Ok, so when I originally posted this YouTube was down for maintenance and I couldn’t get the video up that I wanted. I’m adding it now… Doran Pumpkin Carving.

Now, don’t stop to figure out a plan… you can’t reason with a headless man!

We are currently having a flash flood warning. My extreme weather notice on my little weather channel doo-hickey on my desktop says that, “Trained weather spotters have noted flash flooding on highway…”

And, I’ve GOT to know what does it take to be a trained weather “spotter.” I mean, seriously, can’t just ANYONE be a “spotter?” We all played “I-Spy” as kids, I would consider that enough training to be a spotter. And, furthermore, given the choice, I think I’d rather be a “meteorologist” than a “trained weather spotter.”

Trained Weather Spotter… that sounds a lot like “Indian Trail Guide” to me. Why not just say that “flash flooding has occurred…” They are The Weather Channel, were they afraid that they were lacking credibility and had to add “Trained Weather Spotters” to their warning?

I saw hail earlier when there was a big thunderstorm. I know it was hail. It was pea-sized chunks of ice falling from the sky, that is hail. I guess that makes me a “Trained Hail Spotter.”

Finally saw it. Great movie. Lots of shocks and thrills, quite the roller coaster ride. And, yet, as with many films of this nature, there was a sad element that was a little tough to swallow.

I liked it, but I probably wouldn’t watch it again.

The weekend was really great. No complaints there. Beer is good, Bloody Marys are good… friends and family are great.

This is one of my oldest and dearest friends, ED and her boyfriend, Rob goofing off with Ethan Saturday night.

I love Rob, he’s one of those guys that you hang around and end up saying, “wow, he’s fucking cool!”

I consider any party where no one leave either at all or well after midnight a success. So, HalloweenFest was quite a success. Lots of fun… we’ll keep doing it.

Uh, so, I worked late last night and forgot to write up a post for today.

I’ve got… nothing.

Here you go, my motto for the day:

The last time I had my hair done I went from this:

To this:

And, while it was short(er) it just wasn’t good enough. So I got wild hair to lose a few… hairs that is. Snip snip snip.

I ended up with this:

I might have just lost my damn mind this time. My mom says it’s cute and that I am very brave to do something like this, Britt says it is striking (which, uh, might be an interesting way of saying, “DEAR GOD WHAT DID YOU DO?!??!), Adam likes it, Mike loves it, Kate says it’s different, but not bad different, and Ethan says it is just OK. He prefers it a little longer. Worse yet, he keeps referring to me as, “Judy Dench” and I don’t take that as a compliment, fuckyaverymuch.

I loved it, but now I’m on the fence. A little too late, I might add.

Eh… it’s hair, it grows back. At least now I can wear that cute little bucket hat I found… so if nothing else, it’s an excuse to shop.

:cheesy:

BTW, to divert attention away from my hair and this pathetic post only 60 days until Christmas!!!

:evil:

Soooo, tonight Mike and I went to BJ’s Brewhouse. We tried a few different beers ( I am TOTALLY getting into beers now, uh, microbrewery beers, to be exact.) and basically hung out and relaxed. It’s an odd occurrence for us because typically, our “relax time” is after the kids have gone to bed. And, as we all know, Maggie is a freakin’ night owl.

Annnyywayyy, we hung out at BJ’s for about an hour and then we came home. Of course, by the time we came home the beers were settling in and I really needed to… uhm, hug my chinchilla. So, I brought Sophie on out so we could shop online together and have mommy and chin bonding time.

We hung out and had a really good time until she realized that I was taking pictures. She has a no picture clause in her contract.

This is Sophie saying, “No pictures! No comment!!” She likes to pretend that her entire life is a horrific, gossip page scandal.

See, this is Sophie recreating the “shark incident” from last summer:

and this is Sophie recreating her drinking contest win from last Labor Day.

Not bad for someone who wasn’t even a year old yet, huh?

And this is Sophie completely fed up with me spending more time on my blog than shopping online with her…

It must be very hard being a Chinchilla Socialite. Don’t you think?

Halloween has taken a turn for the worse and to be perfectly honest I want my boy back.

Oh for the days when Ethan dressed up. He was FUN and in the Halloween spirit. Now, I’m left with two girls and both are driving me batty.

Blech. Screw Halloween right up it’s little Jack O’ Lantern ass.

First we have the almost teenager, Kate.

She still has not forgiven me for the year she wanted to go as a “pretty Princess” and the boys (Ethan and GJ) were going as Knights. Putting a Halloween spin on things I painted them up to look like Ghosts/Corpses. They looked adorable in a very Halloween sort of way. Kate nearly threw a tantrum and to this day bitches at me for it.

I have a picture somewhere of her dressed in her little princess costume and ghostly make up with a decidedly pissed off look on her face. Wish I could find it…

This year she wanted to go as a 50’s teenybopper complete with poodle skirt. Oh yes, this is just soooo original. Know what I went as when I was her age? Madeline Usher… oh yes, the crazy sister of Edgar Allen Poe’s classic “Fall of the House of Usher.”

And yes, there was that ONE year when my mother was still making all the Halloween-related decisions and dressed me up as a Geisha, complete with face make up, my long hair twisted into a painfully authentic style, and a kimono.

Imagine, the mortification my mother, the Sunday school teacher, experienced when she found out what a Geisha really was. Bwahahahaha! Not that Geisha’s are prostitutes, but, it is a wide misconception that this is the case and naturally probably did not look so great for a Sunday school teacher to have dressed her daughter up as such. :evil:

While I have managed to steer Kate away from Poodle Skirt Hell, she is now committed to dressing up as a freakin’ genie… in pink no less. Gah. Pink satin outfit, pink sparkley flip flops, sequins, and pretty make up.

