and you KNOW this, MAAAAAAAAN.

*sigh* I love Friday. The movie and the day… but today I am totally looking forward to NEXT Friday. The 4th of July Blitz. WOOT. Where my friend, ED (a girl, no I am not kidding) and I will probably drink too much and dance too loudly and drunkenly in my garage (wide open in front of the entire neighborhood) to 80’s music while we attempt to convince ourselves we are in junior high again.

My kid will roll their eyes, Mike will undoubtedly imbibe one too many keg beers and scorch his scalp under the firework sparks (AGAIN) and we will all eat too much, drink too much and be so damn merry that it will be the best 4th of July since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny fuckin’ Kaye.

Wait. Wait… wrong holiday.

Perhaps you get my point anyway, right?

*sigh* I freakin’ love summer.

I have been known from time to time to wake my husband up in the middle of the night whispering, “Michael!!!! Did you HEAR that?!?!?!?”

He wakes up, listens, doesn’t hear it, goes to check it out anyway, comes back to bed, teases me and goes back to sleep. Sometimes he acts grumpy and goes out to check and comes back bitching when he doesn’t find anything. Other times he says, “it’s ok, babe” rolls over and starts snoring loudly.

Except for the other night…

I woke up hearing some sort of drum beat that sounded very much like a tribe of cannibals were prepping for a feast. I shook Mike and watched as his eyes widened because, THIS TIME HE ACTUALLY HEARD IT!!! And, for once he was almost as scared as I was!

He crept downstairs (unarmed and wearing only his underwear) into the family room where nothing appeared to be disturbed with the exception of the keyboard that was on and playing a creepy (at least at 2am) drumbeat.

Liza must have been up torturing the bird and mouse partying and scared the living hell out of herself when she ran across the keyboard. Man, I wish I had a nanny cam in there or something!

The important thing here is that he finally heard the noise too.

For the first time in about two years - we were child-free.

As in…

Zero children.

The whole house to ourselves. Peace and quiet.

So we left.

We went out and cruised a couple of nursery sections of what may or may not have been chain nursery/home improvement type stores. Then we went out for drinks.

Not dinner. We were feeling wild and free… we went out for drinks.

We had a couple of dinner salads (need that fiber) and some guacamole (it’s the good kind of fat) and we had a few margaritas. And one or two of these:

A Mauricio’s Slammer

Then we came home and I hopped on my computer perusing Ebay while Mike hopped on his computer and perused the local Craig’s List. We were two wild and crazy human beings!

So we had a couple more drinks and my mind began to run with many splendid thoughts of child-less fun; Drinking, smoking cigars, voting… and then it occurred to me, something I hadn’t done in years… if ever! Yet, this was not the time to lament the past. Nay, this was the time to sally forth, or perhaps it was, “ride, Sally, ride…” either way, it was the time to be wild, reckless, and recover a moment of our youth!

We could *gasp* go out to breakfast!

Yes, YES! It could not BE more perfect! Party all night, get loaded with carbs and grease and go to bed, curl up to the sound of the television murmuring softly in the background (home improvement shows, of course!)! It would be the perfect ending to a wild, wild night!!!

My heart raced, my mind was ablaze with reckless abandon… I felt young, wild, and free… I looked at Mike, sitting there so strong and sexy, silently sipping his vodka gimlet (or tequila? I can’t remember if we had run out of gin by this time) and I knew that it was time to tell him of my wild yearnings. My deep desire was about to bubble forth with my wild and crazy idea when I glanced up at the clock…

It was 11:45pm and suddenly, I was very, very tired.

Carb.

As in, “low carb!”

Yes, yes, I’ve lost 13 pounds, but that does not mean that late at night I don’t hear pancakes, chocolate chip cookies, cheesecake, etc. etc. calling to me. On top of trying to adhere to my diet I now have discovered something… a deep secret that my family has kept from me.

Someone in this house has been buying M&Ms…

No, I’m NOT joking.

How did I come to find this out?

It was a cold and blustery night. I just couldn’t sleep… what with the television blaring a Chris Rock stand up special. I decided to have some (low*fucking*carb) ice cream to settle my nerves. As I arrived in the kitchen something occurred to me… “Oh my! (I said to myself) I don’t eat bread and yet, suddenly, I am VERY worried that we might not have any…” and I proceeded to ease my worries by searching the bread cabinet and just “happening” to find a bag of peanut M&M’s.

And, it is NOT my fault if tomorrow someone (hypothetically) finds an open bag of M&Ms with a bright pink post-it note that reads, “Ha ha, Fuckers! I ate most of your M&Ms!”

The “fuckers” part - I’ll blame on Atkins Rage or something like that.

“What do you want for Valentine’s Day?”

“Surprise me.”

“Surely you jest.”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“What do you want?”

“What do YOU want?”

With a sigh, “Uh, can you pay off the mortgage on the other house?”

“That’s not very personal.”

“I know, but I was just thinking… it would make a nice surprise.”

“Hmmm, let me check the bank but I really don’t think I’ll have an entire mortgage in my Valentine budget.”

“How about some cigars?”

“Cigars? Really? Didn’t I do that last year?”

“Yeah, but I’m running low, there is a great sale, and you didn’t get me any for Christmas.”

“Good point. Ok. Also, maybe I’ll order some of those flavored cigars… the cognac Capones.”

“Sounds good. Why don’t you get a cool looking humidor to put all the flavored cigars in?”

“Oooo, that’s a great idea.”

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Me: Geez, it’s COLD! Out here!!!

Ethan: Nah, it’s not that bad.

Me: My nipples beg to differ…

——————————–

Preface: I had an appointment that I had to go to. Maggie is still in a freak, uh, “digging for gold” stage. In an act of desperation (and it should be noted that desperation does NOT = child abuse) I put a tiny (TINY… TINY) dab of Tabasco on her finger in the desperate hope that she would start rooting around and set her nasal cavity on fire and encounter a slightly, uncomfortable sensation. I did not consider that I was leaving the repercussions of my actions to be visited upon Mike who would be left in charge of the afore mentioned child. Long story short, Maggie hit her eye before her nose and all hell broke loose. She’s just FINE. No trauma no problem no lasting side effects.

I was finally on my way out the door, kissed Maggs and Mike goodbye and just as I opened up the door to step out I heard behind me:

“Are you sure you don’t want to, I don’t know… put some lye in her rectum or something before you leave?”

Nice. As if I didn’t feel bad enough already. (I DID… I REALLY REALLY DID!!!)

———————————–

Overheard in the kitchen…

Mike: What the…? WHAT?!?! (sounding a lot like Chevy Chase) What kind of a security measure is this??!?!? *pause* “Fuckin’ Houdini couldn’t get an aspirin out of this bottle!!!!”

I never make resolutions. In fact, in the past, I’ve sworn that I never will. Until this year.

This year, I’ve decided to give it a try.

I’m making one… because I figure with ONE… how can you go wrong? There is no big list to remember, no guilt inducing goal that must be met, blah blah. It’s just one little change.

My resolution?

I will exercise at least 20 minutes DAILY.

That’s it. Pretty simple.

I can totally do this.

Starting the day AFTER New Year’s, of course.

I don’t want you to think that I made this resolution carelessly or without really giving it some serious thought. After all, people make big commitments to this sort of thing and were I to just haphazardly make a resolution all willy nilly… why that would just be spitting in the eye of those who really do this sort of thing every year. But, only if they stick to it… or give it a good try… if you are just a serial resolution maker - then suck it.

What was I saying? Oh, riiiiiight, that’s it. So, I thought I’d give you a list of resolutions I considered making but eliminated in my desire to just reduce it to one, do-able, resolution.

1. Lose weight.

Well, freakin’ duh. Everyone does that. I can’t do what everyone else does.

2. Stop swearing.

OMG. I’d have nothing left to say and THEN what would happen?

3. Become a better person who tries to bring about world peace.

Oh, come ON! I don’t know what I was smoking when I wrote THAT down.

4. Set a budget and stick to it.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAA… Hooo… hahahahaha… ahahaaha.. whooooo, oh boy, that IS a good one.

5. Stop wishing bad things on people who do stupid/mean/evil things to other people.

Pfft. Yeah right.

6. Ignore all stupidity thereby reducing my stress levels.

HA! With all the stupidity out there? Yeah right. Why not just ask me to end a drought with a rain dance… hmmmm?

7. Work on having more patience, love, tolerance, understanding, and compassion for others.

OH for the LOVE of PETE… I’m going down quite the redundant path here.

8. Learn to play an instrument.

Gah… or rather, jam a fork in my eye.

9. Travel more.

Or… I could just stay home.

10. Stop being manipulated into opening the emails that contain pics of Adam’s balls.

Oh come on… we all know if Adam says, “this is REALLY funny” that someone out there (probably me) is going to open the freakin’ email. Like I said, resolutions should be do-able, dammit!

See why I settled on the exercise one? It’s for the good of me the whole, body, mind and soul thing. It’ll be great. Just great…

Purging here, folks.

Ethan’s lovely girlfriend, Julie, has been stopping by in the mornings since the onset of Christmas break. I am so happy for them that they can steal a few quiet moments together. What I am not happy about is that typically I will interrupt their quiet time as I come barreling through the room with many thoughts of begging, cajoling, and bribing my son to make coffee. I’ll bust into the room (the family room) and they’ll be enjoying an episode of The Office on DVD and there I am in all of my “just woke up and stumbled down the stairs with my hair in embarrassing mushes and spikes” glory. Awful! Embarrassing!!!! Eeeeeek!!!!

