Some Days It's Really Clear Why I Am Single

Do I spend my weekends at the local meat markets or even in a place where I would have a chance to meet a man older than 3? Nope. I spent my Saturday night with Supermommy and Ponch, and the night ended with me getting my ears cleaned out (Ponch was my spotter holding the ear candle). I even took a picture of the wax that came out in the ear candle, but maybe somethings should be left off the blog.

It Was All I Expected and More

It began when the waiter dropped my glass of ice water on my friend (thankfully not the b-day girl who would have stabbed him). It was all down her back and on her pants so it looked like she peed herself. She also had a lemon on her shoulder. After a few minutes a new waiter came out and asked my friend if she was okay. My friend replied that she was still wet, and not the good kind of wet. It was all I could do not to spray the drink of water I had all over her. The waiter just walked away. Thanks Olive Garden.

Maybe The Olive Garden Can't Handle My Bad Week

Since I lunched at Sweet Tomatoes and spilled a cup of chili all over my arm and then knocked it out of my hand to spill all over the floor. I also accidentally let a little cup of butter fly across the bread area. Luckily it did not land on anyone. Maybe tonight's dinner will be awkward due to my knocking the endless salad on the birthday girl, and not because of a fighting couple.

Of Course

There was no other way this week could end. Beyond the files threatening to overtake my desk, and the fact that I forgot to brush my hair or wear deodorant today, the real fun was the last meeting I attended. Someone said (more than once) "I have a bite on my arm, and it itches really bad." Everyone looked at the bites (there were a few on the arms and legs) and then I heard, "I don't think those are bug bites, I think that is Chicken Pox." I couldn't have said it better. And I would just like to say welcome back Disease Of The Week. You have been sorely missed.

Tomorrow I will be attending a birthday dinner that may go great, or may be the most awkward mean the Olive Garden has ever witnessed. After facing down this work week I am no longer worried. But I do need to go wrap my gift. Good night all.

Best Week Ever

I wish I could say that Tuesday and Wednesday have been any better, but it appears that this is not my week. Tuesday morning began when I drove away with out my purse or my brief case. Luckily I had my cell phone to call and say I would be late (you know in case they thought I may have taken off for Mexico). I then proceeded to spill an entire cup of chocolate milk all over my car. Did I mention I have no kids or pets to blame this on? I was a good 30 minutes late to work but at least I had a new cup of milk (which was of course my concern). My day ended by being yelled at by a client for 30 minutes who then left smiling saying he got everything he wanted. Fantastic.

The highlight of today was when I was told I had a spider on my pants. I jumped up, yelled and beat my pants. I then sat back down and went right back to talking about good ways to be mad. I think I might have said, "I'm sorry but spiders really scare me." The person (who looked a little freaked) said in a quiet voice, "It was just a baby spider." That of course makes no difference to me.

So far this week I have also forgotten to brush my teeth before going to work (luckily I have a spare tooth brush in my office), and of course I forgot to brush my hair. No not only am I jumping around beating my pant legs like I am the village idiot, but I also have frizzy hair and gross teeth as well. Sweet. Very excited to get to Friday.

Waking Up On Monday Always Gets Me Down

I don't understand why every Sunday night my body acts like I'm two and fights sleep. I laid in bed for hours last night trying to fall asleep, and then once I did I woke up every hour. I walked into work today looking like someone punched both my eyes. Mondays suck it hard. It's become my pretend-to-care day. Next year I want a job that has Mondays off. I also want a job that pays me slightly more than I am child labor worker in a third world country, so we'll see.

In other news, my weekend was pretty laid back. I read a lot and watched The Prestige. This was a fun movie to watch because I always had a secret desire to be a magician. I knew this dream would never be realized because I do not have nimble fingers, I am a klutz, and I can't keep a secret to save my life. For these very same reasons I could also never be a cat burglar (which I also really wanted to do). My goal was to steal from the mean rich people and open a homeless shelter or a Montessori school for families who couldn't afford to pay. And of course be known as the coolest cat burglar ever.

Last but not least, my g-ma's party was a smash as far as family parties go. No one left mad, or depressed, or crying (except for the colicky baby), and my g-ma seemed to have a nice time. My brother and his brood showed up and he was pretty OK for most of it. Low Rider and Speed Racer are getting big, they just celebrated their 2 month b-day. It was to fun to interact with them. Well at least to interact with the non-crying baby (I am not sure who wasn't crying though, I still can't tell them apart).

The funny part of the night came when my uncle brought in the cake. You know how people can now have cakes with photo frosting on it? Well my uncle don't pay no mind to that new fangaled stuff,and just put real pictures on the cake. I never did find out who ended up with a picture (I got a frosting rose which was all I cared about).

Happy Birthday G-Ma!

My grandma has never read this blog, or used a computer, but tomorrow she turns 70 (she shares a b-day with Hitler in case anyone was wondering). All week long she has been on my mind.

