence singles ad without grammatical errors. Your perfect mate will have lots of work to do on you.

AD: Going on vacation in a week and I want to hook up with someone before I go. I am extremely good looking, fit and all around amazing. You need to be very petite, clean, cute and discrete. Do not be younger than 19 or older than 23. Your pic gets mine. 

If you have to advertise for wanting to hook up, you must not be everything you say you are. I am sure you're practically deformed, toothless, and a class-A LOSER. Wait until you go on vacation - or better yet, take a cold shower, Romeo.

 AD: Do you like massages? I am a white man who is looking for a woman to give a soft gentle massage to help you relax!! You will not be disappointed. 

This is just plain creepy. He posts every day. Guess what, dude? No one wants to take you up on your gross offer.

AD: Tired of all the drama of dating sites. I'm looking for someone to text and build a friendship off of that, which could turn into more. I prefer 18-26yr women. Race is open and I like bbws. Please reply back with your favorite color in the subject line and also include a picture. No fakes or spammers.  

Ugh, where do I begin? I am not sure what "bbws" stands for (this might not be a bad thing). Who wants to start a relationship via text message? Maybe you're tired of the dating sites because they are stupid. Get off your ass and meet people. Then you can TALK to them face-to-face. What a novel concept.

AD: do you think you have a nice ass? I think im a pretty good judge of nice butts. ladies send your pics and the best one gets a free 30 min massage. I'll email the winner and ..... NO guys! no bbw.. no ***** shots.. just a booty pic. Have a great week! 

Disgusting. And who the hell answers these weirdos??? Clearly no one because this guy has been posting every day for the last month. Hands to yourself, dude.


ANOTHER GOLDMINE IS THE "MISSED CONNECTIONS" SITE!

I am laughing with every post I read. Are these people complete idiots? Who goes on Craigslist to discuss the "hottie they met at the bank" or "the fella with braces behind me in line at the gas station"???? "oh, I hope you feel the same way". This is a hoot! Here are my favorites from the last week:

AD: Really hot cashier working tonight at the Lil Cricket! Would love to get to know you even if just as friends! Message me with your name 

AD: I know this is crazy, but I can't talk to you in the lunch crowd! You work in fast food on Haywood Rd and have short blonde hair. I am a middle aged male with brown hair. I come in during lunch at least twice a week usually with another woman. We exchanged double glances and smiles when you re-filled my tea. I could not take my eyes off of you and I didn't want to walk away. Sounds so cliché...but this really is a missed connection that doesn't happen very often. I am reminded of the James Blount song, "Beautiful"

AD:  You're the supervisor on the bending side of the plant we both work at. I know you see me staring at you constantly. Whew, I can't help it. lol. You are so hot! I would love to get to know you, and hang out. or hell might have a quickie in the bathroom at work too. Just touch me already. haha. :) I hope you see this. Reply back with a picture and proof its you. 
 
Oh, God. Those are making me laugh so hard my belly is hurting. Take a few minutes out of your day today and read some of these postings in your area. Do you have a favorite? Share it!



PS. I didn't find a dresser.

Hair-do, hair-don't

Ugh, Piggy (me) needs Cheetos.

Yesterday was an insane day. People will tell me, "geez, it seems like this crazy stuff only happens to you..". Well, it does. I am VERY nice and sometimes that makes for an easy target. Or, maybe it's just that I am too sensitive and people don't mean to say things the way I take them. Whatever the reason, I find I frequently have a story to share.

As I sit here and devour this orangy goodness like a savage, I will tell you all about yesterday and the haircut.

I needed a haircut in the worst kind of way - I was overdue by maybe 3-4 months. Fortunately my hair is long, but not TOO long, so I am having a hard time pulling off that "Little House on the Prairie", hipster, college broad look. I just looked like I needed a haircut. I found a place not too far away from my house earlier this year and they gave me a good haircut last time, so I called them up to see if I could get in for a trim. Yep. Got an appointment. Sweet.

I arrived early and they took me early (SCORE). "Come on back...". So I went, over to the sink where she was. A HUGE SIGH..."UUGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH...did you want your hair washed????" Um, hell yes, I do. I worked all day and want someone to massage my scalp for a few seconds. "Oh, um, no. I guess I don't...". She told me some crap about not being able to see the ends of my hair when they are wet vs being able to when they are dry. Can any of my stylist friends confirm this? I digress.

I take my seat and prepare for the dry cut and think I am hallucinating. "Do you use heat protector when you straighten your hair?" Um, is she talking to me? "No, I haven't straightened my hair in over 2 years...I blow dry on cold and use a brush to make it straight...", clearly thinking this would suffice. "Well, it is NOT working for you. You need to use a heat protector because your hair is breaking off and looking not too great. And WHEW! All these gray hairs! Have you ever contemplated coloring???" Now I am mad. I like my gray hair (no I don't, that's total BS, but I am going with it. I am too lazy, cheap - ok, broke - and nervous to color it, so I decided about 2 years ago that I wasn't going to. Randy likes it, he says it gives me character and when your hunky hubs likes it, well, then, whatever).

It was literally a 20 minute question barrage. Everything from, "what kind of brush do you use?" "I don't know...a brush..." SIIIIGGGHHHH!!! There are 4 different kinds of brushes...what kind do YOU use? (grabs 4 brushes from her drawer) This one? This one?" "Mmmmm...one like that..." "Well, this is NOT working for you!" to, "Your heat protector is not doing its job..." "Yeah, that's probably because I don't use one..." "WHAT!!!??? Your hair could be a lot more healthy looking if you did." Probably true, but I don't give a crap.

She doesn't want me to blow dry my hair or put it in a pony tail. I was also instructed to use some $200 oil AND a $100 heat protector that will, "if you're super lucky, last 2 months". Let's face it. I am not going bald. I have thin hair that is starting to get gray. I do not have the producers from the commercials for Pantene Pro-V beating down my door, pleading with me to share my hair with humanity. It is, however, clean, always brushed and somewhat healthy.

Bottom line: I need a new stylist. My last stylist never had an appointment available and this one wants me to sell my soul to some random god of hair-care and damage prevention. Not going to happen. All I want is for someone to wash my hair, ask me how my day was, cut off my split ends, tell me I look like a million bucks and then say "good bye!". Is that too much to ask??? Clearly it is. Given situations like this, I find it hard to believe that the Flowbee never took off.



Source:
YouTube (link embedded in post)

Sayōnara

I am known for 2 things in my neighborhood: 1) being the crazy woman whose man-eating dogs are always getting loose and 2) for having really pretty flowers. Milly and Pip do get out sometimes, and I do have really nice flowers, so I guess you can say both things are true. Usually, my roses are stunning: bright red, plentiful, and always nicely overgrown. This year, however, I am at war with my least favorite of all insects: the Japanese beetle.

I can remember being a little tot and my grandmother would outfit my brother and me with some old-fashioned equipment to go "beetle hunting" to "teach those dishere beetles a lesson". If you knew my gram or if she was your gram, too, then you distinctly remember her famous phrase, "dishere". She was pretty cool. Every summer, our job was to spend a few minutes a few times a day beetle-slaying. I loved this job. We would rid her roses, pussy willows, fruit trees and grapevines of these little beasts. Today, I am going to teach you how to do it. You need 3 things:

1: An empty can of vegetables, fruit cocktail or pork n' beans (or whatever)
2: Some gasoline
3: A keen eye for killing

Directions:
Carefully open can, leaving enough metal around the rim so the top doesn't completely come off. Eat contents of can (lest we be wasteful), rinse and let it dry.

Next, go to the garage (or wherever you keep your gasoline) and fill the can about 1/2 way.

Then, go to the nearest bush, tree, or vine, look for beetles and gently tap those hungry little bastards in the gasoline. They will attempt to swim, then curl into a little ball and croak...the way nature intended. Want to eat my roses down to the stem?! CHOKE ON THIS!

