Addiction #8

It is the prelim to spring. Rain more than snow, brief days of 50 degree weather. The call to be on the company softball team. Thinking about buying bulbs. Glancing at swimsuits.

And little girls hocking cookies. Many little varieties of cookies, all clamoring to be eaten. I had a job trying to set appointments by walking door to door. And I used these little girls as a model for improving the job. Seriously the best door to door salepeople ever.

Anywhore.

To score some of this really fabulous goodness you follow these 3 steps:

1. You hand over some cash ($4 a box?! Damn inflation).
2. You get cookies.
3. You run to your car and eat a whole box before you even start the engine. Crying.

Last night I was having a blast munching on some Caramel Delights, drinking beer, and playing a new PS3 game. 3 Addictions in one! All in all, a nice Friday night for a single mom. Ok, actually kinda lame - shut up. But I can say that last night was a little better with every cookie I ate.

Until I ran out of cookies.

Dammit.

And the addiction begins...

pee ess - These addictions are effing up my swimsuit chances.

Happy Birthday TO ME!!!

I rotated around the sun one more time today. I have technically been celebrating for about 4 days now - cause, hell, why not? But today the the official day. Washington was born on this day many many moons ago, and because of that I have had many cherry tree references in my past.

But this year, I get to use the best reference ever for my age.

This year, I'm 34.

This year I get to use Sally's sentiment for my big day.

Harry: "Why are you crying?"
Sally: "Cause I'm going to be 40!"
Harry: "In SIX years!"

Last night, I had a realization that I am slowly turning into Sally. I never thought I would be high maintenance. Never, ever. But last night, I was craving a burger. So when we went out to dinner, I ordered the California burger, but then changed everything on it but the avocado. I believe it was Hamburger patty, avocado, grilled ortega chili and pepper jack cheese. I changed it to Turkey patty, avocado, grilled onions, and cheddar cheese. Hell, I even changed the fries to BBQ beans. When I was done, I couldn't stop laughing. Like, I expected the waitress to start to cry, or spit in my food. But what ran thru my head?

"I just want it the way I want it."

Maybe that's the sign of adulthood. Making things change for you, instead of changing yourself. I'm done changing. I am flexible, but seriously, I'm old now. Why should I bend, when someone else can make the little efforts and then I can be way more happy? I think this is big step for me. Considering most days I still feel 17 and in dire need of a reality check, this recognition of ME is essential to my personal growth.

That, and I just want it the way I want it, dammit.

Mine's Bigger Than Yours; 2010 Woman's Olympics

It is THE day.

The day where women fight tooth and nail using the most diabolical of weapons. Some women choose peace and eschew the bloodbath. Some woman cannot compete. Those that do, hope they can pull out on top. Can be the best in their category.

Today. Is. Valentine's Day.

And weapon? Flowers. The bigger, the more expensive, the earliest to get them - WINS.

This year has been especially hard on those competing. Because Valentine's day falls on a Sunday AND Monday is President's Day. So if you wanna make a stand, you have to get them Today! Bringing them in the Tuesday after isn't going to show as well as having them delivered at work in front of all of the other competing women 2 days prior. That means there was planning. And forethought. Two of the biggest complaints women have about their men.

This year we have three bouquets of roses on the floor. Each one bigger than the next. And the women, especially the married ones, who do not have flowers envy those women their status symbols of love.

I am lucky to have just started a relationship, and feel no need to explain that my boyfriend or husband is "planning" something for this weekend and of-course-he-loves-me-as-much-as-your-flowers-say-he-loves-you. It is way too early for that. I can breathe a sigh of relief.

But watching this year's Woman Olympics has been enjoyable. And seeing what will be provided for judging on Tuesday should allow this competition to last a full week. Personally, I'm pulling for the current leader who has a fireman BF that sent 12 of the biggest roses I have ever seen interspersed with 6 giant orchids. I explained to her how to make edible body paint to use on her valentine for a reward. Let's hope he is aptly rewarded.

TGIFuck me

I am sure everyone has seen that list of observations that has this listed:

"There is a certain point during the day when you know you will quit being productive."

I think I hit this point before I even woke up.

(Which was at 4:30 am. I almost came in wearing glasses and no make-up. But thanks to all the flak I got for getting contacts, I am kinda leery about ever wearing glasses in public again. When your VP of Operations stops mid-discussion and says, "Wow, you have beautiful eyes", you just can't go back. It is the final nail in the lazy coffin.)

Anywhore.

So, today? I'm lollygaggy. I wanna lose myself into a nice complex spreadsheet so rife with formulas you'd need Excel Superpowers to operate it, but instead, I am stagnant in report running, JE pulling, tea making, bubble chewing swamp of non-excel activities. Somedays I really miss a more physical job. I've had a few and being physically tired at the end of a day is somewhat more rewarding that mentally tired. But I am WAY better at the mental activites. Anyone who's seen me play softball can attest.

Also, I have "Never Gonna Give you up" stuck in my head thanks to that douche nugget, Kurt.

I could have had this amazing song, I heard this morning by Jaron and The Long Road to Love called Pray For You.

Here's the chorus:

I pray your brakes go out runnin’ down a hill
I pray a flowerpot falls from a window sill and knocks you in the head like I’d like to
I pray your birthday comes and nobody calls
I pray you’re flyin’ high when your engine stalls
I pray all your dreams never come true
Just know whereever you are honey, I pray for you

Mind you this SOUNDS like a cutesy romantic ballad but is aptly chock full of homicidal tendencies.

But no.

I have:

Never gonna give you up,
Never gonna let you down,
Never gonna run around and desert you,
Never gonna make you cry,
Never gonna say goodbye,
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you

Please.
Kill.
Me.

Hump On! ep. #2

It is Wed-nes-day again.

And there is one thing I look forward to almost as much as Postsecret on Monday morning.

Miss Banshee's Bachelor Recap.

I swear I see this article on MamaPop.com and MUST. READ. IT.

Miss Banshee's insight into the Bach and his ladies are so snarkily fabulous.

Here are a few lines and just frigging rock:

"It's like a "foreign country" to Jake. Yes, dippy, that's why they dubbed it "CHINATOWN." Dipshit."

"Dios mio, don't drink every time Jake brings up Tenley's divorce, guys. You'll be in ICU by the third commercial."

"YES. Home visits are the best, especially when the chicks' families are better suited for "Cops" or "Intervention." Next week is going to rule."

Hell, she even snarks commercials:

"Commercials. Buy your girlfriend a diamond engagement ring or she'll never give you oral sex."

Seriously, when there is a week when it isn't a new epi? I kinda die inside a little. And when this season is over? I will sob. Loudly. And hope Miss Banshee picks another reality show I don't watch to rip to shreds. Hell, I'd be happy if she chose Dexter and mutilated it. I'd still love her, but would start to non-judgementally talk about her behind her back. Just a little.

Happy More Shitty Weather Day

Yep, that damn groundhog says more winter.

Maybe I should think of this as a blessing - my kids can ski longer on their season passes. Gotta get them really good at something, so they can support me when I'm really, really old. I'm thinking by the time I turn 39.

One interesting tidbit about Mr. Punxsutawney Phil? Is where he lives. Did you ever catch a gander at the name of his little house?

Gobbler's Knob

As I wiped up the coffee I spit all over my keyboard, I couldn't stop thinking...

I'll gobble Phil's knob.

Knob gobbler.

knob nom nom nom.


Now I can't get it out of my head.

Stupid groundhog's day