Tuesday, September 29, 2009

the real first day of fall

Rah and i went to dinner and a show last night! TapDogs! we had salad, crab, salmon and a bottle of wine for dinner and accidentally got to the show 10 minutes late. but it was totally great. Rah whispered to me about one of the performers, "he must be Jewish, he's wearing a yamaka..............OMG NEVERMIND HE'S BALD" and we couldn't control our fits of laughter. it was fun

today is the real first day of fall in spokane. like it's finally cold. like it's time to put up my autumn wreath, and i wore outerwear for the first time on my walk with Cleo.

and i farted this glorious fall morning and it smelled exactly like the crab, salmon and wine combo working it's unmistakable magic on my body. JJ comes up and says, "MY GOD! it's like a bug repellent!" and i said, "it smells like bug repellent? that's weird." he said, "no, it acted as a bug repellent. it smells like a honeybucket." oy.

and here's the best piece of advice i've gotten in a long time. at work, from Bernie in 624: "when you get older......don't get older." thanks for that gem Bern.

also, there is renovation going on at work...in the lobby. so the doors are open, a jackhammer is going, and i'm getting pretty high on paint fumes. i would say that it's all really cramping my style, but i basically have no tasks today, so i can't complain. i shall be happy as a clam with my sweater hood up, leaning back in my chair, and breathing deeply.

also, the library is blocked off. therefore my sanctuary is off limits for today. so i did it....i moseyed on into the employee breakroom and discovered that, at 9:30 in the morning, the "snack" of choice is a grouping of potato chips and mountain dew. HELLO HEART ATTACK.

you know, the first real day of fall has been a little weird.

being hit on

yesterday i was hit on. and i mean, i don't really mind being hit on, it boosts my self esteem and makes me feel hot. but it was the weirdest situation i have ever endured. it went like this:

man walks to my desk. picture it: long tangly brown hair, a yellow t-shirt with red and green stripes with some sort of Slavic language printed across the front. he had a man purse and here's the kicker--wait for it-- a GIANT amethyst ring on his left pinky finger. and so it went like this:

L: (in cheery receptionist voice) "hello! how can i help you?"
guy: "hi i'm Robert. i used to work here. i need the head of gardening to fill out this stop work form for me by today or tomorrow, what's your number we should hang out sometime."
L: WTF?!?!?>D>S?DFJDFLHJ "uh, i'm married."
Robert: "so?"
L: awkward laugh.
Robert: "i'm married too...actually i used to be married. it didn't work out."
L: "oh....well...i'll...givethistothegardenerokbye!"

7 minutes later

L: (answering phone) "thank you for calling RSH this is L"
Robert: "hi, i was just in there...? i forgot to leave my contact information..."
L: "ok..."
Robert: "555-5555....don't call me late at night now, ok?"

HOW AWKWARD WAS THAT ENTIRE EXCHANGE?! and why did he have to be weird? why couldn't he have been a cool guy?

i really enjoy the moment when i can sweetly and bashfully say, "oh, i'm married!" and show the guy my ring. it's such a Hollywood movie moment, isn't it? like i always pictured myself being able to say it, but now that it's REAL, it's even more fun! like ha ha you missed out, i'm a catch, yes, i know, but it's too late, i have a wonderful husband who lets me fart in front of him. and i'm never going back to being single ever again.

Monday, September 28, 2009

the things i do great and the things i do not great

my yearly report at work.

i have: excellent customer service/attitude
i am: a quick learner and excellent communicator
it's great that i: was willing to take on employee newsletter (which is going to be fantastic by the way!!!!)

i have exceptional public contacts, employee contacts and planning and organizing skills.

and most importantly, i got an "exceptional" in grooming and dress. little do they know i do not shower, and therefore cannot have exceptional grooming skills...but HEY! YES PLEASE AND THANK YOU I WILL TAKE AN EXCEPTIONAL IN DRESS.

here is what i need to work on: being here by 7:30. i got a satisfactory in observance of work hours and attendance. oopsie daisies. not even a "very good"...i had all that time off this summer for wedding things (!!!) and i have a hard time getting to work on time. but i told myself "self you need to try harder." so try harder i have. i mean i don't want to get an "improvement needed" or EGADS! an "unsatisfactory" next year.