I wish, sometimes, that I were more like my mother. Out of bed, shower, make up, perfectly coordinated outfit, blah blah. Except, I like taking showers at night, it relaxes me. And, I don’t wake up quickly enough to really desire make-up and a coordinated outfit. Oh, how I wish I could be a semi-June Cleaver. It’s just not me. I have several pairs of funky pajama pants that I adore. I love to wear them with matching knit, tunic tops. If I have work to do, I’d rather be comfortable and caffeinated rather than make-upped and coordinated. Although, for the record, I would never leave the house like this!

This morning I stumbled down the stairs to oooh and aaaaah over Julie’s GORGEOUS formal dress, it’s soooo retro and silver and beautiful! And after she left I noticed I had giant lint balls on my shirt because I was in a hurry (due to a desperate need for coffee) and grabbed the navy blue shirt that had been hanging in the laundry room.

After Julie left I apologized to Ethan profusely. Not that I’m totally kissing his ass… it’s just I have this one wall that I really want painted this week…

This is it! Two weeks of freedom for the family! WOO HOO!!! Hit play for the explanation:

Ok, so Wednesday shopping you heard all about that… ugh. What you didn’t get to hear about is what happened Wednesday night! After the kids were in bed for the night, Mike and I ran downstairs to pull all the loot out of Mike’s truck. I kept looking up at Ethan and Kate’s windows to see if they were watching. I told Mike that I figured Ethan was watching because it wasn’t all that late and his blinds were open. Mike laughed at me.

Just about the time we got up to the door one of the toys in the bags said, “Hello!” (a talking parrot), and scared the hell out of both of us. At first Mike thought it was Ethan and answered back, “Hey! Jerk!”

I knew immediately what it was (even though I did jump) and stared at Mike wondering who he was saying hello to or uh, yelling at. He stared at me, I stared at him and then it occurred to me, he didn’t realize that there was a parrot in one of the bags. I pointed at the bag and said, “Shhh!!!”

Of course, we both started giggling hysterically and laughed all the way up the stairs while almost constantly “shushing!” each other.

After we got the parrot upstairs and hidden in the closet - twice more it said Hello! When we had to go into the closet to put more things away. It scared me twice! Damn bird! Nothing like thinking your husband’s hiking boots are talking to you!

So, the final push to Christmas continues. How ironic that this time of year somehow feels like giving birth, hmm? Still grocery shopping to do and one or two final odds and ends to pick up, but all in all the shopping is done in literally less than 48 hours. Eeeek. Next year, I don’t care what it takes… I’m doing all of my shopping ONLINE.

Actually, this little Yuletide fiasco has really made me appreciate my online shopping capabilities in a brand new way.

In other Yuletide news… I got this lovely card from my MIL

Hmmm, I wonder what she is trying to say here?

*sigh*

Okey dokey, I’ve got presents to wrap and a 5 day weekend in front of me… if I haven’t said it already here goes…

I send you all season’s greetings and my very best wishes for a warm and wonderful Christmas!

Merry Christmas!!!

Twas the week before Christmas and all through the house… a bell was jingling on Liza’s catnip mouse.

And how could I resist sharing the joy…
with every internet girl and boy!

Bask in my Christmas glory, bitches! That’s right, baby. Those are GEN-U-INE Santa Freakin’ Claus slipper socks. Slipper socks - as in little traction things on the bottom and definitely too thick to wear with shoes.

My feet were cold and I had almost (almost) forgotten about these warm and toasty suckers. Kate and I had matching slipper socks last year for Christmas. :cheesy: She might have fed hers to the dog.

But, not me! And, when I saw how awesomely Christmas-ey they looked on me… I just HAD to take pictures. Then I strolled into the kitchen and stepped in a puddle of water on the floor in front of the coffee maker. Some anonymous person had been a little sloppy when he/she made coffee this morning!

Alas, one damp spot could not dim the shining glory that is my Santa Claus slipper socks. Nope, no sireee bob. I smiled gaily (in that jubilant Christmas sort of way) looked at the coffee pot (for there was no one here to blame) and said, “Fucker!!” but, I did it with a smile!

Then I strolled my happy ass (you stroll when you wear these socks, baby) into the office so that Mike could bask in the glory of my Christmas socks. However, the glory was wasted on his Scroogey Morning Anti-Christmas Ass for he had work to do. I did as well, but, I did it almost happily in a nearly maniacal sort of way because I was wearing my awesome Santa Claus slipper socks.