VICTORY IS MINE!

 (beetle on top and "too ambitious of a push into the can dead rosebud" on bottom)

You will find that within a few weeks, your flowers will start to look beautiful again. I still have a LONG way to go (Randy originally suggested getting a Japanese beetle trap...um, no) but they look better each day.

Reclaim your flowers, vegetables, grapes and other fruit!!! Kill those beetles Grandma T. style!!!

zzzzzzzzz...

Man, isn't this the truth? I've got this magnet on my fridge and I have to admit, it's one of my favorites. I feel like, as a society, we spend every minute of every day rushing to the finish line, only to sleep, wake up and do it all over again.
That's at least how I spend my days. And WOW, do I get tired by Friday night. How does my day play out? I'm so glad you asked. Let's start at the beginning:
4:45am: wake up and slam alarm to snooze one time
4:52am: slam alarm again...final time, I SWEAR!
5:00am: drag myself out of bed, telling myself that if I pee in my bed, I will have a wet, grumpy husband and a big mess to clean up.
5:01am: morning pee (ah...hey, you asked)
5:02am: get dressed for the gym
5:10am: grab clothes for the day and go downstairs
5:20am: make a speedy breakfast (eggs and oatmeal), get crap to car, fill water bottle, grab delicious breakfast, sneak the dogs a few cookies before I depart
5:25am: leave for the gym
5:45am: teach fitness class
6:30am: shower and get dressed for the day
7:10am: leave the gym and hit Dunkin Donuts, then drive 45 minutes to work
8:00am-3:30pm: work a full day...through lunch...so I can leave and be on time for my third job
3:30pm: drive an hour to the dance studio
4:30pm-6:45 or 7:30pm: teach dance classes
8:00pm (I am usually home, give or take 30 minutes)
8:05pm: complain to Randy how tired I am, crab all around the house and eat something; walk Milly and Pip
8:30pm: shower
8:45pm: get on matching pajamas and brush teeth, remove contacts and brush hair
9:00pm: lay out clothes for the NEXT day, pack a lunch, crab a little more, play with Milly and Pip
9:30pm: go downstairs and watch tv until promptly passing out on the couch
10:45pm-2:00am (somewhere in this time frame): migrate upstairs, crab about having a stiff neck from being ill-positioned on the couch, sleep until the alarm goes off

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Granted, every day isn't so "timely" but it's extremely close. I mean, you start your day off late and BAM! Screws your schedule up in a big kind of way.

Then comes Saturday. The day I magically morph into a college kid again...sleeping until noon, wallowing around in my pajamas until 2pm. Not the case for my ambitious and awesome husband, however. By noon, he has already walked Milly and Pip (twice), gone for a bike ride to the gym and back, made a dump run, cleaned the kitchen and probably graded papers or wrote a lecture (he is a professor or MATH). Then I feel bad because I am slack-tastic, and before I know it, it's Saturday night.

I am not really sure why I beat myself up like this...all I know is that I am grateful for a husband who is responsible for our furry babies so I can do all of these things. I am not bragging or complaining - just simply stating a fact. I am unsure how people with children do all these things. I would no doubt lose my mind or cry all the time or take an 18 year break at a nice nuthouse or something.

I guess I do it because I love it. I love my friends at the gym. They are great! We have such a character collection there, it makes it worth getting up in the morning. It's also nice to know that, when you drive almost 3 hours a day, you've already gotten your fitness on. Work-work is fine. I have good coworkers who work hard and are fun to be around. The population we serve is mostly great, but there are a few wild cards in the bunch. Every day is different and that is very important to me, someone who hates repetition (although, by looking at my day, you would call me a liar). Dance is my fun job. LOVE LOVE LOVE those little people!!!

And, after reading my schedule again to myself, I can only say that I wish I had a bed under my desk like George Costanza. But, since I don't, it is back to work for me.

National " " Day.

