Sourpuss

So Dirty

2010-05-17T19:52:00.001-07:00

I haven't laughed this hard in a long time. I came across an article the other day about unintentionally perverted kids toys. I can't believe that this stuff ever made it to market.

Meet one of the Punisher transformers. Apparently it wasn't enough to have the shape shifter look like this...

They had to take it one step further for full transformation...

Now that just looks like it hurts. How exactly would you react to seeing your child play with a toy that looks like he's crapping out a rocket of some sort??

This one is even worse. Check out this popsicle that once you've licked it enough, squirts out a gooey substance. Um, yeah. Only pervy ice cream truck men would be selling this to little kids.

Hey kids, why not hang your clothes on a boner bear.

Or let's play squirt gun war with penis batman. This one just conjures up memories of the SNL cartoon The Ambiguously Gay Duo.

I just don't see how this stuff ever actually made it past the marketing department. Do you think these are the results of disgruntled employees trying to get their company in trouble? No adult in their right mind could think this stuff is innocent. Either way, it made me laugh.

Pregnancy Retarded

2010-03-10T18:29:00.000-08:00

I always knew that once I got pregnant I'd realize how much I don't know about being pregnant. But man, I was way wrong. I know like negative amounts of information about being pregnant. I'm currently 22 weeks along and pretty much freaking out about something new every day.

To start things off, in my first trimester I was pretty sure that everything I ate, put on my skin, or touched was screwing up the baby. I didn't drink alcohol or coffee or smoke crack or anything, but I was convinced I was doing some sort of harm. To this day, I won't stand in front of a microwave when it's on - just in case. One thing they don't tell you about - nightmares. I thought maybe I was a freak because I wasn't having the lovey-dovey-singing-through-a-forest-with-animals-and-my-baby dream. Instead, I have a reoccurring nightmare of people visiting our home to see the baby for the first time. They think he's so cute that they want to take a close up picture with a very large camera. They proceed to drop said camera on his face. Not cool. The most vivid nightmare was being at a metro station with my husband waiting for a train to pull up. A man disguised as a security guard turned to us and opened fire. I get shot in the left rib cage and pretty much die. Did I mention I'm not actually on crack?

In the second trimester, I've managed to develop some weirdo itchy skin rash on my stomach. No joke, I've been scratching my stomach non-stop throughout the day. It looks like the baby is trying to claw out of my skin. Greg and I finally looked up this phenomenon and turns out lucky me, it's due to skin stretching really fast and is the most common rash a pregnant woman can get. Sexy. I've also developed a major intolerance for stupidity. I cannot tolerate people who make stupid comments or do stupid things like waste my time. Let's just say I have major work rage. If someone looks at me wrong at work I'm pretty sure I'll cut them. I've definitely though about introducing my fist to some faces. I can't get fired right? Because I'm pregnant.

My sister-in-law has always told me I have a "sharp tongue" and I've started to notice more and more that she's right. I've been very blunt in telling my husband about the changes that pregnancy has brought on and after reading Jenny McCarthy's very blunt book "Belly Laughs", I'm pretty sure she and I could be the best of friends (solely based on her verbal explanations of pregnancy). The other day we went to the ultrasound tech to find out the gender of our baby. The only thing I could say during the entire thing is "that's crazy", "that's so crazy", "look at that, isn't that crazy"? They just laughed at me. Probably because a normal person's reaction would include tears, an "oh, just look at that, how wonderful", etc.

Then we get to the doctor's office. I ask her my laundry list of random questions, and then basically ask her what questions we need to be asking that we aren't asking - because we are "pregnancy retarded". Yep, I told the doctor that my husband and I are "pregnancy retard". I think she knows I'm a little cuckoo to begin with, but she looked taken aback for a moment, then just started laughing at us. I seriously wonder if she thinks I'm going to be totally psycho during labor. Um, yes, I can guarantee that much. Then just today at work I was in an elevator with a director and three other employees...I managed to say that I don't always enjoy babysitting all that much. Way to go, mom to be. What a great thing for a pregnant woman to say in front of other people.

Soooo, labor. How come no one ever told me about this vacuum thing? I don't know what it is or what it looks like and I'm pretty sure I need to keep it that way. And what's all this about afterbirth? And um, hello, why doesn't ANYONE tell you how difficult breastfeeding apparently is. As in hurts, is frustrating, and sounds downright impossible. I always just thought you put your boob in their mouth and away they go. Nope, apparently not. It just makes me wonder what else I don't know about. I know about the poo on the table and the swelling, but that's about it. I'm terrified to go to a birthing class. Is it totally uncalled for if I start crying during the video?

All you mommies out there, lay it on me. Tell me what I really need to know.

Satan's Tooth

2009-09-10T19:00:00.000-07:00

I am OCD about a lot of things. Second only to checking that I've turned off the oven is - flossing my teeth. I floss my teeth every day at least once a day. Maybe it's because I grew up with an orthodontist uncle or maybe I just like clean teeth. Either way, I am completely crazy when it comes to brushing and flossing. How bad you ask? Every year I ask my mom to get me the Costco size Glide dental floss for Christmas...you know, the one that's a 6 pack or something...it's THAT exciting for me to get new floss.

I went to the dentist this year and was surprised to see him show me a crack developing in one of my teeth. Hello, I'm 29, not a 65 year old from Podunk with 3 teeth missing already. So he said I needed a crown. Fine. Got fitted for the crown then my tooth started to hurt so he sent me to get a root canal done. Fine. Despite what you've heard, root canals are a walk in the park, btw. I would much rather have a root canal than a cavity. Drilling during a cavity filling makes me want to have a heart attack.

So after the root canal is done, my tooth still hurts. They give me antibiotics in case I have an infection. Doesn't fix the problem. I get one more week of antibiotics. Doesn't fix the problem. I get the root canal opened up and done a second time. Yes, it was a pain in the ass but it didn't hurt (again, vote for the root canal and not the cavity). One week of antibiotics later and guess what? It still feels like this.

Last Friday I got to go to an oral surgeon to see if he could do an apicoectomy (deep root canal that involves cutting the gum and going way up in the tooth canal). I'm talking surgery with an IV and stitches and pain killers. Oh, and the root canal goes so far up toward the sinuses that I'm not allowed to blow my nose for two weeks since I guess I could blow a hole from my nose to my tooth. Oh, and if I sneeze, I must do so with my mouth open (this happened twice yesterday and I thought I was going to crap my pants I was so nervous that I might blow a hole through my nose).

It's been a week now and guess what, my tooth still hurts. The doc said my stitches haven't dissolved yet so hopefully that's the only reason for the pain - and to come back in two weeks. But seriously, I'm going nuts. I'm pretty sure I've turned into robo-bitch because I'm in constant pain. It hurts to talk on the phone and it isn't fun to talk at work or even smile (because smiling tugs on the stitches, hurray!). I actually have to take Sensodyne to work and brush my teeth every hour just to get 15 minutes of freedom. The other day it got so bad that I just shoved some up by my gums and left it there...no rinsing out. How gross is that? I'm desperate.

I'm pretty sure I might go all Carrie on some body's ass if they so much as look at me the wrong way. I mean, I'm pretty sure I have horns sprouting out of my forehead and claws growing, just ready to rip some one's eyes out. So if you see me around, don't expect me to talk to you or even smile at you for that matter.

Childhood Movies

2009-09-10T17:51:00.000-07:00

Last night Greg and I were watching Glee...if you haven't seen it, watch it online. It's awesome. We ended up talking about how that show must seem really cool for little kids because it's like a tv series of High School Musical. But then did anyone catch the line between Emma, the guidance counselor, and Rachel, the girl trying to be bulimic???...Rachel: "I guess I just don't have a gag reflex." Emma, the counselor: "One day, when you're older, that'll turn out to be a gift."

Um, hello. It was almost like watching Shrek 3, where there's all sorts of crazy adult innuendos in there, but it totally goes over kids' heads. So we started reminiscing about movies from our childhood. Since we were born only two months apart, we pretty much grew up on the same movies, tv shows, and music.

I specifically remember being absolutely terrified watching the movie Lady in White. And I remember loving the Halloween movie The Canterville Ghost. So we rented The Canterville Ghost from Netflix, and let me tell you, it was the worst movie ever...it made me question my brain as a child. The Lady in White came on tv over the summer, that movie is still scary as shit. Then I remember watching Grease 2 with my sister. Robyn was seriously obsessed with this movie, no joke. Robyn wrote a letter to Michelle Pfeiffer whenever the movie came out and she actually got a letter back with a signed photo.

Now that's a movie I totally don't understand why my mom let us watch it. They sing a song about reproduction and the whole movie is about getting lucky. Really, we were like 6 and 9 years old when we watched that. Didn't we run around singing "where does the pollen go"??

There is one childhood movie that is just as good now as we remembered it: Monster Squad.

