Friday, June 15, 2007
Paris is still in jail.
And... Zoobilation is still scheduled to take place despite the torrential downpours we are experiencing here in our blessed state. I kid you not. I looked out my back door this morning and we had raging rapids. Not puddles of water... but raging rapids that had potential to sweep you off into the neighbors yard if you were to go out and stand in them. We've gotten 4+ inches overnight (or in the past 24 hours or so). It's crazy!
There was a 6 car accident on the Raceway that I take to work each morning. It was pretty much cleaned up by the time I got to the location, but on the radio they announced another accident had just happened on the same highway, but about 1/2 mile behind me. I made it without incident. Thank God. Seriously. I think he knows he needs to keep his little hand on Kerry because she'd probably choke the crap outta someone if they were to bang into her! I don't want to go through all that again. It's forecast to rain for another week...
This weekend is Father's Day and it's jammed packed for us. The Electrician is coming to do a few things at our house, we are having dinner (actually its a surprise for one of our friends) with a big group of our friends from my home town, and we get to spend part of the time with my dad! I'm excited to get to see everyone!!!
At lunch i'm going to go buy us a new boat and instead of driving to the northern part of the state.... we'll just boat there. It will probably save on gas and we can take turns skiing!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Here's the deal: Each player starts with 7 random facts / habits about themselves. People who are tagged need to write their own blog with their 7 things as well as these rules. You need to tag 7 others and list their names on your blog. Remember to leave a comment for them letting them know they have been tagged and to read your blog. So without further ado, here goes:
- Men suck. Yes, that’s an unfair blanket assessment of the opposite sex but lately males (yeah, plural) have taken vicarious pleasure in letting me down. I know the reason I’m feeling this way is because of the little phone tête-à-tête exchanged between TBC and I yesterday afternoon. I was engrossed in finding a street address for a new school we added to our ITV roster and I needed to process a FedEx shipment before the courier arrived. Time was of the essence. Out of the blue TBC calls my cell to question whether I had faxed an important document the day before. Mind you, I have to scurry out of my office and race down the hall toward the lounge to participate in this two-way conversation as cell reception is abysmal. My mind went completely blank and I blurted out I must have forgotten to fax it and was unsure where the document was which prompted an unappreciated, venom-filled tirade. Apparently when I fail to do his bidding, its fine and dandy to chew my ass out though I never berate his shortcomings in the brain freeze department. Taken aback and not wishing to engage in a nasty, mud-slinging shoutfest, I offered to call him back when I had further clarification. It was on the trek back to my office that it hit me I had indeed faxed it first thing yesterday morning as requested. Now I’m furious. I returned his call from the office phone and hissed that I had carried out this order and speaking to me in this harsh manner was NOT acceptable. He informed me he darn well could and would and I once again strongly disagreed. I was then informed he “wasn’t putting up with my shit” and I hung up on him. I fumed for awhile longer, concocting schemes of sweet, sweet revenge before sanity prevailed. We attempted to discuss our respective points of view upon my return home but once again he became extremely agitated and I walked away. Yeah, I love being married to an asshole.
- Kerbear and I are coming up on our two year (July 6) Blogaversary. Last year’s celebration didn’t turn out quite the way we expected as on that very day, our preshus (and easy) domain name was snatched out from under us thanks to some convoluted and murky dealings. Understandably, our happiness and joy were considerably subdued but this year we anticipate a true no-holds-barred, celebratory blowout. Alrighty then!
- This past weekend, “K” once again showed me her hilarious depiction of my ass-over-teakettle spill during last years memorable Oktoberfest when my tractionless flipflops sent me comically hurtling to the ground as simultaneously my newly-purchased, sugary funnel cake shot skyward before ignominiously joining me in kissing terra firma. Much like the first viewing, I laughed so hard I cried. I must have been a sight to behold but I still cringe in remembered mortification every time I replay it in my head as it is my No. 1 most embarrassing moment in recent history. Though months away, I’m already planning to hide behind a drab, non-descript outfit, wraparound ebony shades, and possibly a wig disguise before attending this years event.
- I’m ready for my three-day weekend to start.
- I miss Kerry and all the times I could just pop into her office to laugh, chat, and gossip. We did it every day and though I like our current ragtag little troop, it’s nowhere close to the sparkle and pop that came with having her as a captivating coworker.
- I part my hair on the left side.
- I’m left-handed and proud of it. :)
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
I don’t know how many of you read "Dear Prudence" or "Ask Miss Manners" but the problems are usually darn entertaining and it's fun to hear how these experts present their solutions. One I recently read was so hilarious that I felt the need to share it:
I am one of five women at my office. Roughly three out of five mornings, the one man we work with spends the first 10 to 15 minutes of the day in the (single, shared) bathroom. We work in a small office where we need to be available to any current or potential clients who call or drop in, so it does affect the rest of us if someone disappears mysteriously since, obviously, he doesn't announce that he's heading off to the can. I feel that if something is happening on such a regular basis, he should be able to take care of it at home before he comes to work. (He has only a half-hour commute.) My two-part question for you is: Is it worth saying something to him about it? And, presumably this would be a job for our manager, but what would be the best way of going about this? She usually hasn't arrived by that point in the morning, and so is not aware of this tendency.
Waiting for the Can
How would you approach this with your manager? "Sue, I believe Dick starts his day with a bowel movement at the office. Could you please tell him to coordinate his bodily functions better so we don't have to cover for him for the first 10 minutes of work?" Maybe you could talk to Dick and tell him that if he's going to be doing something beside No. 1, he should announce it so the rest of you can plan your morning accordingly. Or maybe Dick is in the bathroom checking his insulin, maybe he has irritable bowel syndrome, or maybe it's hard to imagine that there is anything more inappropriate for you to say anything to anyone about.
The latest in Kerry Dreamland….
Let me start off by saying I have great teeth.
I dreamed that I had a bad tooth which the dentist could not save and his course of action to save my great smile was to pull the tooth – with a few others – and give me a partial denture. I lay in the chair while he does the work, and it just so happens that he has my partial laying right there, fitted and ready for me.
He popped that sucker in my mouth and it filled the gaps where no one would have ever known they weren’t my real teeth except for the fact that they looked like white chiclet gum and were about 3X thicker than real teeth which pushed my upper lip out and made me look like I had Bucky Beaver Teeth!
I screamed hysterically and begged him to file them down thinner. He said “they look fine and you will get used to them. The speech problem will go away when you get used to them”. There I sat looking at my Bucky Beaver. They changed the way I looked. They made my cheeks suck in because my lip was stretched so far trying to cover them. I looked like Rosanna Arquette. Worse.
I pulled them out to see if I could get away with not wearing the partial… but it was a no-go because then I had gaps and it was trailer trash looking. I had to wear the Bucky Beaver look.
The dream ended at 2:16am… and I’ve been up ever since
Sunday, June 10, 2007
It was a boy!
Not one little pain either.
If you dream that you are on your way to the hospital to have a baby, then it signifies your issues of dependency and your desire to be completely care for. Perhaps you are trying to get out of some responsibility. If you are pregnant, then a more direct interpretation may simply mean that you are experiencing some anxieties of making it to the hospital when the time comes.
To dream that you are laboring, suggests that you have goal that will take a lot of hard work to accomplish.
If you are really pregnant and having this dream, then it represents your anxieties about the pregnancy. Women in the first trimester of their pregnancy tend to dream of tiny creatures, fuzzy animals, flowers, fruit and water. In the second trimester, dreams will reflect your anxieties about being a good mother