Do you know what day yesterday was? I will give you a hint:

That's right. National Cheesecake Day. I celebrated the right way, by indulging myself with a piece of the world's greatest cheesecake, made proudly by my mother in law. I don't know what her secret is...I mean, she gave the recipe to me. I have made it several times. Randy has made it several times. It does not taste the same as hers. Everytime she makes this treat, it is creamy and sweet...SIMPLY DELICIOUS!

I will celebrate most of those silly holidays: national smiling day, national wear a hat day, national act like a pirate day, (and my personal favorite) national hug day. These kinds of days. Want to learn more? Want to participate in national pancake day or national have a British accent day? Check out this great link:

Trailing behind

If you like to bike, walk, run, or people watch, the Swamp Rabbit Trail in Greenville was made for you. I use the trail at least once a week; sometimes I ride my bike, other times I walk or run. It is a gorgeous trail that is paved, safe, and flat. If you like wearing a bicycling outfit that matches, you can ride really fast on the trail and utilize it for speed training. If you are recovering from an injury, it is great for endurance training. Want to gab with your girlfriends or take your kids some place safe to walk? You guessed it...the SRT.

After work, I rode about 30 miles with my friend, Sandra. The weather was beautiful and that can only mean one ting: a packed trail! As you know, a packed place (any place at all, really) is great for people watching...one of my most very favorite past-times. There is always a great cast of characters available for the viewing. It is like HBO without paying the premium. 

Let me try and remember who we saw today...ah, yes. There was...

High as a kite group of walkers. These people were so stoned, I think we got a contact high from zipping past them. There was another group of high walkers as well...I didn't notice them at first, but Sandra did. Eventually, one of the ladies in the first group fell over on the trail. That was funny. 

Creepy man on bike talking to himself. No explanation needed. 

A group of, what I like to call, "serious bikers". These are the schmucks that are sponsored by some company and they feel that they need to don all the fancy, matching gear. I think these people are kind of douchy. My husband bikes, but he doesn't wear the "special" clothing. He survives. I am sure these jokers will, too. 

A lady on a bike pulling her kid in one of those bike carriages/kid trailers. The kid was on is iPad. Really? He can't just watch the scenery? Look for some animals. Take some nice pictures. Give your neck a break. I have seen this once before with my pal, Christine. We said the same thing. Enjoy the view before you give yourself carpel tunnel syndrome.

Stinky guy. This guy needed a bath or some deodorant or both. He was so smelly that when we rode by him, his smell lingered in the air for a good 5-10 seconds. On a bike...wow. Potent! 

A dog being walked by his owner. I know this is not uncommon. This dog looked juuuust like his owner! They even had the same little waddle. It was kind of cute. Ok, it was very cute. Little, chubby Daschund.  Little, chubby owner. Adorable. 

Babies!!! There were tons of babies in the trail! They were all precious. And they had perfect parents...and perfect clothes...and mom wasn't breaking a sweat pushing her twins in her fancy Bobs stroller. One day...one day.

I think that was it. We only had 2 hours to bike. I am sure there will be more funnies next time! 

Pig pile

Some people blog about their kids. Some people blog about food. Some people blog about their pets. Since I only have options 2 and 3, I will post about them today.
This weekend, I made the most scrumptious pork roast. I loaded that sucker in the crock pot, covered it in salt and pepper and let it simmer 12 hours. Gah! It was delicious! When the time came to pull it apart, naturally, I had 2 little helpers. They remained seated, staring and drooling, for over an hour. It was starting to annoy me.

 

I don't know where they got the idea that I would be willing to share. They don't eat table food or "people food" as we like to call it at our house. Now, it seems that whenever they hear the refrigerator door open or close, they zip to the kitchen, take a seat, and wait. 

Literally, an hour went by. Randy and I scarfed our delicious pork tacos. Still sitting there. We had dessert. Still sitting there. I cleaned up. You guessed it...still sitting! Then it happened. I dropped a small piece of fat or another grizzly substance on the floor. ZOOM! They dove in like flies. Pip got it all. Poor Milly. I felt sorry for her so I just flicked a little piece of meat off the counter. And, like two satisfied little imps, went and had a seat with Randy, on the world's smallest sofa, giving the look of "yeah, I wish EVERY DAY is pork day!".