And somewhere the Grim Reaper is groaning in pain.

The younger daughter aka The Demon, the one that one might expect to be all “up in my grill” wanting to be a witch, or a devil, or SOMETHING Halloween-esque, wanted to be one of the following:

Someone shoot me. Now.

As I previously mentioned, we have now managed to get her to somewhat agree to dressing up as Ellen, of Edgar and Ellen.

Or so I thought.

I found the perfect striped, footie pajamas. The perfect wig (which I will have to put into pig tails and add bows, no big deal) and the PERFECT treat bucket. The treat bucket is none other than Edgar and Ellen’s pet, Pet.

The striped pajamas came in and Maggie screamed when she saw them.

I had to try them on her and she sobbed the entire time saying, “I can’t DO this annnnYYYYYMORE!! I can’t TAKE IT… someone HELP ME!!!!”

I brought the treat bucket home… she ran and hid under my desk.

I tried the wig on her… she sobbed hysterically.

And, I have to tell you that this costume could not BE more perfect.

This time, I’m putting my foot down. She’s going to wear this damn costume if it kills her and she’s going to damn well LIKE IT!!!!!

We were watching A Haunting on the Discovery Channel and everyone was getting a little twitchy. Mike walked over to the kitchen and Kate left the room to check something on my computer (which sits on an old, old, family desk)…

*BOOM*

Mike jumped and gasped. Kate walked back into the room…

Kate: I’m okay!

Mike: I’m not! I nearly shat myself!!! I thought you were in here, and there’s a boom I figured the old desk in there exploded.

———-

Ethan and I were catching part of Haunted History on some channel or other…

Narrator: People naturally wonder what is beyond this life, what is beyond?

Ethan: What is beyond? I don’t know, but I can tell you that a galaxy far, far away comes before it.

After 3 Martinis… :evil:

Obviously, do not use your beloved Pilates ball.

Waxing… of ANY kind.

Discuss Bush’s Foreign relations and lack of diplomacy with your borderline Republican husband.

VideoBlog.

Landscape

Run up or down the stairs.

Play with the psychotic cat

Call Avitable. He’ll record it and turn it into Ring Tones… then he’ll threaten to sell them.

Lay down and then jump up really fast and land on a stack of glossy (and slippery) catalogs then nearly grab your grandmother’s antique lamp to catch your balance.

(JUST KIDDING ON THAT ONE MOM… HONEST! I LOVE THOSE LAMPS!)

Let’s just say I usually brush my teeth before I drink the martinis. I’m not going to explain why, but it MIGHT be that I almost impaled myself on my tooth brush. Maybe.

Talk to the resident teenager in the house who took debate his entire freshman year of high school.

Talk to the resident 3 year old who doesn’t give a shit if she is irrational or absurd, you are still wrong.

Have sex Never mind, I don’t know WHAT I was thinking there.

Write a poosst about all the thingsh you shouldn’t do while drinking martineees.

Hopelessness… and the black veil settles.

I’m tired, abnormally so. I fell asleep on the couch and I’m not sure how long I was out. I’d like to find a way to make this funny but I’m at a complete loss.

I didn’t take my medication on Tuesday night. I woke up at 6am and knew that if I didn’t at least take 1/2 a pill that today would be a “bad” day. 1/2 a pill as a similar effect to a whole pill in the sense that it makes me very, very tired, which is why I take them at night.

So I spent the day in a fog, tired, restless, unable to pay attention to anything. Just my luck on a day that I had 3 files to complete. Going back over the things I had done worried I had missed something, not remembering if I remembered to check this box or that one. I was nervous, no… anxious, all day. Taking any slight change in Mike’s tone as a personal offense. Worrying constantly that he was upset with me for some reason. Not that he was, just that, well, anxiety disorder, you tend to worry a bit. Although, that isn’t quite right either, because honestly, he felt like he was coming down with a cold and was being a little grumpy too. Just confirmation that fate was conspiring to give me the worst day possible.

Maggie spent the day going between throwing tantrums and making messes. Not her usual M.O. believe it or not.

By the late afternoon I was expected to babysit a client who couldn’t seem to find her PayPal password to pay for her appraisals online. I try not to discuss clients or business here, and truthfully, this isn’t a client, she’s the client of a client. So, walking a fine line and being shoved into the line of fire by my husband who was rushing out the door, I made the call. On days like this I avoid the phone like the plague, but it was either make the call or deal with Mike’s irritation over my not making the call.

The woman was a shrew which is probably the nicest way to describe someone who is much, much older and beyond, well, mean. I basically had my ass handed to me on a platter, did the usual customer service bullshit of apologizing, accommodating, etc. etc. I finally managed to work it out for her just to put a damn check in the mail, all the while wondering why she didn’t just hand Mike a check at the time of the inspection. But, oh no, at that time she was insisting on paying with a credit card.

By the time I called Mike back to explain how the situation was remedied, I had to endure him complaining at me for allowing them to mail us a check. A similar arrangement that he has made numerous times in the past, “…and now she’s going to make us look bad to our client…” he suggested that I email the client. I suggested he call the client personally to make sure things were smoothed over.

Given his response, I can now assure you that this was not a good suggestion.

So, I hung up on him.

And, now I sit in front of the monitor attempting to write a post that in know way expresses how I am really feeling or relieves the heavy feeling or the potential for a torrent of tears. What I really want to do is lock myself in my bedroom and eat a pound of M&Ms with a gallon of milk, and not that skim or 2% shit either.

It’s all I can do to keep myself from doing that and ruining the 3 weeks worth dieting on Nutrisystem that I’ve been doing. Down 5 lbs. One night with M & M - I’ll be up 7…

Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed.