I Have to Stop Watching Lost

Did you catch last night's Lost? I am a bit of a hypochondriac and I freaked myself out today after watching Desmond experience his weird time-travel crap. I was in Costco the and I had unloaded my stuff onto the belt and then I looked down and there was a huge barrel of two-bite brownies and another barrel of blueberry mini-muffins. I was startled like, "OMG, I do not remember grabbing those" and sure enough I hadn't. They belonged to the woman in line before me.

The Sun Shone Down, Part II

I just read that H&M is opening a store in the mall near my house. How cool is that? I will probably never buy an item from there but I'm all excited at the thought of having access to H&M.

You have probably figured out that I haven't worked out yet today since I'm not singing it from the rooftops. I have been working on baby shower stuff and I'm about to cross the things that I've accomplished off of my list and make a new list of things left to do. And yes, I have no real list, as I am not that organized and I don't like to be bossed around by a piece of paper.

Holy Shit I'm Tired

I worked out for an hour this morning, then have cleaned my house for the rest of the day. I am so tired. I can't imagine how tired moms that keep their homes clean and exercise/do something meaningful every day. Here I was thinking this stay-at-home mom deal was a breeze. I guess it's only a breeze until you step on the scale and see a number that scares you more than if Freddy Krueger himself popped in.

ETA: I just re-read what I wrote and it doesn't even make sense. I decided to leave it up as it is so that you would know just how tired I really am. I can hear you saying "Awww" from here.

OT Thursday

I just finished doing the Turbo Jam 20-minute workout and the 40-minute Turbo Sculpt. I feel really good. I think this is the first time that I have worked out four days in a row, like since Army basic training 12 years ago. I do feel stronger and more coordinated when I'm doing the workouts. I'm still scared of that damned Cardio Party but I hope to conquer that fear the next time I do it, which is tomorrow.

I have a big temptation coming up here Saturday night. I'm hosting a baby shower here and I know the food and booze will be hard to resist. My plan is to fill up on veggies and shrimp and stick to one cocktail or glass of wine. Or three beers...

Operation Thindown: Whiny Wednesday

I am sore from Ab Jam. That's a good thing, right? It's not the Holy-fuck-I-cannot-move sore, just the type of sore that lets you know your ass worked out yesterday. I'm about to drop Moggie off at preschool and come home to do the 45-minute Cardio Party. Yay. Huzzah. Cannot wait... I am having trouble convincing myself that I want to work out but honestly as I'm working out I have a good time and I do feel better for doing it.

OT Tuesday

I just finished the 20-minute Turbo Jam and the 20-minute Ab Jam. That Ab Jam will kick your ass before you know it!

Have you done your workout? I'm extremely lazy and hate working out but I managed to live through it so you can, too.

When Christianity and Dentistry Collide

Moggie goes to a Christian preschool. Last week, the school focused on dental hygiene and Moggie came home with a brochure, a new toothbrush and some other little goodies from the dentist's office that sponsored this year's event. Flash forward to today, and I hear her sweet little voice while I was gearing up the vacuum to clean up the remnants of a straw hat (thanks, Wiener Dog) and she said:

You have to brush your teeth so that they don't turn brown and fall out of your mouth. Thank you, God. Jesus will be very happy.

Operation Thindown: Coming Clean

Ok, how was today for you? I attempted to work out this morning and had a crick in my neck and prepared myself for a slow, miserable death on the playroom floor. I finally stopped being overly dramatic and dragged myself to the shower and turned the head on the pulse setting and let the water beat the cramp out of me. It worked! I'm still a little sore in the shoulder/neck area but I'll live. While I was naked, I did my measurements. I measured upper arm, chest, waist, hips and thighs. Talk about a flippin' wake up call. Sheesh.

I fired up my DVD and did the 20-minute turbo workout and then the 40-minute turbo sculpt (strength training) when that was done because I was in the mood for working out. I stuck to my points and ate healthy food, and drank lots of water.

