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.