The movie was just as funny and the monsters were pretty entertaining. I mean, who doesn't like a character named Fat Kid and who wouldn't love seeing a little 5 year old girl tell her older brother that he's a chicken shit?

Blair Witch Auction

2009-08-30T18:13:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, Greg and I went to a real estate auction for the first time. Before the auction started, we both took bets on how much it would sell for. Greg was surprisingly accurate. But we knew when the auctioneer tried to start the bids at twice what we would pay that there was no chance in hell we'd even bid.
This Saturday we went to another auction in town. The house was in a great location and had great square footage but from the outside picture, it looked old and outdated. We thought maybe we could get a great deal on it though and just fix it up.

We arrived about 30 minutes before auction time and were a little confused because there was no one else there. At the first auction, we were 25 minutes early and there were already 50 or so people there. So we strolled on down to the house to check it out. The brown rusty pipes in the garage were the first sign of an old gross house. As soon as we walked in the main level, my allergies went crazy. The place looked clean, just outdated...as in blue carpets in the bedrooms. We walked down to the basement and were forever traumatized. This house totally had a killing room. I mean, 5x5 ft room with a single bare light bulb and a door. This was not a storage closet. It was totally a Blair Witch room where they make you stand in the corner before they whack you over the head and kill you. No joke. I made Greg go stand in the corner so I could take this picture. Although it was funny and we giggled like little school girls, we were both terrified that someone was going to show up behind us, shove us in the room, and chop us into little pieces.

So instead of taking bets on how much this place would sell for, we took a bet on how many people have been killed in this house. Too bad we'll never know. And we weren't dumb enough to stick around for the auction - we were outta there faster than fat kids in dodge ball.

Steak Bone-r Anniversary

2009-08-28T21:09:00.000-07:00

My husband and I just celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary by going to my favorite restaurant in downtown Franklin, TN. It's a cool place with fun eats like beef tenderloins with blue cheese risotto and asparagus. Yum! We sat on the upstairs patio and got a really awesome waiter, so we were totally excited about this anniversary dinner.

I ordered the usual and Greg ordered what I can only describe to be the Old 96er. Only this seemed to be a very horny 96er because it totally had a boner. I couldn't help behaving like a 12 year old with a giggle fit when our waiter slapped that down on the table. Although, to my defense I had just had a very potent martini. I mean, just look at this thing.

Really, couldn't they have cut that off before they cooked it? One order of circumcised steak please! I was immature enough to pull out the iPhone and take a picture - in front of people. And that wasn't enough, I had to actually get a close up shot. And then, I had to do a Perez Hilton and draw on it. Apparently I have no manners. Sorry mom.

Buddy the Squirrel

2008-07-03T10:15:00.000-07:00

Growing up, my house always had some kind of recovering injured animal in it. I think my mom is some cross-version of a horse whisperer / animal loving Snow White. You know that scene in Shrek the Third where Snow White sings Led Zeppelin's The Immigrant Song? I immediately though of my mom and her army of wild animals - birds, turtles, hermit crabs, etc. We always had baby birds living on our porch because they'd fallen out of neighborhood trees. My mom would use a syringe to feed them baby bird food and we'd take turns playing with random recovering birds on our porch.

One time I even caught a chipmunk, but let me tell you, those are not fun pets. I think I had it in a gerbil cage for all of one hour before I let it go - I thought it would have a heart attack trying to run out of the clear plastic cage. But the craziest pet we ever had was a pet squirrel named Buddy.

When I was away in college, one of my best high school friends found an abandoned baby squirrel. And what did she do - she called my mom. Next thing you know, my mom is taking care of a squirrel - after calling animal control to see if they carried rabies, of course. She named it Buddy and it lived in a dog carrier on our porch. Seriously. He'd even crawl under the towels we'd given him and circle the cage like a dog deciding where to plop down to sleep. I first met Buddy when my parents came to visit me freshman year. My mom carried him in some straw-like purse thing and he'd poke his head out from under a towel every few minutes. I'm just happy the dorm staff didn't realize my mom was smuggling a wild animal into their facilities.

I came home for the holidays to find that Buddy would crawl up my mom like a tree and then run, jumping off her outstretched arm, onto my 6'3 father. When I arrived, Buddy was thrilled to see that a third human tree had sprouted for him to scamper up and jump off of. It was just short of freaking crazy to have a squirrel run up your back and soar off of an outstretched limb. But he was a chill little guy and this was life at my house.

After a while, Buddy grew up and it was time to set him free into the wild again. It took him a few days to stop coming back to the porch each night to crawl into "his" dog carrier. He'd still hang around our backyard and even come running if my mom ever called out his name. He'd been gone for several weeks before I came home for summer break from college. I was dressed and on my way to work one morning when I felt I was being watched going to my car. I looked over and saw a squirrel staring at me on the sidewalk. "Buddy?", I said.

I was immediately transformed into the human tree, with a squealing squirrel running up my side, through my hair, and around my neck. OH MY GOD. This was de-house-broken, I know how to hunt my own food, going to cut you with my claws, Buddy. I flipped out because he wouldn't get off me, he'd peed on my shoulder, and seemed to be ready to claw my eyes out. I managed to grab his body, fling him several feet away from me, and run inside the house just as he was about to get in behind me. I'll never forget the shrieking sound he made when I had to tosh him like a bean bag into the yard.

So needless to say, I am TERRIFIED of squirrels now. No joke. If I see a squirrel in a park, or on a campus, or even near my car, I freeze, trying to figure out the quickest way to get inside a building or a car. Even if a squirrel is just running around a tree or picking up an acorn, if it so much as looks at me, I grab the nearest person (usually my husband) and hide behind them. So if you're ever walking with me and I have a panic attack, just look around and see if there are any Buddy's walking around.

I See Spiders

2008-07-03T09:19:00.000-07:00

Most people don't know this about me, but I see spiders. ALL THE TIME. There have been many times when my husband and I will be watching tv and I'll randomly jerk my head in one direction for no apparent reason. Why? Because I swear I see a spider out of the corner of my eye. I mean seriously, this happens at least twice a week, probably more. Most of the time there's nothing there and I know I must be losing my mind - or have some form of visual turrets.

But I do ACTUALLY see a spider about 40% of the time. Case in point: I'm doing a little house-sitting (house invading is more like it) this week. I'd like to preempt this with a very large "I'm sorry" to the couple who will probably rather not know the story I'm about to tell. The first night in the house was totally fine, I didn't have any head twitches of the spider persuasion. However, the second night, yikes. I really don't like spiders, really really. This may stem from seeing Arachnophobia way too many times as a youngster. Anyway, I have a box of stuff (ok, boxes, plural) in this house, sitting on the floor in the hall. I casually walk past it and immediately do the head spasm thing. OH my LORD. I'm pretty sure that thing could eat my face off.

On the very bottom edge of the box is the largest spider I have ever encountered. It's huge and brown and has scary legs and I'm convinced it's a brown recluse. I'm gonna die - because they bite you and then your skin starts to eat itself - I know for a fact because a guy in my business class got bitten by one and you should have seen this poor guy's hand eat itself away. Nasty. I freak out. I'm barefoot and the only item nearby to beat the living shit out of this thing is my brush. No way, then it truly will eat my face. I do a quick look around, half expecting to be Alice in Wonderland and a magical bottle of spider repellent appear saying "Use Me". No luck. What do I find? The best new bug repellent I've ever met: Shout! As in - gets stains out of your laundry "Shout!". I sprayed the spider once and it immediately balled up, fell off the box, and died. Shout is my new best friend. Me -1, Spiders -0.

Ah, but round 2 was only one day away. I get home from work to find the largest house centipede I've ever seen on the wall in the kitchen.

Right now my spider seeing accuracy is at about 110% and I need it to be -500%. The only thing I hate more than house centipedes are silverfish and those scary brown camel crickets...

Animals like this just shouldn't be allowed inside a human dwelling place. I didn't have the courage (or height) to kill this one so I just ignored it. And now I live in fear because the million legged creature disappeared from site an hour later. I'm hoping the mercy I showed the centipede will make its way through the spider nation so I don't get ganged up on for killing mister brown recluse. I'd love to keep my face covered with skin.

This is Just an Appetizer

2008-05-08T12:32:00.000-07:00

I know, I know. I've been totally MIA. But it's actually been on purpose. I'm truly about to explode from all the little random things I want to publish on this blog...think Gretchen Wieners from Mean Girls...hair so big because it's full of secrets. I don't think it's safe to write about them all until after I leave this contract gig, but I will give you a taste of the stories to come:

It's 6:55am on Good Friday, I'm the only one at work yet from my department, and things are super quiet. I see a man from another department walk past my office and think nothing of it. Until he back tracks and walks into my office. (Back story: this guy is much older, really shy, and keeps to himself. He's just a guy I pass in the hallways and say hi to - as any polite southerner would do).

I say hi and he immediately hands over something and says "this is just an appetizer". My brain screams "say WHAT? what? what does that mean?". My eyes look down and see two pieces of individually wrapped chocolate in a zip lock bag laying in my palm. Ok, this is weird. Not that I have a totally dirty mind or anything, but seriously, doesn't that sound SO sexual? Hours later I will obsess over this phrase "this is just an appetizer" and try to convince myself he only means it's an appetizer for all the chocolate Easter candy I'm about to get. And really, wrapped chocolate in a zip lock bag? What's up with that? I'm so shocked at this point I don't know what to do - I am definitely a deer caught in headlights.

Then here comes the best example of why I'm the biggest dumb ass in the world. He follows up that one liner with, "I'm not very good at this, but would you like to have lunch with me this week?". Now, I know what a normal married person would say - Hells No. But I immediately recall a time when a girlfriend of mine told me that not all guys are interested in me and that I shouldn't be so full of myself. Thanks friend. Because my reaction was "Suuuure???". I mean come on, this guy is shy and totally not social, and I felt like he was asking because he was trying to make a friend. I was trying to not be full of myself and consider this a lunch date. And to my own defense, I practically shoved my wedding ring in this guy's face to make it clear I was married. And of course, as soon as the "Suuure?" response vomits out of my mouth, I immediately follow up with the excuse that I'm really busy at work right now and I don't know if I'll be able to get away for lunch, etc. He offers up another great one liner: "Well, you know where I am". Um, yeah, I do, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to stay as far away from that office as I can.

As soon as that's all over I call my husband and he agrees that we should give the guy the benefit of the doubt because he's probably just trying to make a friend (I know, how retarded ARE we!?!). I tell one of my coworkers because now I'm scared this guy is a crazy serial killer and he's going to hack me up in little pieces and make me eat my own fingernails or something. She totally thinks it's a date invitation. I literally hide from this guy for 2 weeks. Isn't that sad?

After two weeks, I'm certain he's gotten the picture that No, I don't want to go out to lunch. Yeah. Right. Monday morning arrives and again I'm at work really early all by myself. I've gotten in the habit of keeping my office door almost completely shut until some other people start arriving at the building. I hear footsteps in the hallway. I hear a tiny knock at my door. Panic rushes through me and my heart is practically outside my body. I look at that tiny little sliver in my door and see flowers. Beautiful flowers. How did my husband get in a secured building??

And then I see a head poke in the door and it's crazy serial killer man. NO! As soon as he walks in and tells me he's brought me flowers, I make a stop motion with my hand and tell him this is very inappropriate because I'm married. Yikes, that was fun. I can tell he's mortified as he stumbles through saying that he grows flowers at home and that he brings them in for coworkers sometimes and that he should have asked me first if I was married. Way to avoid the sexual harassment claim buddy. I'm mortified, call my husband and he offers to do some ass kicking. My coworker walks down the hallway to see that no coworkers in his department have flowers. Talk about awkward. So now I cringe every time he walks by my office (which has significantly increased since the flower day) because I'm pretty sure I have my very own stalker.

So moral of the story - be as full of yourself as you want to be - because he totally means it sexual when he says he's got an appetizer for you. Oh, and make sure you throw that chocolate away immediately. You don't want to get all roofied.

Old Red

2008-03-26T12:18:00.000-07:00

Every now and again I check out the free stuff listed on Craigslist. I've actually gotten some pretty sweet stuff doing this and if nothing else, it helps the day pass by. I find it really interesting to see what crazy stuff people will try to give away and what words they use to describe. Like "funky couch" means "heinous, dirty, and probably has bodily fluids on it". Or "vintage", which means "old piece of crap that I doubt anyone even wants for free".

Today's Craigslist experience has been my favorite of all time. About a week ago I was browsing the free stuff in Nashville and found someone giving away a real, live horse for free. For reals. Today I was looking at the stuff in DC and came across a listing for a free horse. In DC? Where the heck is there any land to have a horse here??? And that's when I came across my favorite posting yet:

"Old red needs a new pasture. Eats nothing, real quiet, gets along well, does rear most of the time. Has had a few injuries but healed well. Comes with one can of touch up paint."

I might be the only person who finds this funny, but you're also talking to a gal that had a life-size cardboard cutout of Goldberg (as in Bill, the wrestler) in her college apartment. I really think that Old Red would be a great conversation starter at parties. And I could totally decorate him for each holiday. For Halloween he could be a witch and for Christmas I could just toss on a Santa hat and wrap him in lights. I have a fondness for Old Red and am actually sad I can't have him. He'll probably end up in the hands of some unappreciative frat that'll break his legs off. Can't you just imagine having Old Red in your house and sending your kids to him for time-out while saying "quit horsing around". Har har har.

Satan’s Floor

2008-03-24T07:25:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I was able to experience the true *delights* of contractors installing hardwood floors. The contract was signed two weeks ago, with demolition to begin two Thursdays ago. Thursday arrived and so did the first bit of drama. Our floor had jip creek under it which crumbles to pieces when you pull up plywood. Sign number 1 that this was going to be the floor from hell. Next they get to the stairs and, oh!, surprise!, they’re not made out of concrete, but wood. Sign number 2 that this was Satan’s floor. So by the end of Thursday we find out that we can’t install the engineered wood we were sold because it won’t adhere to the stairs. We’re super excited to have to drive all the way back to the flooring store in rush-hour traffic.

The new plan is to install real hardwood flooring. Brazilian Cherry – which costs a heck of a lot more than the stuff we bought. But since the retard who drew up the contract failed to realize you shouldn’t ever install engineered wood on jip creek, we get the new stuff at cost. Thank you, God. The plan is to have the new wood delivered at the crack of dawn on Friday so they can install it on Sunday morning (48 hour acclimation period). Well, that part goes super well because the wood gets delivered at 3pm on Friday. Sign number 3. We literally have to wait a full 7 days for work to be done again on the floor.

My Good Friday was spent watching contractors install the new floor – not very exciting (but I am leaving out SO many awful details). On Saturday everything is going pretty well and I guesstimate that they’ll be done around 6pm. But 6pm arrives and they’re not done. At 7pm a neighbor comes up to complain about the noise and how he has friends coming over soon. The contractors promise to be done in 30 minutes. Ok, that’s cool. Well, 8pm rolls around. Seriously guys, I’m ready to eat dinner. At 9pm I walk over to check things out since it’s getting kinda late. They decided to have a brain fart and cut out a hole in the baseboard and pull a telephone line through it. I mean, I’m all for having random wires hanging out in my hallway but seriously, are they on crack? I call my husband (who’s out of town all week) to see if this is what he told the contractors to do. Um, no. So guess what time they finished on Saturday? 10pm. For reals.

Not exactly how I expected to celebrate Easter weekend. My advice…expect contractors to screw you over and for the entire experience to make you want to claw your own eyes out. Happy Easter!

Sometimes it's Better to Be Wrong

2008-02-25T11:43:00.000-08:00

I'll be the first to admit that I'm a hypochondriac/paranoid person. But I'd like to point out that I'm also correct more than half the time. For example, when I was in college, I was a rower, and one November I noticed that my back was hurting really bad. It hurt for weeks, to the point where everyone was sick of hearing me complain, my coaches wouldn't let me row during that time, and finally they sent me to have it checked out. Oh yeah, it was fractured. So thanks everyone for telling me I was just being paranoid. You can really just kiss my butt.

You need another example? How about the time when my foot started hurting really bad for no reason? Again, I complained and no one believed me. Yeah, it was fractured. Need a non-medical example? How about at my wedding when I was getting ready to run out to the car with my new hubby. Without reason, I asked him if he had his wallet for the honeymoon. Random, I know, since he's never forgotten it before in his life. Yeah, he'd left it at the hotel where his parents were staying.

So, to bring a point to all this rambling, in my previous blog posting, I speculated that there was a convict near my house and that's why a helicopter was circling my neighborhood. I was totally joking but then decided to check some news websites. Thanks Fox news....

ALEXANDRIA, Va. -- Police are investigating after three attempted assaults on women in Alexandria over the weekend.
The first attack happened just after midnight Saturday. Police said a woman was walking in the area of Beauregard and King Street when a man grabbed her. The victim screamed and fought her attacker and the man fled the scene, police said.
The second attack happened just after 1 p.m. Saturday at a McDonalds at the intersection of Glebe Road and Mount Vernon Avenue.

Police said a man tried to push his way into a bathroom that a woman was using inside the McDonalds. He is described as a white Hispanic man. He was wearing a black jacket and black pants.
The third attack happened at about 6:30 p.m. Sunday near Armistead Boothe Park and the 500 block of Cameron Station Boulevard in Alexandria.
Police said a woman was attacked by a man who attempted to sexually assault her. The victim told police she managed to fight her attacker off.
Police are still investigating all three incidents. Authorities said they do not believe that any of the incidents are related.