The Timing Sucks

I backed out of the garage this afternoon and heard something (a tricycle) being crushed under my Jeep, then the backup sensor started beeping. I hope the airbags have a better response time.

Not Part of My Plan

I just attempted to work out through the pain of my shoulder cramp and it didn't work out so well. I ended up laying on the floor wishing to pass out so the pain would go away. Unfortunately I stayed conscious and am now walking around with my shoulder pushed up to my jawbone because that's where that muscle wants it to be.

This was the second time I've done Turbo Jam and I really like it. It's fun and it's even teaching this uncoordinated white chick some rhythm. I'm about to go take a hot shower to see if I can work this freaking shoulder out so that I can finish the workout this afternoon.

Operation Thindown: Monday

Ok, ladies. Your assignment for the weekend was to get 1) Full-length picture and 2) Eating Plan. I went into the weekend with #2 accomplished but managed to talk myself out of "The Plan" according to the Turbo Jam lady and decided to go for Weight Watchers instead. Why? Because I can eat normal food on WW (and more of it, oink oink). I didn't get my picture done but I will do it this week.

I am writing down and measuring every morsel that goes into my mouth and after I drop Moggie off at preschool I'm coming home to do the Learn and Burn portion of Turbo Jam, and maybe the strength training portion of it if I'm still alive and able to move after Learn and Burn. Actually, I'm in decent shape considering I'm fat as a hog so I can hang with the workouts. I even have a horrible cramp in my left shoulder area but I popped some Advil and should be ok.

After I get this fitness crap out of the way I'm working on the shower favors I mentioned last week.

Point Away From Face

I was fumbling with a can of Febreze spray in the dark tonight with one hand, and it just felt odd. I managed to squeeze the trigger and ended up with an eye full of apple-scented Febreze. I must take a moment to apologize to my friend Ashley, to whom I gave an eye full of Febreze a few years ago. I didn't realize how badly it sucks to have Febreze sprayed into your eye. I shouldn't have peed my pants laughing at you, girl. First drink is on me in May!

My Wiener Dog

Here's a picture of our dog, Charlie. We got her in July and she is just a great little dog. She has a little streak of dumbass in her but she's so pretty she gets away with almost everything. She loves the kids, especially Tootie.

Sand Salad

Fidel had a birthday party deal to hit after work this afternoon at an Irish pub, so I pulled their menu and had him bring me a salad that was described as a Chicken Wonton Salad. Apparently wonton is Irish for sand because that shit was inedible it had so much sand in it. I would go so far as to say someone pranked them and sold them a bag of sand labeled "Lettuce". Fidel shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well, it is pub food". I guess the moral of this story is this: Do not eat pub food unless you are drunk enough to enjoy it.

In completely unrelated news, I was in JC Penney today because I park in their lot at the mall when I need to go to Gymboree and today, I needed to go to Gymboree. Moggie likes to ride the "stairs" (escalator) so I took her up and down and in the process of that, I over hear a group of three older men having this conversation around a rack of jackets:

Old Man A: I can't find the label
Old Man B: Well that's it, the label should be right there
Old Man C: Yeah that's it, that's the Members Only one
Old Man A: Well where's the label? See right here, there's no label
Old Man B: Well that's the same jacket, I reckon they just don't put the labels on 'em any more

That's all I heard but I was laughing at all that commotion over a JC Penney jacket. I don't think I've laid eyes on a Members Only jacket in the past twenty years.

Ok, Chubbs

Yeah, I'm talking to you, blubberbutt. Your assignment for this weekend is to get someone to take a full-length picture of you from the front and from the side. If you are a super genius you can take the picture of yourself. I hear cameras have this function. This will be your before picture. Don't suck in your gut but don't bloat it out either. We won't post these, but you will print them out and mail them all to me. No really, just save it to your computer so that we can do another in 5 weeks, 10 weeks, etc.