In addition to the pork tacos, we also made pork salads, and pulled pork sandwiches. The dogs didn't get any more freebies.

Nom, nom, nom

Today was a fun day. I woke up a little later than usual (8am! Yeah!), taught a great exercise class and then spent the rest of the day prepping for a surprise party for my mother in law.

In case you need some fitness today, here's the routine I did with my class this morning: kettle bell tabata. If you don't know what tabata style fitness is, check out this link. We performed the following exercises for 8 rounds, each round was 20 seconds of extra hard work, followed by a 10 second rest. After each round was performed, we moved on to the next exercise. Today, we did stationary swings, walking overhead lunges, push ups, walking squat swings, goblet squats, wood choppers, full sit ups holding a kettle bell and then (finally!) fly chest press. Whew! It was a workout for sure!

The cake I am making is from an old copy of Midwest Living magazine. I hope it turns out alright. It is a butter cake with crumb topping and a yummy chocolate drizzle on top of all that. Have I mentioned I love to eat? Have I also mentioned I am gluten intolerant? Such a predicament when surrounded my delicious sweets. To eat or not to eat?? More like, to have diarrhea or not have diarrhea?? You have to ask yourself these important questions.

I like when I make items around the house because I usually have a little helper named Milly Phillips waiting by my side. She sits in the chair, listening to me tell Randy about my plan for cooking, gives me this look, and then she Velcros herself to my side.

I feel like all I did today was eat. Hummus, chips, cheese, eggs, cucumbers, squash...the list goes on. Sad part is, I am still hungry. Perhaps I should eat a real meal instead of a bunch of snacks. Hmm, fortunately, it is almost dinner time :)

Source: 

www.tabatatraining.org (link included in website)

The not-so-charmin bears

Are my friend, Christine, and I the only people in the world who think these bears are creepy and disgusting? Who has bits of tp all over their butts after they wipe? GROSS! I mean, I have seen some hairy butts in my day, but hairy enough to leave cottonball sized paper pieces? I think not.
I also hate the commercials they put out. "The Inspection Station" and "Mom using a pan and brush to scrape the toilet paper off the kid's butt"...ugh. Those are the worst! If you don't know what I am talking about, check it out here.
These bears are like people: they play sports, they read stories, they share laughs...why do they poop in groups? I feel as if they have gotten very worldly in a very short amount of time. Seriously, evolution takes millions of years, not a few rounds of horrible tv commercials. We go from pooping in the woods, to using toilets and driving cars? Not in my world...

Do these woodland creatures bother anyone else? What is your take on them? I would love to hear your thoughts!



Source:
Youtube (link to video in post)

Ricky Raccoon has died too soon...

...because I squattered him on my way to the gym this morning. Talk about feeling TERRIBLE! I have only run over 2 things in my whole life (well, 3 if you count my dad's foot). I killed a squirrel when we first moved into the house. Ugh, he didn't have a chance. I literally watched his run over body get chucked from under my tire to the side of the road. And, the biggest and most sad kill had to be when I ran over my neighbor's cat. Yes, I told them about it. 
Anyway, this morning, I was running extra late. Should have left the house at 5:25am, but I didn't get up until then. So, naturally, I was speeding to get to the gym on time. I hurriedly rounded a sharp corner, saw their little eyes in the headlights and, before I could stop...CRUNCH! I'm sorry, Ricky Raccoon. I'd like to think that you probably had rabies and perhaps I put you out of your misery. I'm not sure about the health status of the squirrel of my neighbor's cat (at the time of the killing...I mean, now their health status is 'DEAD').

 In loving memory:

May they rest peacefully, without birds pecking out their eyes.

LOVES!

Yesterday, I promised to tell you some of the things I love.

Love #1: My brothers! Man, oh man. I think having siblings you hated would be the worst thing imaginable. I've got 2 super brothers...and the littlest one turns 13 today! Yikes! Where did the time go???

