And you thought YOU had a bad day…

or

What’s wrong with this picture?

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One of my coworkers was half asleep when she got dressed this morning. She didn’t realize her fashion faux pas until she arrived in the office.

Silly girl… she let me take a picture too!

I sent it out to the entire department in an email, saying, “One of our lovely coworkers is having a bad day. I’m not naming names, but her initials are Tanya.”

Oops! My bad.

It was worth it to hear the collective laugh as it arrived in everyone’s inboxes.

Into the weekend….

Do you ever wish you could just bottle up the way you feel sometimes? That’s how I feel today. I am energetic and optomistic! It’s FRIDAY! WOO-HOO!

I had some major and intense projects at work this week which are finished up and no longer hanging over my head.

We’re going to see 20 degrees today which will feel like a heat wave in comparison to the last few days.

Having a teenage daughter who’s growing has it’s perks. I’m wearing Kacey’s pinstripe dress pants today.  I bought them for her to wear for Christmas and she probably won’t wear them ever again. My wardrobe is expanding without the extra cost!

Tonight we have the choice of going to a birthday party at the home of some of our softball friends. It sounds like fun but could result in feeling like death on a cracker tomorrow. Our other option is to go to the varsity basketball game with two other couples, our best friends, then to the home of one of the couples for socializing. I think we’ll go for option two. I need to get my house in order this weekend and hangovers are not conducive to domestic productivity!

Saturday and Sunday are wide open and if we see warmer temps, I may just be able to get out with my camera, which would be a good cure for the cabin fever.

I need a vacation

Man, I have got some cabin fever going on in a big way. I know it is a lot colder in some other places than it is here, but that is not stopping me from being disgusted and fed up. I’m so tired of below zero temperatures. Last night I slept under the electric blanket, down comforter and a big fleece blanket. That combination is nice and toasty while sleeping but dragging myself out from under all that warmth in the morning sucks, big time.

I have been such a GIRL today emotionally. When I am like this, it’s best not to talk to me. I was doing some ironing this morning and Mark mentioned it was cold in the house. Eye rolling! Duh! He asked me if I was cold and I damn near started crying. CRYING! Because I’m so tired of being chilled to the bone. Not a good start to the day.

I’m tired of hearing the meteorologists reporting “warm-ups” to 18 degrees. Gee, thanks. 18 whole degrees? Gosh, at 18 degrees maybe I can manage to shed that third layer of clothing! I’m tired of the dirty, frozen landscape. I miss seeing the sun when I leave for work and come home again. I’ve had enough of shivering viciously when I get in the car after work. I did not appreciate Mark telling me that he just heard we’re in for a colder than normal spring. I’m bored with all conversation having to do with the winter weather and sick of hearing myself complain.

I want to soak up the sun and feel its heat on my skin. I want to wear shorts and tank tops and go barefoot again. Summer, PLEASE come back soon!

It's official. I am addicting and excellent.

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Robert is addicted to my blog! And who can blame him? Where else can you find all the riveting news on topics such as flatulence and subzero temperatures? Who else do you know that can find chocolate chip cookies inside a clean and folded t-shirt while putting the laundry away and not question it? (Ok, I didn’t actually write about that, but it’s true.) That’s right. You gotta come here for this kind of excitement!

I was really thrilled to hear that Robert is addicted to my blog because I am equally addicted to his. He writes the most amazing poems, describes wild and crazy adventures involving the thievery of his favorite snakeskin boots and is having the time of his life exploring all kinds of new interests and talents after hanging up his truck driving hat. I have to say, he also looks pretty dang good in a kilt!

In addition to Robert’s blog, there are a few blogs that I’ve recently discovered that I’m quickly becoming addicted to. These are written by some very talented, intelligent and funny women!

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And not only did I receive the honor of having my blog labeled as addicting, my buddy Rock Chef deemed my blog to be excellent! Rock Chef is really the one with the excellent blog. He has an eternally positive outlook and a fantastic sense of humor, as evidenced by his guide to Man-Speak. AND he endeared himself to all of his women readers when he took care of his wife after a surgery, took over her role in the household, and then wrote about the appreciation he gained for all she does for the family.

There are so many blogs that I classify as excellent. They are funny, optomistic, thought provoking and powerful. Just to name a few, here are some of the blogs that keep me coming back for more…

Ok then…..

I should wrap this up now….

Don’t you hate when you can’t figure out how to end these things?

I’ll just slip away quietly….. and go look for some more of those chocolate chip cookies in the laundry…..

Signs that you may have become a bit lax in your parenting

Sign #1: 

The kids were watching Dodgeball on t.v. There was a scene in which one of the characters, Kate was delivering drinks to all of her friends. As she passed out the drinks, she handed one to Justin, who is underage, saying, “Here’s your virgin daquiri.”

Jake looked at me and said, “He can’t DRINK! He’s too young!”

I had to explain that a virgin drink means that there’s no alcohol in the drink. I could almost see the gears turning in his brain.

“You mean I could order a virgin beer and they’d serve it to me?”

“Well, that’s called Near-Beer, like Sharps or O’Doul’s, but I’m still not sure they’d actually serve it to you,” I told him.

“What if I asked for a virgin Crown Royal on the rocks?”

I laughed and explained that Crown Royal IS the alcohol. The rocks are the ice. So…. No. That’s not going to happen.

He tried again, “Do they make a virgin Margarita?”

“Yep. That they can do,” I replied.

“OK! Next time I’m in a bar, I’m going to ask for a virgin margarita.”

“Ummm, honey? If you’ve been in a bar already, you’ve got bigger problems than what you plan to order next time.”

(He was joking. I know he was joking. He’s always here. He’s a homebody. Sometimes it’s tempting to tell him to go out and get in some trouble. Just a little trouble. Not big trouble.)

Sign #2:

I was heading down the stairs to the family room. He told me I might want to wait a minute or so… “because I just farted on my way up the stairs.”

He’s going to make some girl so happy one day. I just hope she’s got a thick skin and an abundance of tolerance.

Another successful day in suburbia in which no one gets arrested

Ha! I totally played hooky from work this afternoon (in a totally procedurally approved way, because I’m not nearly as badass as I sometimes pretend to be.) So I was able to be home in time to eat lunch with Brad and talk with him one-on-one for a while before his ride came to pick him up to return to school. You’ll all be proud of me too. I didn’t cry when he left this time. It does get easier. Also, he’ll be back in less than two weeks for his spring break so that helps immensely.

After Brad left for school, I finished up some chores that didn’t get done over the weekend while Mark sent Jake and Kacey out to shovel the driveway and front walk. (This was probably just a ploy to get them to take their bickering outside where he didn’t have to listen, I think.) When they finished shoveling, they pointed out the fact that there was a woman just sitting in a parked Jaguar right across the street. This was odd for a couple of reasons. No one who lives in this neighborhood owns a Jag. There’s one neighbor with a used Beemer, and a lot of higher end SUVs and trucks, but no Jags. This woman just sat in the car and watched as the kids shoveled. When they came in, I kept an eye on her as I continued my cleaning, wondering what she was doing there. Once in a while she’d lean the seat back and appeared as if she was napping. Then she’d raise the seat up again. She stayed for over an hour. And it’s like, five degrees outside.

Jake was really put off by the fact that she had the nerve to watch him shovel snow. I asked him why he didn’t go knock on the window and ask if he could help her. He told me, “No WAY! She’s like eighty years old and she might be a stalker. What if she had a gun?”

I told him if she was an eighty year old stalker interested in him, I’d give it serious consideration if she wanted to support him and his high dollar dreams and that way he wouldn’t have to worry about his grades. He didn’t find that funny. I guess I can find comfort in the fact that my kid’s got higher standards than just looking for a sugar-mama.

I tried to imagine what I might say if a call to the police was determined to be necessary. “Yes, officer. There’s a stranger sitting in a very nice, high quality vehicle parked in front of my house. Threatening? Yes, she’s somewhat threatening in a stalkerly, grandmotherly sort of way. But she’s parked in FRONT of my MAILBOX. The mailman won’t deliver if there are vehicles parked within twenty feet of my mailbox. Yes, I know it’s a federal holiday and there’s no mail delivery today. Suspicious behavior? Yes, I consider taking a nap in a vehicle when the outside temperatures are in the single digits to be suspicious. Don’t you? Ok, ok, maybe it is simply ODD behavior. Yes, I understand napping isn’t a criminal offense. Yes sir, I’ll go get a life now.”

In reality, I figured it might be a social worker keeping an eye on the goings-on at a neighbors’ house where the husband was recently asked by his wife to move out and visits with the kids are to be supervised. (This is not as ominous as it sounds. It’s a very sad situation, actually.) But on second thought, if social workers are making the kind of money that allows them to drive luxury vehicles, I’m in the wrong line of work.

My other thought was that she was a realtor, as the neighbor next door just put her house on the market this past weekend. But again, with the subprime mortgage crisis and stale housing market, it again seems unlikely that someone in that field is driving a Jag right now.

In the end, whoever she was, she was just waiting for someone who came out of another neighbor’s house. Now I just feel like Mrs. Kravitz, the nosy neighbor with nothing better to do. It’s just another peacefully uneventful day here in suburbia, except for the very un-peaceful bickering of two bored teenagers.

I guess no one’s getting arrested today so I think I’ll go catch up on what I missed in the blog world this weekend.