You may not use these pictures as evidence of my cult-like influence to get off of whatever crimes you commit in the throes of caloric deprivation. You and I know that we can't control ourselves when we are only consuming 1500 calories a day but I don't think we will be able to convince a jury that we actually lose our minds when we are starving. Perhaps another project for the weekend is drawing up some shirts that read, "Fat chick on a diet, don't cross me." "Get out of my face before I eat you" is another option. I think the first week will be the hardest for us. If we can survive the first seven days we should have a good chance of reducing our muffin tops.

Here's an easy list for you.

• Take full-length picture.
  
• Find food plan suited to you. (I'm doing The Plan included in the Turbo Jam set)
• Warn your loved ones that you are about to get kooky for a while.
• Pray for strength.

We can do this, ladies. Enjoy your last weekend of freedom.

I got uR drugz

Fidel is having some crazy dental issues with two teeth this week. A crown popped off of one and can't be fixed without having his jawbone shaved down, and another crown attempt failed so he has to have a root canal. If you have been married to man, you know that when they are sick, have surgery or dental work, the humane thing to do is to fill them up with pain medicine and get the Hell out of Dodge. Well that may be humane for just one party involved but abandonment is much better than strangulation or stabbing. Unfortunately I can't leave town this weekend because I have a commitment tomorrow morning. My plan is to keep him drugged up and sleeping this weekend until he can have his root canal done on Monday and he should be ok until the next week, when he's having his gums cut off and his jawbone shaved down in preparation for the crown repair. That, my friends, is when the abandonment will begin. I'll leave him with his pain meds and some Slimfast shakes since he won't be able to chew. Now before you think I'm callous, remember that we have two children and I will be taking them out of his hair so that he can rest. Callous would leave the kids with him and head out for a girls' weekend.

Operation Thindown Has Begun

I'm tired of being chubby. This extra weight is making me snore, giving me gout and making me feel like less of a person. I've been taking shit that I wouldn't take for a second if I was thin again so this people-pleasing fat chick is going away and the sassy hot bitch is coming back. Get ready world because I'm Hell on wheels when I feel good about myself.

I did Turbo Jam for the first time since I ordered it a year and 30 pounds ago. I don't know if learning kickboxing moves is good for the people around me but I'm doing it nonetheless. If you know me in real life just don't piss me off because I'm as grouchy and "over it" as a bear woken from hibernation too early. It may serve you well to pray that my ADD kicks in and makes me lose this pissed-at-the-world attitude.

I'm not going to post my "before" picture but I am taking one as soon as I find one of the two memory cards for my camera that are floating around here. I thought about showering and doing makeup before I take my picture but I may as well look like shit and bloat out my belly in the before picture just like they do on the infomercials.

Wish me luck and pray for those around me because I'm on a mission. If you would like to join me in my Operation Thindown sign up here and we will work something out. Well we will work our asses out but we can also do some sort of organized accountability.

May I Please Be Cranky?

Being that I'm a woman, I do have my times of moodiness. Blame it on hormones, lack of sleep, a bad hair day or the phase of the moon, but I am moody. I've met a few women in my lifetime and every one of them has a bad day for no real reason every now and then. This is hardly a newsflash but apparently the man I've been married to for the past eleven years doesn't understand that I can be grouchy without it meaning I want him dead.

I woke up late this morning, in the middle of the wrong part of my sleep cycle because I had been semi-awake for the last two hours trying not to snore. I'm rushing to get Tootie out of the house in time for school and trying to feed Moggie so that she doesn't have a meltdown while Fidel stands around clicking on his blackberry and playing with dogs. And I haven't had coffee yet. It's simple math, really. (Me running out of time + you not helping) - morning coffee = raging bitch wife. There's no need to make it out to be more than it is. If there is time for psychoanalysis of the deeper cause of my bitchiness, there is time to put on a kids shoes or brush their hair, or make the chocolate milk you like you told me you were going to do.

*Disclaimers: No real math was used in this entry. This entry may or may not have been written by the Evil Uterus. Helping your wife is like foreplay to her.