and since i have started getting up 15 minutes earlier to walk the dog (i.e. for 2 days), it hasn't been too difficult to get to work on time. until today. this morning my alarm when off at 6:15 and it WAS PITCH BLACK OUTSIDE. HELLSSS NO I'M NOT GETTING UP IN THE DARK. snooze for 15. wake up at 6:30. still decide to take Cleo for a walk. REALIZE HOW LATE IT IS rush to get dressed. blouse gets caught in hook and eye of pencil skirt. scream at JJ to fix it. he declares he will not fix it until i talk nice. sigh heavily and dramatically. apologize to JJ for being "mean" he works on relieving blouse from hook and eye for too long. i scream again. he pouts again. i apologize again. he unhooks the blouse. ALAS! run to kitchen. throw some PB&J on bread, put tea in travel coffee mug "seeyalaterhaveagooddayjjbyeloveyou"

i get to work a whopping 5 minutes late. DAMN. i hurry down the hallway and run into Stan in 406. he is very prompt and times my schedule with his own. like if he comes out of the elevators and i'm sitting at my desk he smiles and says hello. if he comes out of the elevator and i am just getting to my desk he smiles and says "ooh, just on time." or today....he got off the elevator and i wasn't there. so he walked down the hallway to meet me. just so he could frown and say, "you're late."

THANKS STANNNNNNNNN kasjdfljksadfdauo9wejlkfd

Sunday, September 27, 2009


all you bitches have them. Period Panties. the most enormous saggy-butted VS pair you own. KitKat and LJ...you know which ones are mine; gray, "bikini cut," (i put "" around "bikini cut" because they are seriously cut like a 1995 women's bathing suit. really high on the hips with a huge piece of fabric covering the crotch) hideous and surprisingly roomy. remember that book, "The Mitten," where all the animals squeeze into one tiny glove? i feel as if i could have my own ass, all those animals AND a small country fit in my Period Panties quite comfortably.

well i was wearing said Panties (ok ok, i admit, i have 2 pairs. so i can alternate) yesterday when i was getting ready for work. JJ hates these undies. like realllly hates them. as i was pulling up my slack jeans, JJ said, "wait....you're going to fit all of that underwear into those small jeans?" i laughed facetiously HAR HAR HAR JJ YOU'RE SO FUNNY. then he just kind of slightly raised his eyebrows and watched me. indeed it was difficult fitting those giant Period Panties into a tight pair of slack jeans. it was quite the struggle. i had to first remove all the animals and the small country, then tuck and fold, lift, twist...it would have been easier just to take them off, but since JJ was such a smartass about the Period Panties, i had to succeed at stuffing them into my pants. after a couple of minutes and an incredible amount of force, the Period Panties were in! and not even a crease of a VPL (Visible Panty Line for all my men readers) to be seen. "hah," i said to JJ and turned on my heel to go to work.

i got to work and had to pee. FUDGE! all that work stuffing my Period Panties into my slack jeans wasted!

so i just took them off and put them in my purse.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

it's all Cleo's fault.

i have given up on jazzercise...kind of. i have started a new regimen: i wake up 15 minutes earlier and take Cleo for a walk to end of Spring Creek and back. this morning she peed 3 times AND took a huge dump (which i picked up and put in my neighbors garbage tee hee). it's exercise for me and C, and is great for emptying her out!!!

as i have mentioned before, our house has smells like dog pee with glade noticeables covering up the smell. we tried everything. carpet cleaner, baking powder, arm&hammer pet odor remover...also, i have been through 4 eyeliner pencils in the last week. the damn dog loves to chew eyeliner pencils.