Um, YEAH. I live a hop-skip-and-a-jump from Cameron Station. I'm going to go buy some mace.

Convict

2008-02-24T16:43:00.000-08:00

I'm still in quarantine tonight, currently watching the movie Annie on TV. Nothing is on and I don't want to watch Ryan Seacrest being an idiot at the Oscars. Plus, Oscar speeches make me feel uncomfortable. I don't like people who get kicked off stage because they're talking for too long, it makes me embarrassed for them.

So I'm watching the part in Annie when Punjab saves her from dangling off that bridge...you know, he ties his turban to the helicopter and saves her. Well, I'm sitting here thinking, wow, this tiny 17 inch TV has some mad surround sound. That is, until I see a helicopter spotlight through my window. No big deal, I keep watching the boob tube. Except I keep hearing this helicopter A LOT and see the search light again. After 5 minutes I start counting the times it's circling over head. In the past 15 minutes it has come around 19 times. Uh, is there a convict in my neighborhood? I mean, this is DC. It's times like this when I realize it would be great to have mace and a taser gun. Have you ever wondered just how bad it would hurt to get tasered? I do. We watched an episode of Mythbusters where the red head chick tased one of the guys. It was awesome.

Well, they must have lost the convict because they're getting farther away, but have circled 12 times since my last count. Oh, and there goes Ryan Seacrest being a retard... He just asked Jessica Alba if she's going to breastfeed. Get a grip dude. I'll check the news tomorrow to see what nut job just escaped from a mental hospital (we've had two of those already this year).

I'm Firing My Doctor

2008-02-22T19:02:00.000-08:00

It's Friday night and I'm laying in the guest bedroom, quarantined from my husband. Let me tell you, there is nothing on TV on Friday nights and with a temperamental laptop that only recognizes the wireless network about 60% of the time, I'm going pretty crazy. Lucky me, I have the flu. I felt a sinus infection starting on Wednesday afternoon so I peaced out from work early. Thursday I stayed in bed all day and prayed that the "winter weather storm of 08" would have work cancelled on Friday. Um yeah, I'm pretty sure the weather forecasters in DC have their thumbs up their butts 99% of the time. (I'm all about percentages tonight...must be the meds).

So this morning I debated going to the doctor. Usually I wait until I feel like I'm dying before I go to the doctor. Why? Let me break it down. 2006 - I get a sinus infection that leads to a build up in my chest. Lovely. I go to the doctor and complain, telling him I also have a fever. His response? Take some Tylenol Arthritis and don't shower. SERIOUSLY. I kid you not. 2007 - same exact symptoms but I really can't breathe. His response? Take Tylenol Arthritis and don't shower. At this point I'm pretty pissed because I'm sure I'm going to get bronchitis. I don't but I totally load up on Afrin and cough drops to the point that I'm pretty sure I have a coke nose and kidney failure (not really). My husband gets sick a few months later with similar symptoms and guess what the doctor says to do? Take Tylenol Arthritis and don't shower. I mean really, dude, did you even go to med school?

And so we arrive at 2008 - I really debated going to the doctor today because I knew what he was going to tell me. Luckily, I was scheduled with a different doctor at the same practice. Wonderful, I'm thinking, a new doctor who will give me some real medicine and I'll feel better by the end of the weekend. I see the new doctor and tell him my symptoms: sinus headache, sore throat, ear ache, night sweats, fever, and a sore neck and upper back. He checks my throat and then says "you have the flu". Um ok, what about trying that really annoying flu test? You know the one...where they jam that mile long q-tip all the way up your nose. Talk about gag reflex. As a child I once slapped a doctor for q-tipping my throat when testing for strep throat. It was awesome. So apparently I have the flu without being tested for it and again I'm OD'ing on Afrin and Sudafed. I'm convinced this medical practice just cranks out the appointments to get their money as fast as they can. Well you know what I have to say about that? You can shove that Tylenol Arthritis up your butt because I'm going to go take a shower.

Why haven't my husband and I found a new doctor? Well for one, there are usually waiting lists to see doctors in our area and I'm pretty sure that my illness will have cleared up in the four weeks it takes to get an appointment. And two, we're both hoping to move within the next few months and I'm pretty sure they have good doctors at Vanderbilt. So just in case anyone out there ever gets sick, no matter what you have, all you need to do is take some Tylenol Arthritis and don't shower. Good luck feeling better with that advice!