The Sex Talk

Tootie is almost six and she has started asking me how babies are made. I credit this new interest in reproduction to the fact that my friend Les is pregnant. The minute Les told Tootie that she had a baby in her tummy, Tootie asked her why she ate the baby. See, Tootie thinks all things are born from eggs that float down from the sky. I don't discourage that idea with her because I'm clueless about explaining sex to children. I never had it explained to me and I figured it out. I never even knew my cuckoo was called a vagina until middle school and I don't know if I've ever called it a vagina out loud. Girls had cuckoos, boys had pee-pees and the two didn't mingle, ever. That method of instruction worked well for me so hopefully it will work for my girls, until they get to middle school and have it explained to them by someone other than me. I can talk about sex with them once someone else makes the introduction and covers the basics. The Baptists left me a little unprepared here.

The Inner Baptist

I'm co-hosting a couple's baby shower for a friend on March 1. The other co-host and I were discussing shower favors and she said she had just attended a couples shower and they got a condom and a mini bottle of booze wrapped in tulle as the favor. The inner Baptist in me shuddered and ran to the pantry for a drink. I can't imagine handing out a condom and a mini bottle wrapped in pink tulle at a party to celebrate a baby! Never mind that a good percentage of babies are conceived due to hooch and a lack of condoms, I just can't see myself handing over a condom to the dad-t0-be's parents. My co-hostess was laughing with evil glee at the thought of gifting the dad's parents with the condom and booze because the dad is a big old perv and he would think it's hilarious, and she said about the mom, "She would just laugh at whatever he laughs at because she doesn't have a brain of her own". I could be standing there barefoot, holding a mason jar of moonshine, covered in pork rind crumbs and still feel trashy for handing over a condom and a mini bottle at a baby shower. We compromised on cute little popcorn favors. I'm making those tomorrow and I'll post pictures in case anyone is interested.

That's Not Nice

When I woke up this morning, Fidel asked me if I had a busy day planned at my boating school. Being that I just woke up, I was confused for a minute and then I figured out he was calling me Mrs. Puff. My next thought was that I need to lose some weight if my husband was calling me a damned pufferfish but then, seeing the crazy firing up in my eyes, he explained that I was puffing in my sleep. If you say so, buddy.

He's Going to Lurve This

I had a social committee meeting tonight for planning our neighborhood Easter egg hunt. I volunteered myself for hiding eggs, boiling eggs for the egg relay race and collecting donated food for drop-off. I volunteered Fidel to be the Easter Bunny, ha ha. He's fighting the idea but I think he would be a fine bunny. I would pull his tail and poke him with carrots until he tackled me and then I'd have to kick the Easter Bunny's ass in front of all the neighborhood kids. I think I may be losing it because this is really funny to me.

Happy Birthday, Moggie!

My baby is four today!

Hockey is for the Birds

In our quest to become more healthy in 2008, Fidel has started going to our local NHL team's practice rink to ice skate for exercise. The thing about Fidel is that he really immerses himself into his interest du jour. I've been calling him Brian Boitano and asking him how he's landing his triple lutzes, but unfortunately he's not taking interest in the figure skating as much as he's taking an interest in freaking hockey. I'm not a sports person but our tv has been on hockey this evening. I went upstairs and took me a nice long shower and shaved everything from the head down, blew out and flat ironed my hair, and came down stairs and hockey was still on. Sheesh. At least when he was having grill mania I got fed nicely. I'm grateful that spring is around the corner because I'd much rather have bbq than watch hockey. BBQing is a husband hobby that I can fully support.

I Completely Suck

This afternoon, I was at the bus stop with some other neighborhood moms. When the kids started piling off of the bus, one mom said, "Did you smile pretty for your pictures?" and I said, "CRAP". I did say that out loud in front of a gazillion elementary school kids and their too-young-for-school siblings, and I did completely forget that it was spring picture day at school. Despite the repeated reminders sent home in the book bag and via email.

The funny thing is that the reminders said to "Wear your best clothes" and I sent Tootie in a Gymboree llama shirt, and a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee and her everyday sneakers. With a non-matching barrette. The good news is that spring pictures aren't in the yearbook, the bad news is that the class picture was made today. Hopefully one mom sent her kid to school in their jammies with unbrushed hair. That would really take some of the shame off of me.

Happy Valentine's Day!

First of all, let me just tell you that if you haven't checked out Pioneer Woman Cooks (--> link is over there) you are missing out. Tonight for VD dinner, I made her garlic roasted mashed potatoes and roasted beef tenderloin, added my own sauteed spinach and it was to die for. Even Fidel, the meat snob, approved of the tenderloin. I also made the chocolate pie she posted this week and O.M.G. Words cannot describe that pie, you just have to make it. I will never again let chocolate pudding mix cross the threshold of my home.

Now that the food discussion is out of the way, I hope you all had a great Valentine's day. I spent the majority of my day being ordered around by a 3-year old tyrant, and the rest of the day cooking. Not very romantic but our dinner was fantastic and soon the children will be in bed. Later we will have a little bow chicka bow bow and the day will be done.

ETA: I notice that none of you want to talk about my sex life. Luckily for you, I went upstairs and crashed out so there's nothing interesting to say.

It's the Flu - Where is that Chilly Willy??

I took Moggie to the doctor this afternoon and came out with a pissed off kid who was just diagnosed with the flu. Do you think the booger germs are any different in your nostrils versus up behind your eyeballs? Moggie had to give the doctor a Look, Bitch for that one. She actually said, "Hey, you POKED me!!" but I know a good Look, Bitch when I hear one. While we were there I asked the doctor about the likelihood of Tootie getting the flu and she said that they were already calling in prescriptions for Tamiflu for siblings and to call them if Tootie developed a fever. That is a good piece of info there, because I gave Moggie a grape Chilly Willy when we got home and she started eating it, and I found Tootie finishing it off. By my calculations, Tootie should break out with her fever on Saturday morning, causing me to miss Moggie's birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese on Sunday. There are times where I'd rather have the flu than spend a few hours at CEC, but I would like to be there for my own kid's birthday party.

For the Love of God

Could someone please tell me how in the fuck to watch a downloaded tv episode on my fucking iPod Touch!?? I'm about to have to resort to digging out the manual and nothing good can come of that, my friends. I have a sick child to get to the doctor and the dishwasher hasn't begun unloading itself yet so there's no way I can allow myself to get caught up in a technical manual. I'm to the point with this iPod that I would probably open the door to anyone ringing my doorbell and shove it at them and say, "Please, just take this goddamned thing" and send them on their way.

Not that my patience has been worn thin by three days with a feverish child or anything, but I have a date with Fidel's coffee machine and a bottle of Bailey's after this appointment with the pediatrician has been completed to my satisfaction. Thirsty Thursday will just have to begin a day early.

Don't Do That

Last night, Fidel cooked a steak for me as an early birthday meal. I had a filet and he had a porterhouse. He was talking about the location of the steaks on the whole cow and showing me how it helped the cow move and I completely lost my appetite for beef. I do not need to be reminded that meat comes from an actual animal, especially while I have a mouth full of that delicious animal. Thank God that I was on the last few bites. I managed to finish chewing that bite enough to swallow it and I fed the last two bites to my dogs. Luckily, I have a horrible memory and soon that conversation will be forgotten and I can start enjoying meat again.

Enough Already!

Here I sit with a sick child, again. I expect some social workers to show up and evaluate me for Münchhausen's by Proxy at any time. (<--You may thank spell check for the proper spelling back there) Given the illnesses in the past two months, my children would be a gift from heaven for lazy MBP mothers. Maybe I'll start an outreach program to let the attention-whore mothers take these two sickies to the doctor's office every other day. I can't even bear to email Moggie's preschool teacher to tell her that Moggie is sick. I'd rather them think we are being lazy than to know that she's here running a fever.