so our newest conquest: we bought Cleo a baby gate to lock her in the kitchen which is quite large and roomy for a tiny pup. if she pees in the kitchen, we can clean it up much easier than the carpet, not to mention my eyeliner pencils are safe. i elevated Chanel's litterbox to prevent almond roca treats for Cleo, and put all of the dog's toys, her bed and a few bones in there with her. well yesterday, i decided to test the baby gate for the first time. i put her in there so i could real quick paint my fingernails (sally hansen insta-dry...best EVER). i have to keep my fingernails painted because of the bum door-slam f-you finger...it looks like a corpse fingernail when left unpainted. so i put Cleo in the kitchen, and went around the corner to paint. i hear the dog try to scratch her way out. "ha ha," i thought, "you are stuck." and i continued painting. then i heard: she slowly and deliberately backed up and then head butted the gate at full speed, knocking it down sucessfully. HOW IS THAT REAL? i have the dumbest dog in history but she knows how to knock down a baby gate. my nails are wet (insta-dry is not THAT instant) and i try to put the gate back up, and i ended up messing up my nails. just when i start to think Cleo isn't the dumbest dog ever, i see her run for cover. this is where she went:

the shower. back to being the dumbest dog ever.

i was running late to work, so i glared at her and said, "i'll get you next time..." and she tilted her head and wagged her tail.

i got to work, went about my business feeding baby P...........and my bum fingernail falls off.

it's all Cleo's fault.

i did it! i did it! i finally did it!

i got JJ to play phase10. for reals. a whole game. here is the proof:

me, JJ, phase10 and a pepperoni nipple.

just so we're clear: i creamed him 125 to 510 (the object is to get the lowest score)

Friday, September 25, 2009

turkey problems

today is not my proudest day.

i had spaghetti for breakfast, had a cow because grey's anatomy wasn't available for viewing on abc.com (was later found on hulu, thank GOD), and........well......i hissed at a turkey.

let me just start by saying i was in a foul mood. i got spaghetti sauce on our sheets because i ate spaghetti for breakfast in bed. it was my own fault, but it was what started the foul-ness. i paused grey's anatomy (i know i know...it's so dumb that i even still care about that show) to grab the stainstick, just as Cleo started barking uncontrollably. so i cursed and went to see what was the matter. and there it was. a wild turkey right outside the kitchen window. i don't know what the turkey obsession is with Spring Creek but they are there all the time!

i wanted to get back to my show and my spaghetti, so i did the only thing i could do: (afterall, i WAS wearing just underwear, i couldn't go out there and chase the damn thing) i hissed at the turkey. i hissed loudly and proudly and violently. the turkey looked me in the eye and walked away. "hah!" i thought, "nice job L!" then i stared at myself in the mirror with bewilderment. "DID YOU JUST HISS AT A TURKEY? HISS?!??!!"

i still feel foolish, but let me just ask this: what would YOU do to get rid of a wild turkey? huh?

the second best day ever.

there was a time in my life, junior year, when i had no friends, no boyfriend, no one...(see the post about the things i did when i lived alone). i truly felt GU wasn't the place for me. so what did i do? i went to pullman every weekend of course. i even applied to WSU and was ready to transfer schools, much to the dismay of my UW parents. i grew up a husky. so they were all heartbroken. but i would have been so behind i would have graduated late, and basically my time at GU would have been a waste of 75 thousand dollars or so. i ended up staying, i now firmly believe, rightfully at GU.

but there was that time when i had a little cougar in me. and cougars are crazy. like crazy. even ask LJ. i threw a fit when she forced me into husky gear that one time at apple cup. you can be a husky all your life, but get cougar in you and everything spirals out of control. the cougars know how to party.

FOR THE RECORD: i now realize that: i effing hate football. so i could give a shiste less if the huskies or cougars won.

however, i shall never forget: the second best day ever. (the first best is not blog/parent/grandparent friendly)

and so it begins...

it is a t-shirt that still holds precedence in my closet: the WSU baseball tee with a greasy-ish mustard-y stain on it. i love that t-shirt. Sam let me borrow it once, and the rest is history. that shirt is filled with stories that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life.

Sam and i went to Seattle to meet KKiss for her birthday celebration at the Justin Timberlake concert (YEAHH) but not before we made a stop at a WSU tailgating party. jeans, "the t-shirt" and greasy hair. add sunflower seeds, screaming drunk fans and beer to the mix and you've got yourself a pretty nice day.

we pulled into the tailgating party. nice n early. Sam got herself a jack and coke (tres delish before noon) and i started with a beer. before we knew it, we had switched sunglasses and made friends with married men in the porta-potty line. we were nice and sloshy, an embarrassing array of drunken acts. the hours passed, and eventually everyone went into the game.

Sam and i didn't have tickets. so once everyone left, we went around to the coolers and stole other people's alcohol. STOLE. it was around this time when i was turned around talking to Sam and walking, that i ran into an F-150's review mirror. down. for. the. count. Sam peed her pants laughing at me and i was rubbing my head when she cruelly snapped my picture. there i was...laying on the ground because i ran into a review mirror (not the first time...that was in yakima...age 14. and it was a motorhome review mirror...sober and therefore even worse)...see below. it wasn't until after we saw the picture that we realized i had landed in someone else's pee.

after i recovered, we realized how late the hour was. HOLY! we had to be at the JT concert in Tacoma in less than 3 hours. so we went to a blurry lunch where i had clam chowder (WTF? it was like 85 degrees out and i was sweaty) and Sam ate ribs or....you know to be honest, i truthfully cannot remember. and we drank water. water water water. tons of it. sobered up. drove to Tacoma. got "ready" in the car (i.e. me in a black skirt and sequins tube top, Sam in a silver, yes silver dress.) we were exhausted by this point and haggard messes. we got out of the car and sure enough, first female to walk by calls me a slut because of said tube top. i screamed at her something rude...and Sam and i laughed. and this is what we looked like at the concert....just so you can have an idea of how appalling life was at this point:

so obviously the only thing we could do: go into the bathroom and put airplane shots in our diet cokes. . .then it was naptime during the concert. you know, all i remember from that concert was that nicole richie was there with a nordstrom bag. public apology to KKiss for being an embarrassment on her special day.

that night we stayed with LJ. and the next morning we arose, recounted our stories, and went to breakfast. and our service was terrible. they never brought Sam's food and we waited for an hour for them to come back and fill our water glasses. they never did. so we left like 7 dollars and left. we dined and dashed! then for about 10 miles, we kept looking over our shoulders for the feds. (this is what happens to nice, law abiding small town folk when forced to do something unlawful)

on the way home:

we calculated the amount of money we spent during the entire weekend: $15 each. hahahahahahahahaah how does one survive on 15 dollars for an entire weekend? we got free food and drink all weekend. hey, if we could do that, then the homeless have nothing to complain about. all they need is a cougar t-shirt and they would be welcomed like brethren into the WSU fanbase.

we laughed and declared it "The Second Best Day Ever!"

then i reached under my car seat and found more of the booze we stole from the coolers.

the point of this blog is not (really) about glorifying my college days. more about sharing the magic that happens at a WSU outing. i still wear the purple and gold during a husky game or two, as i was born and raised a dawg. but the whisper of crimson and gray still floats by me every now and again as i remember the mystical allure that WSU and its henchmen once presented me.

thank you Sam, KKiss and friends. i will never forget the good times i had with your kind.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

an ode to JJ

it was Dee's 88th birthday yesterday. i bought her a coffee mug with a big enough "D" on it so she could distinguish it from anyone else's. her husband passed away a few years ago, and she talks about him everyday. the other day Dee and i went to lunch, and she told me, "L, you must kiss your husband everyday and tell him how much you love him."

poor JJ gets all kinds of teasing via my blog. i just can't help but write about his doofusness. but today i will list some reasons why i love the man.