The Assignments

2008-02-07T19:23:00.000-08:00

I know you're dying to know the song/band assignments stored up in my little brain. Here's the quick list of who you are and who you're assigned to. If you don't like it, you'll have to do something crazy while playing a song in the background so it'll stick in my memory (which is very full of cobwebs these days). Good luck.

Mom - As Good as it Gets and You've Got Mail soundtracks
Dad - The Platters
Marc - Johnny Cash
Jill - Dixie Chicks
Robyn - Dancing Queen
Greg - This I'll keep secret. But a close second? There was a very rare moment involving someone dancing to Sex Bomb at Sigma Nu and somebody peeling his shirt off.
Carol - Sweet Caroline
Jenny - Christmas music in general (since that's the only music you'll listen to)
Adam - Paint it Black (guitar hero anyone??)
Ridgely and David - The South Park song you love to sing to me...Shut your * face uncle *
Kristin - One More Time. Ah, the fishbowl margarita glass.
Laura - DMB Spoon. Not sure why, we played name that tune so much I can't really identify just one.
Angela - Fionna Apple
Hank and Evan - Caribbean Queen and Electric Avenue
Kelsey - Barbie Girl (you are the only person who liked this song) :)
The Scotland gang - I made you a cd, you should know the answer...except the accidental Samantha Mumba song. Don't know where that came from. Maybe from the Seven Sisters under that guy's wig or fake Derek Jeter and his orange juice.
My unborn children - Talk Talk - This is the Day
Me - there are too many to name. Songs? Tonight I'm feeling like Frou Frou - Let Go, Jem - Just a Ride, Fleetwood Mac - Landslide. Bands? Always David Bowie, Billy Idol, U2, and about a thousand others.

I'm always interested in new bands and songs so hit me up with your suggestions. I totally hate country but if you can give me an awesome country song, I'm willing to change "hate" to "tolerate".

Crazy Retarded

2008-02-06T17:20:00.000-08:00

So I thought anyone reading this might want to know some of my quirks. Some people may think I’m crazy or retarded but I’m pretty certain I’m both:

I hate the feel of white Styrofoam. More than that, I hate hate hate the sound of something rubbing Styrofoam. (This of course makes for awesome birthdays and Christmas).
I also hate the sound of straws rubbing against the plastic lid of a Starbucks frozen beverage…that terrible squeal noise sets me off!
I am a self diagnosed OCD patient. I do things in 3’s. I check for a locked door 3 times a night, I check to make sure the stove isn’t on at least 3 times a day, I say things three times in a row (for emphasis), and I often clap 3 times in a row when I’m excited about something.
I love music. I seriously think I could win Name That Tune. I have favorite “parts” to almost every tune and I assign songs or bands to almost everyone I know.
I chew about 10 pieces of gum a day. Some people smoke a pack a day; I chew a pack a day.
I have several specifically dedicated “dances”. There’s the kitchen dance (clap your hands and stomp your feet like you’re flatfooted) and the Nashville dance (twirl in a circle while you stomp your feet and pump your arms – kinda like milking a cow) - just to name two.
I hop into bed every night. I don’t sit or lay down or anything, I literally hop.
I can cross my toes in both directions. Well, not my right foot anymore since I broke my toes, but still the left one.
I word vomit - A lot. I’ve been told I have a sharp tongue, which I didn’t understand until someone explained to me that I say what’s on my mind and don’t think about how I’m saying it.
Now that I’ve painted such a pretty picture, I’ll put up a literal picture for you to remember me by…

Newb

2008-02-06T11:17:00.000-08:00

Hi blog world. This is the first time I’ve ever written a blog and it seems kinda weird. All through law school my husband and his friends used to talk about their blogs and about something called postings (?). To me, it always sounded like a guy’s version of something I like to call a “diary”. I couldn’t grasp why these guys wanted to read each other’s diaries and so I politely ignored my husband’s dork factor. Now that it’s 3 years later I feel like I’m the 50 year old CEO who doesn’t know how to use Excel (you should all be ashamed!!). Where did this huge blog-world explosion come from and how have I been in denial for so long? MySpace…Facebook…I only wised up to them in the past few months. Where have I been? Now that I feel sufficiently technologically-retarded, I’ve decided school myself and try this whole blog thing. It’s one step closer to being in the loop, but don’t get me started on Leetspeak and the fact that it takes me 5 minutes to decode text messages. Hopefully six months from now this newb won’t be a n00b.