We were just at the doctor's office on Thursday for an ear infection. Now that I think about it, Moggie probably picked up something there. I can only keep her off of the floor for so long, and the dirtier the floor, the harder it is to keep her off of it. I have a little germophobe in me and I cringe at touching things in doctors offices, retail stores and any bathroom that isn't within the walls of my own home. Moggie didn't inherit that sensibility and she prefers to perfect her snake impersonation in any public bathroom or doctor's office waiting room that she can find. I turn around to hang up my purse and in that short amount of time I can hear, "Look, I'm an anaconda. Ana-con-da, say it with me, ana-con-da, say it louder...". She also lives to drink her bathwater. She doesn't wipe her butt properly, then gets into the tub with fecal matter on her, which transfers to the water and goes right down her throat as she sucks water from toys and washcloths. I have begged her, threatened her, taken the toys, and no matter what, that kid will drink her bathwater. Last night I lost it on her and screamed about there being poop in the bathwater and they both looked at me like I had 2 heads or something. F'ing kids.

No He Didn't

Tonight, Fidel and I went to our neighborhood Valentine's Social at the clubhouse. There was a questionnaire to submit about your first date, length of courtship, most embarrassing story, etc. and I was busy running my mouth and I let Fidel fill out the paper for us. I figured we would win "Shortest Courtship" and we did (78 days) but I had no idea that Fidel would include our most embarrassing story on the sheet, to be viewed by our neighbors.

We got married in Hawaii and our reception was in Waikiki. I was 22, Fidel was 27 and we drank a LOT at our reception. On our way to our hotel, I guess I got hot or something because I took off my top. And spoke Japanese to some Japanese tourists on the trolley next to us in traffic. And 11 years later, my husband would tell this story to our neighbors. I'd almost rather that he told them that I wake myself farting in my sleep, but I guess he had to save something for next year.

Wiener Dog Sandwich

Aren't these two cute enough to eat on a sandwich? These puppies have the same parents as our dog. I could just eat them. I just got mauled by a wiener dog but yet I'd grab these two if Fidel would let me. The red one looks just like our Charlie and I'm loving the little black one.

Weather Madness

It is so beautiful here today. I have this odd thing going on though. I'm smiling and being friendly to strangers. I had a 45-minute conversation on the sidewalk in front of Publix with the mom of a classmate from Tootie's preschool class, nearly 3 years ago. I worked in the flower beds out front, breaking off dead stuff and putting it in the garbage. I played ball with the wiener dog and haven't whacked her hard-headed ass with a magazine yet today. I either doubled up on my happy pills unknowingly or I have a case of spring fever.

The workers next door building our neighbors' house are taking a lunch break and instead of pulling their microwave out of the van to plug it into the generator, one of their wives (I'm guessing) just pulled up and opened up the back of her SUV and is pulling out trays of food wrapped in tin foil and my mouth is watering imagining what delicious Mexican goodies they are having. I wish I could walk up with a case of cold Cokes and fix me a plate and eat, too, but they would think I was crazy. I'm envisioning some delicious pork carnitas, wrapped in homemade tortillas. I do love Mexican food.

Brain Damage

I took Moggie to the doctor's office this afternoon to have her ears checked because she has been complaining about her left one hurting. Sure enough, she has another ear infection. But before we got that diagnosis or even spoke to the doctor, she went headfirst into the exam room door and got herself a nice new goose egg on her forehead. I swear she is one bump away from brain damage. She should wear a helmet at all times because she is so damned reckless. I would hate to see how horrible she would have been if she had been born a boy.

We came away from the doctors office with stickers of every children's character known to man and a prescription for another antibiotic. I bet the nurses from the pediatrician's office will be meeting over cocktails this evening to settle their nerves from Moggie's injury. Apparently they had a baby fall off of an exam table and suffer a skull fracture. Thankfully we escaped serious injury and the worst of our concerns at this point is the ugly ass bruise and possible black eye for Moggie's fourth birthday pictures. She will live to crash again.

You Don't Say

Today when I picked up Moggie after ballet, her teacher pulled me aside and said, Moggie was unusually grumpy today, which means she was Hell in tap shoes. I felt like saying, Well DUH! Moggie is always grumpy. She could make a convincing argument for pediatric happy pills. Moggie could cure hippies and new-agers of their natural medicine preferences. Give her to a homeopathic mother and within a week that same mother will be sending roses and chocolates to the good folks at Pfizer for keeping her sane with their beautiful chemicals. I was sane before I had kids, they are to blame for my craziness, folks. For you ladies who aren't blessed with children yet, let me be an example to you. Your sanity will go right out the window.

Anyway, I have an appointment for Moggie with her pediatrician tomorrow so we can medicate the evil out of her. Her breath is smelly and my friend CVO said her ear smells infected (ha ha, yes she's a nut, too) so I'll have her checked out so that she can be less grumpy for her birthday this month. I took the lazy mom approach and booked Chuck E. Cheese this year, per Moggie's request. I know it's not the most elegant celebration for a princesses birthday but it will just have to do. It makes the kids happy and keeps them out of my hair and I don't even have to clean my house.

Check This Out

I am doing some online window shopping for my May cruise, and I found this shop and I love a lot of their stuff. I'm a fan of Anthropologie and these clothes remind me of a lot of the Anthropologie styles and the prices are very reasonable. I was playing around and tried to add a skirt to my cart, and there were places to enter my height, the type of waist I preferred and if I wanted it to be loose-fit, etc. I'm going to order something to check it out but I thought I would share in the meantime. Click here to visit.

Yapping Dogs and Sadistic Dentistry

This morning, just like every morning, we woke to the barking of the neighbors' dogs. After six months of this, I have had it and I contacted our HOA management company to start the process of dealing with the dog problem. The options are to 1) speak directly to the owners, 2) call the police regarding the violation of the county noise ordinance or 3) file an official claim with the HOA who will proceed with the steps to have the dogs removed from the property. I don't want to see anyone lose their pets so I hope that the owners attempt to have those dogs stfu. They have to know the dogs are barking. I have humidifiers and fans running inside the house to try and drown out the noise so we can sleep but you can still hear those yapping bastards.

Fidel is having a worse day than I am. He was lullabied to sleep by the yapping bastards, woke to the yapping bastards and then endured torture for two hours in a dentist's chair. He is having a crown done and the dentist had to numb him three times. He told Fidel that if the 3rd shot didn't work he would have to put him under. Another case of stingy ass medical/dental professionals withholding drugs. I think I'm going to start a foundation for humane medicine and doctors and dentists who promise to provide appropriate pain/anxiety relief will get a special badge to display in the lobby. I think the standard for dental procedures, including cleanings, is a Valium to be taken before leaving home for the appointment. If you have to have any fillings, then nitrous is a must. If I'm coming out of the dentists office with stitches or less teeth than I had when I entered the office, I'm going to need some fentanyl in exchange. I look at it this way: Dentists and doctors are a dime a dozen in this town, I have health insurance and money to pay for my meds, so don't be holding out on me.

Tips for Overcoming Your Coaster Aversion

After this weekend's festivities, I'm here to offer my services to those of you with an aversion to coasters. I am sure you are familiar with the concept of coasters, but before you go into someone else's home and grab a cocktail, you need to confront your obvious fear of coasters head on. Any good hostess will provide plenty of coasters and make sure that her bartender has cocktail napkins stuck to the bottom of each drink that leaves the bar. Please enjoy your cocktail while allowing me to enjoy my wood furniture and mantles for years to come. Be kind to the woods, people. I'm a fan of wood with beautiful inlays, not wood with drink rings. Drink rings bring out the devil in me and I may just have to kick you in the ass if I catch you placing a drink directly upon my furniture. What would your momma do to you for putting a naked drink on her nice coffee table? I will thump your ear for you, so consider this your warning.

Party Pooper

Not literally, thank God. We were well enough to go through with the party on Saturday night, but not well enough to drink much so the evening was pretty subdued. The caterer did a great job on the food and luckily we had enough leftovers to last a few days because I sure don't feel like cooking. The sinus monster has taken over my head so I'll probably be feeling pretty crappy for a while.

We only had one grossly drunk chick and honestly she's always good so it was her turn for sure. I know she feels like shit but it happens to the best of us and it's normally me. Fidel found my camera on Saturday as we were cleaning and then he promptly lost it for me again so I don't have any pictures. There were cameras floating around, so hopefully I will get pictures at some point. I had a really good hair day.

Anyway, I'm glad that the party is over and I promise that I will not be hosting it next year.

Hair Don't

I went to the grocery store on Saturday to get some last-minute party items, and as I pushed my cart around I saw this creature with long, flowing locks. It was a strange hairdo for anyone and I was mesmerized. I headed down the bread aisle and after I made it back up the soup aisle, I saw it, picking through the 10 for $10 bin. I figured anyone with that kind of hair has to be in a band or something, but since he wasn't a Wiggle or the guy from Ralph's World there was no way I was going to recognize him. Seeing him made me reminisce about the days of crushing on Jon Bon Jovi and those other long-hairs like Bret Michaels. I have to give JBJ the exception here because he's still got it going on, but the rest of them just look silly now. Especially silly when you are caught digging through the dollar bin at a suburban grocery store. Rock on!

Was Your House on Fire?

Tonight, I went to Rite Aid and Kroger in my slippers. Uggs bedroom slippers. I couldn't spend another moment listening to the retards in the stands at the Superbowl "Oh Oh Oh"ing. We have some neighbors with 2 huge dogs that bark around the fucking clock and that's what the "Oh Oh Oh"ing sounds like. Those neighbors are lucky that it's a mile drive around to their house even though I could throw a rock and hit their roof, because if it was within reasonable walking distance I'd be over there clubbing those fucking dogs to shut them up. It's not the dogs' fault. The owners moved in, installed a fence and parked those 2 yapping bastards in the backyard and haven't done one thing about the barking in the 6-plus months that they have lived there. Remind me to write a letter to the HOA complaining about them tomorrow.

Anyway, my children still have the runs and Fidel and I have sucky head colds so I had to go out in my slippers to get some children's Immodium for the girls and 2 big ass bottles of Nyquil for Fidel and me. I'm calling my quack tomorrow to get an appointment for a refill of my crazy pills (he only gives me 6 months at a time, like I'm going to get over being crazy or something), have him look at my foot because it still hurts like a mofo, a prescription for my special cough syrup and some prescription diet pills. I'll probably be hauled out of there in a straight jacket for asking for all that and really, I'm ok with that. I'd be fine with a 72-hour vacation. I'd even scream and show out enough so that I could get some good sedatives. 72 hours should be long enough for my children to stop crapping themselves when they fart.

I Have to Get Rid of Spencer

I have a huge photo collage frame sitting in my family room, still unopened. In the center, there is an 8x10 picture of your common random frame couple. They have stared at me for far too long and if I don't get rid of them tonight I feel like I'm going to lose it and throw them off the deck. The guy looks like that freaking annoying Spencer from The Hills, the show I have never seen but I see far too much of freaking Spencer and Heidi staring at me from my Us Weeklys.

This party is driving me to pure bitchiness. I couldn't even look at Rachael Ray on the Ritz cracker box as I crumbled crackers into my chicken soup. I know Fidel thinks I'm crazy but my life is filled with annoying people and I don't need to see Rachel's face or her whack-ass acronym for Extra Virgin Olive Oil in a recipe for some skanky appetizers. Olive Oil, bitch, it's only three syllables. E-V-O-O is four, so it's actually longer. Yes, I'm pretty sure that I've completely lost it. Let's hope I find it before tomorrow night.