1. he sings Michael Jackson in the shower.
2. he cooks.
3. his great legs! woot woot!
4. the way he looks while sleeping

5. when he opera sings normal sentences. like "pleaseeee haaand me the remooooote!"
6. his favorite comfortable outfit: white basketball shorts and an ugly old blue adidas hooded sweatshirt. no t-shirt underneath. just bare chest and the sweatshirt.
7. he has nicknames for everyone in the world.
8. when he asks me to fasten his cuff links for him.
9. he doesn't get mad at me for shopping!!!
10. his love for all things Chevy Chase
11. his fear of spiders. ha ha
12. his appreciation for a good ice cream sandwich
13. his athleticism...
14. he keeps a hockey stick next to the bed to "protect" me.
15. he always gets me flowers.
16. he lets me dress him.
17. two and a half men is his favorite show.
18. he even likes me in my 12 and under softball t-shirt
19. he loves my family.
20. most importantly: because he is my favorite person.

i love ya JJ! sorry i embarrass you and exploit your hilarious idiocracy on the worldwide web!

forever yours,

today is a day of life

it's the first day of fall and i'm proud to say that i'm wearing a dress, bright yellow shoes, and a jacket with a flower print. and i'm burping up the delicious chili cheese bread that CP made. it is a gooooood day.

i'm sad to report that i am 100% caught up on Greek (including the episode that aired last night) and i feel somewhat lost. my mother told me she's glad i'm caught up. she was beginning to worry about my obsession. however, my dear followers, i know that you too have been watching a little Greek. i mean, what girl doesn't want a little Cappie for herself??


Ann in 507 told me that i was the most beautiful person in the world. Roy in 637 was passing and replied, "youth...it's a wonderful thing." to which Ann said, "but it goes. it goes fast." now i feel sad. i am constantly reminded of how precious life really is. death is so common here, and it's heartbreaking, but it's life. my job, even when it drives me absolutely insane, has taught me so much about the importance of making each and every day count.

as a young newlywed, thinking about the end of life isn't something that would frequent one's mind. but it's important that we appreciate our loved ones every single day! even if your loved ones are a ratdog and an obese cat. but seriously, life is fleeting, don't waste (too much of) your time being frivolous. every day is a treasure.

okay, i'm totally on my period, forgive me if that was too sappy. back to my list of things for today:

buy Cleo a sweater. when she goes out to potty in the morning, her little knobby knees knock (alliteration, yes!) together, and she looks so pitiful. plus, i think a sweater might detract from the hideousness that it her haircut.

invest in his and hers electric toothbrushes.

look (not very seriously, but kind of seriously) for jazzercize class to join.

buy power cat hair remover. i'm starting to think my mom was right about the white couch and Chanel combo...

have a glass of wine.

the end.

Monday, September 21, 2009

the auto-people

you know them. you know their voices.

"please hold while i transfer your call to an available representative."

"please enter your 10-digit account number"

"to speak with a customer service representative, say 'i'd like some help'"

"i'm sorry, i didn't understand that request, please try again."

well, admit it or not, but you have had an argument with one of these voices at least once in your life. but usually you're alone.

JJ decided to have a fight with the DirecTV voice the other night. and it went something like this:

voice: "please say your 10-digit account number"
JJ: "1234567898"
voice: "i'm sorry, i didn't understand that request. please try again."
JJ: "give me a real person you dirty *&%^"
voice: "i'm sorry, i didn't understand that request. please try again."
JJ: "give me a &*#$%*@ real person NOW!"
voice: "i'm sorry, i didn't understand that request. please try again."
JJ: (screaming) "you stupid woman voice give me A REAL HUMAN %$&@*#$ PERSON NOW!"
voice: "please hold while i transfer your call."

at this point i am starting at him. i have even paused Greek. i am starting at him and he is looking at me like "what? i can totally justify my scream fight with a voice." and i just shake my head and unpause Greek.

he is so worked up over the DirecTV voice that he is rude to the actual person as well. the problem was that he bought the MLB all access package or whatever, and the Dodger game wasn't playing on the channel it was supposed to be on. the person told him that the channel didn't exist and JJ was all "I SEE IT RIGHT HERE. THE CHANNEL DOES EXIST IT'S ON MY GUIDE." so the person put him on hold. i paused Greek again and i told him he was being very rude and condescending to the poor woman on the phone when it's not really her fault.

so when the woman comes back, JJ overcompensates for his rudeness and says, "you know, i owe you an apology. my wife said i was being rude and condescending to you, and i'm really sorry."

and he ends up chatting with her like old pals.

i personally think that if they gave us real people to talk to in the first place, we wouldn't have to deal with the voice, losing patience and eventually, as JJ so graciously demonstrated, losing control of our own selves, and ending up in an all out brawl with the real human.

what do you think?