Love #2: COFFEE! Addicted? I think yes. I expressed my love of Dunkin Donuts in yesterday's post. It's so true.

Love #3: Nature. Nature is one of those amazing things that man tries to control, but usually fails miserably...especially when it surprises us. A few weeks ago, the sky turned pink. It was beautiful.

Love #4: CARBS! Eeep!! I eat too many of them (hence my big ol'belly). My particular favorites would have to be Cheetos and Cocoa Pebbles. Delish. Pleas hold...now I need a snack...

<<I am back.>>

Love #5: Christmas. I love Christmas decorations, carols, cookies, movies, presents, cards, sweaters, meals, EVERYTHING!

Milly and Pip

Milly and Pip Phillips are the dogs lucky enough to live with us. They have pretty swanky lives. Milly enjoys the finer things in life such as $12 plush squeaky toys, sleeping in a human bed under the sheets and being blow-dried every morning. She also enjoys judging me when I tap dance in the house. Pip, on the other hand, does not enjoy the finer things...he likes doing athletic and gross stuff: catching a Frisbee, playing with $1 squeaky teddy bears from Target, peeing on the floor, and eating the crotches out of dirty underpants. He doesn't like to be caught doing bad things, but it happens at least once a day.

Milly

Pip

Me, Milly and Pip

Stuff I hate

Today, my loyal readers (all 2 of you), you will learn about stuff I hate. I originally didn't think I hated too many things, but now I am reconsidering this notion. I have a long list. I'll spare you the petty ones and leave you with the good stuff:

Hate #1: I hate ordering a coffee (XL Hazelnut, decaf, extra cream and sugar) only to wait behind some bozo who has ordered 5 breakfast sandwiches, 3 bagels with cream cheese, 2 coffees and a dozen donuts. I am already late for work and now I am even later because we had to wait for the people to make you a full course meal for 6. It frustrates me. No, it infuriates me. I love Dunkin Donuts coffee. I am a loyal patron at least 5 times a week - often visiting twice in one day. Therefore, I feel obligated to share my ideas with them. I have suggested they implement 2 lines: one line for JUST coffee and another line for coffee "and". I am still awaiting a reply from DD on this matter.

Hate #2: I hate when people tell use the word "retarded" to describe someone's behavior. Words hurt, so think twice. Sentences like this make my skin crawl: "Hey man, that's so retarded of you." or "Why are you acting so retarded right now?" or "I always seem to get retarded after a night of drinking!" Um, no. Consider using another word to describe the situation - the dictionary is FULL of words that will make your chat better. Maybe you really meant to say "Hey man, that's so crazy of you" or Why are you acting so silly right now?" or "I always seen to get wild after a night of drinking!" See? I'll call you out if I hear it...and no one likes to be embarrassed by me. 
 
Hate #3: I hate walking into a public bathroom only to find there is 1) pee all over the seat, 2) a toilet that should have been flushed 3 uses ago, 3) no toilet paper and 4) someone who rudely cuts ahead of you in line because "it's an emergency". Please prove it is an emergency by peeing your pants. Also, flush the toilet and wipe off the freaking seat.

Hate #4: I hate seeing moms who dress younger than their teenagers. This is insane. If you are in competition with your daughter because you want to feel young, hip and adorable again, you need a reality check. Stop wearing her boyfriend jeans from J.Crew and give her back the necklace that her friend, Julie, bought her for her birthday last week. Furthermore, no one wants to see your very tan cleavage or the thong you're wearing. Pack it up, sister.

Hate #5: I hate when you go into your closet at the beginning of the summer, confident that you've lost some weight since last year, go to try on all those "end of the season bargains" you bought for cheap and realize nothing fits you. You look like a pink and green pig in your bathing suit, the shorts that were too big last August now make your legs look as if they were crammed into a sausage casing, and the shirts you bought are so tight that you have a small layer of back fat creeping towards your boobs.

What are some things that you hate? 

Tomorrow, I will tell you 5 things I love, starting with my most favorite!