She was born the oldest female of 7 kids. Her family was poor Southern folk, and her mother was addicted to drugs and mentally ill in a time when neither was discussed openly. She began working when she was a child, as a field worker for many different types of produce. To this day she will not eat figs because of a summer she worked in a fig packing house. She was in two major car accidents when she was young, and in one she lost a kidney. One accident happened the day she dyed her hair blonde and to this day when someone says "Blondes have more fun" she will laugh and then tell her story.

She got pregnant with my mother in high school and was forced to drop out of the 10th grade and marry her baby's daddy. She had 3 children with him, and eventually they divorced. I never met this man, and consider the man she remarried to be my grandfather. Throughout her life she worked hard, sometimes working for 16 hours a day. When she married my grandpa she was able to stop working and focus on her teenage children. With 3 teenagers in the house I bet there were days she wished she was back at work.

She is addicted to coffee and soap operas (her "stories") and as a baby she would give me coffee in my bottle and we would watch Guiding Light and As The World Turns.

She is an amazing cook and we always made great dishes when I went to visit her. Unfortunately the gene for great cooking was not passed down to me. I can remember being 4 or 5 years old and helping her make meatballs. Watching her put eggs, milk and meat together made me sick and I had to go lie down. It would be 23 years before I could make a meatball without feeling sick and she was the first person I called when I did it.

When I was 12 she got sick and divorced my grandpa. She moved in with my mom, and they have lived together for the last 17 years. Now being around them is a little like watching an episode of Golden Girls. When I was younger I liked having her in my home all the time. I mean, c'mon she makes cheesecake and tortes. As a teenager it was a drag because she was a light sleeper and she slept in the living room. I was never able to sneak out of the house.

Since getting sick all those years ago she has slowly become homebound. Now she will only travel to the grocery store, the drug store, or Walmart if she can get there at 6am. My greatest wish for her has always been better health. She is still addicted to coffee and soaps and I love talking to her about who Brooke and Ridge are seeing (The Bold And The Beautiful for those of you not in the know).

She loves cooking shows and the gardening channel but she mostly watches show on mute. I have never understood this, and it bugs me to death not to know what is happening when I visit, but I know she likes it.

She is also sure I am in a chronic state of starvation due to my student status, so every time I visit her she had a grocery bag full of rice, oatmeal, and eggs and top ramen. She makes care packages for her neighbors with things like pickles and jarred artichokes. She went through a phase of cooking weird dishes (like meatloaf that had whole hard boiled eggs in it) when I was in highschool. And about a year ago she made the now infamous Mayo Casserole (even a year later I feel sick thinking about it). You never know what you'll get with grandma, but her desserts still rock.

We are having a party for her tomorrow and I know it will piss her off because she hates being the center of attention. Happy B-day grandma.

Does This Tam Make My Head Look Big?

One of the perks of graduating with a doctorate is that I get to wear the poofy robes (the ones the faculty wear) and the poofy eight sided cap (which is called a tam). Well my tam was delivered tonight, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't sitting here in my pajama's wearing my tam as I blog. I think it makes my blog more dignified.

Linguine with Red Claw Sauce

Not sure what this is? Neither am I, but a contestant shouted it out on my favorite spelling show. Another dinner laugh brought to me by the folks at Wheel of Fortune.

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

Some days lend themselves to reflection. For me it has been a weekend of reflecting on my life, specifically my friends. Every night this weekend I have spent time with friends. Whether it was laughing over dinner with high school friends, experiencing a disturbing movie with grad school friends, meeting old work friends for sushi, or eating cookies with the girl who was my first best friend, there was lot of reminiscing.

As I was driving home from visiting with a friend whom I spent every weekend of junior high with, I realized how nice it was to have a friend whom I have not seen in 5 years, but yet we instantly began talking to like only 5 days had passed. I have always been a person who has a few close friends and many acquaintances, and at times my circle can seem small. Even when time and distance get in the way, I am lucky to have people who can easily fall back into our relationship. I used to feel like there was a problem with me because I am not more extroverted, but now I am content. I treasure my circle, and all the people who make it up. Driving home tonight I realized how blessed I am.

Gulp

Have I ever mentioned I am a wimp? I hate spiders and pretty much anything creepy-crawly. I am also a big ol' scardy cat when it comes to pretty much any scary/gory movie. I even flinch during action movies. That being said, I am a member of the Libertine's. We are three sometimes four (stupid) people committed to watching uncomfortable movies together. It all began when I innocently asked my friends to go see the Libertine. I thought it was like Dangerous Liaisons. I was wrong. So very wrong. So now when a gross/freaky movie comes out I get a call to go see it. And I do. I guess I think it makes it better if I see it with the group (stupid).

The phone call came tonight to see Grindhouse. I believe the exact message was "Libertines uniting for the double feature." And I went. I basically spent 10 dollars to keep my head turned or my eyes closed for 3 hours. The first movie traumatized me so badly I was in a hypervigilant state for the second movie and even when things were calm I was flinching and looking away, because I was sure any minute heads were be blown away or people would be eaten. We all walked out of that movie a little shell shocked, and it will be a long time before I willingly enter a hospital or a bbq shack.

I am going to go read a very light romance novel now and pray that the images of melting penis' and zombies leave my mind. I think I will be also sleeping with the lights on tonight. And by that I mean every light in my house. Like I said I am a wimp.

How to save a life...

According to a radio station I listen to, men who looked at women's breasts for 10 minutes a day had less heart disease, lower blood pressure, and lower pulse than men who didn't. Researchers said this is as good as spending 30 minutes at the gym. They even went so far as to say that it cut the risk of stroke and heart attack in half. This factoid supposedly came from the New England Journal of Medicine. So when men look at mine I'm saving lives. Good to know.

Perils of Blogging

Yesterday I read the Queen of Spain's post that linked to article about blogging and the public who reads them. At the end of the day one of my best friends called me to say that her family has found her blog (she does not get along with her family). Even though she did not use names they threatened to call the police (using slander as the reason). I think for the most part her drama is calmed down, but we talked about how hard it can be when you blog about family and friends and have the blog under your real name. But it did make me wonder how my brother or my mother would react if they read mine, since I have posted some of our more colorful experiences?

Take two naps and call me in the morning

Turns out I had neither pneumonia nor valley fever. I was just tired and stressed. Have I mentioned I am a hypochondriac?

My Easter Sunday was spent watching the Master's Golf game with my dad, who fell asleep but would magically wake up if I reached for the remote control. Then I went to my mothers for dinner, and laughed as she and my grandma would yell at each other from various parts of the house (and they have a very small house).
One conversation went like this:
Mom: were you calling me?
G-ma: what?
Mom: were you calling me?
G-ma: what?
Mom: I said were you calling me?!?
G-ma: No. I was calling you. Your phone rang.
Mom: What? (and then it began again. I am trying to figure out how to tell my mom she needs to be checked for a hearing aid).

My brother decided to come into town with his brood. They stayed at my father's house and decided to have their Easter festivities at 7am. Needless to say I missed the egg hunt. Considering there was only one child participating I don't think I missed much.

Holiday Illness has struck again

I feel achey and tired and not at all hungry. So basically I am sick and will spend my Friday off tomorrow in the doctors office. So far this week I been around people who have colds, the flu, pnuemonia and valley fever. It is a banner week for sickness. Thanks Easter Bunny, you rock!

Reasons why I am a dork (and proud of it)

*I competed in Academic Decathlon in High School and won 6 awards (including overall best in my grade section). I still have the medals somewhere.

*My first concert ever was Milli Vanilli and I was heart broken when it came out they were fakes ("Blame it on the Rain" still makes me feel nostalgic- and it makes me want to do that sideways foot dance they did so well).

*I used to watch Jeopardy with my friends in college and keep track of how much we won or lost. And I was pissed if I didn't win.

*I have waited in line at midnight to watch/buy Harry Potter products (and no I was not dressed like a wizard- but I did dress up like Professor McGonagall for Halloween one year).

*I am going to see Josh Groban tonight in concert and I am very excited. I am a major fan (though I hesitate to call myself a Grobanite). Many of you might think this is not so dorky---I am going with my father (who is also excited to see Josh Groban).

*To work today I wore a black sweater and black pants ( and pearls) with neon colored socks and white and blue walking shoes. I blamed the shoes on my foot, but I know I would wear this combo any day of the week.

More to come. Must go prepare for the concert...What makes you a dork?

Some fun things I learned this weekend


Mapquest hates me. Instead of sending me to Macy's in another town, I ended up at the county jail. Then I traveled to the local college. The staff of Macy's eagerly helped when I finally decided to chuck the mapquest directions out the window. And they didn't call me an idiot for calling back 3 times to confirm I was going the right way (at least not to my face but I'm sure they laughed like hell when I hung up the phone).

Apparently the way to win the war in Iraq is to air drop copies of Penthouse and Playboy into Iraq ("to liberate the oppressed Muslims"). This gem came from this really obnoxious guy I met on Saturday. I also learned that you look like an a-hole when you spend dinner talking about how much money you have then short change the dinner bill (I think he made his money stiffing dinner bills). Sadly I also learned that someone actually married him. Sorry ladies, he's taken.

I think my dad is sending me to Ireland as a graduation present. I am still stunned. He also agreed to have a dinner at his house for 60 people (in honor of my graduation). My father hasn't had anyone over for dinner since 1988 (I remember because there was a presidential election occurring and we watched a news program about it). I think I am more surprised by the dinner than by the trip.

Never tell a 3 year old that the toy you are giving him is not the same as the one he just took a part but it is still cool. The child will freak, his mommy will look at you like you have 2 heads, then try to undo your damage. Sorry Supermommy.

When you give the boy a 3rd toy, really talk up how cool it is and that it is bigger, and better than anything else he has ever seen. He won't believe you, but he may not complain.

Monday Recap

I was planning on posting about my weekend-like trying to drive to a Macy's out of town and ending up at a county jail (damn you mapquest), but then I decided to be healthy today and take a walk at work. I ended up twisting my ankle and slamming my foot into a sprinkler. The top of my foot is swollen and totally bruised. The moral of my story is being healthy sucks.