Saturday, September 19, 2009

when i'm alone

i'm hardly ever alone at night anymore since JJ. and now i can hardly believe i survived a whole year of it when i was 20.

my brain gets totally wired and crazy and i jump to conclusions, and every sound is someone trying to get me. i have to watch tv until i fall asleep because i hate the quiet. i hate not talking. when JJ is home i talk until i pass out. but when i'm alone i am so uncharacteristically quiet that it annoys me.

when i was 6 my dad told me the boogeyman story. and the part i remember from the story is when the boogeyman is hiding on the boy's car, and his hooked hand scratches the window and scares the boy. i mean, who tells a 6-year-old a story that scary?? after he told me the story i was totally spooked. and one night i was walking up the stairs and i heard a noise that sounded just like the boogeyman's hooked hand scratching the boy's car window. i screamed and ran into my parents' room and started crying. turns out it was merely my toddler sister CA walking with her hand skimming the hallway wall for balance.

but i swear, ever since that moment, whenever my mind gets to thinking about anything scary, i can't close my eyes. even in the shower. i have to be wide awake and alert at all times.

JJ is gone this weekend. and the last time he left, there was a horrid thunder and lightening storm, and so i just layed there in bed, wide open eyes, seinfeld blaring from the TV until i finally fell asleep.

last night, twasn't a storm. twas real life scary.

i was afraid i'd wake up dead (you know what i mean), all hacked up in a garbage bag because of the insanely criminal man who escaped from his mental hospital's field trip to the fair. NICE, SPOKANE. he is crazy because: the voices in his head told him to kill an elderly woman because she was a witch. he strangled her and sliced her neck. not a good way to go. so there he is on the front page yesterday, and his face is stuck in my brain. CP invited me to stay at her house last night instead of going home after babysitting, but i declined. i am a brave 230year-old. but i did follow her instructions and slept with mace by my bed. i watched Greek until i fell asleep. i didn't have any scary dreams, just normal ones like running on a cloud and shit. but at 6 am i woke up and i couldn't go back to sleep. back to the crazy man gallivanting around in my head. so i watched Greek until it was time to go to work.

and again today, the insane man made the front page news. for all i know, the insane man could be chillin with the boogeyman. either way, it gives me the heebeejeebees. i don't like to be alone.


things that are always a no.

the garlic fries at the mariner game.
coffee and/or a hotdog before a gynecological appointment.
going to a country concert sans cowboy boots and hat.
going into a bathroom after someone has had the hershey squirts in there.
a real fur jacket.
dirty feet in bed.
popping a butt zit.
christmas without a tree.
a cheese sandwich without mayonnaise.
the movie "Texas Chainsaw Massacre"
farting in target on accident when you're right next to someone.
condom machines.

and last but MOST IMPORTANTLY, this:

i am going to try and not lose my temper. but seriously. this is groomer fail number 3. and this time i did so much research. i took her to a spa. a DOG SPA for crying out loud and they turn her into this. like, is that even a dog? no. it's a white rat. i told the woman i wanted to keep her face and body fluffy and full, just to brush out the knots, and i specifically said, "please do not shave her." and i pick up my dog and she looks like this. i wanted to cry. and the woman, after she took away Cleo's only redeeming factor (her cuteness), had the audacity to tell me that her ears were in bad shape. her ears. she said i was feeding her the wrong kind of food. i feed her iams. the most expensive damn food on the market. and what the hell does food have to do with her ears?

and now my dog is unlovable again. i called JJ on the way home from the "groomer" and he said all noble like, "well i can still love her even when she's ugly." wow. let's call you mother teresa. you're so nice. i said, "wait until you see her." for the record, he grimaced noticeably.


Thursday, September 17, 2009

the thing about marrying someone you met in college

JJ and i had several mutual friends in college, and our friends got along just fine and everything was peachy keeeen.

but you know your "party friends" in college? the ones where you don't actually hang out with? like you're facebook friends...and you may share a giggle with him over your 8th glass of beer and have your arms slung around each other's shoulders, both happy to be sharing the collegiate bliss that is your life. but good God may ye not show recognition whilst sober on campus.

the party friend.

i had a few in college. great peeps. great.

the problem is: JJ is actually (STILL) true friends with one of my party friends. we'll call him Huggy. they hang out and golf quite frequently. and post-JJ, Huggy and i have become more than party friends, but there is still a "coolness" i see in him because of the party friend factor. like, whenever he saw me i was always dressed to kill in a party outfit, alcohol-induced confidence streaming from me like i was the Queen of MFing England. and whenever i saw him at parties, he was my male counterpart. tres debonair, and oozing that coolness and confidence.

i don't know about you, but as soon as i step through the door of my home after a long day of work, i rush straight to my room and pull on sweats. it's a trait i inherited from my mother. we just can't help it. if we're home, we have to be comfortable. unfortunately, my comfortable=hideous.

well, on tuesday night, Huggy decided to pop in. and there i was, laying in bed eating popcorn and watching Greek, wearing...none other than, MY 12 AND UNDER SOFTBALL TOURNAMENT SHIRT. LIKE I HAVE LITERALLY HAD THAT SHIRT SINCE I WAS 11. THAT'S OVER A DECADE PEOPLE. MORE THAN HALF MY LIFE I HAVE HAD THAT SHIRT. this is not my first offense in that shirt....and I'M SORRY BUT IT WON'T BE THE LAST. the shirt was paired with my fave summer PJ pants that are too-short and have pictures of green deer on them.

and so Huggy comes in and i widen my eyes at JJ with a terrified look on my face that reads "DON'T YOU DARE LET HIM SEE ME LIKE THIS" so the ass smiles a swanky smile and says, "hey Huggy, L's in there, say hi." and so i say, "oh please, i'm not looking my best....12 and under shirt and.....popcorn. i. uh. hi." he says hi and i sink into my bed with embarrassment, hanging my head in defeat. and i saw the look in his eye. the look that says, "you were way cooler as my party friend than you are as JJ's wife."

i mean i am a complete and utter failure...my party friend has seen my at my worst.

Monday, September 14, 2009

things in the night

Moon and i discovered a new show on hulu.com: Greek. and we are both so addicted to it. i have watched 20 episodes in a week. pah-thet-ic. it has caused me to stay up a litttttle later than usual to watch it. consequently, JJ has been falling asleep before me. and he NEVER falls asleep before me. in fact, i can't fall asleep if he's already asleep. so i get annoyed and make him wake up so i can fall asleep. it's totally selfish, i know.

last night was our first date night since our honeymoon (how lame are we?) and when we got home, we hopped into bed. JJ watched the game and i put on Greek. 9:04 pm and JJ has Garfield eyes (you know the ones? half closed on the brink of sleep). and i'm like COME ON JJ it's 9:04, wake up! and he's all EXCUUUUSE ME BUT I'M TIRED. I DON'T HAVE TO WAIT FOR YOU. so i was like FINE I'LL PAUSE GREEK BUT I'M NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT. and so we were both out cold by 9:30.

note: when JJ goes to bed that early, he always wakes up in the night and has to pee then can't get back to sleep.

last night he was so jumbled and disoriented that he was hanging out in the living room in the middle of the night. i woke up and noticed he was gone and yelled "JJ WHERE ARE YOU?!" he said, "i'm going pee" and i was like "no you're not, you're in the living room." and he said, "oh" and went to the bathroom. and since i yelled, i was awake. so i got up to pee. i sat down on the toilet and the single most ANNOYING THING IN LIFE startled me: piss.on.the.seat.now.on.my.butt. so i screamed at JJ, "HAVE YOU NO RESPECT FOR MY ASS?!" and as soon as i said it i knew it was funnier than i meant it to be. and he laughed and laughed. then i couldn't sleep because i was too hot so i got up and opened the sliding glass door. and when the sliding glass door is open in the night, JJ gets all scared and convinced of certain death via bum with knife. so he got up and shut it 2 minutes later. then Cleo and Chanel got all hyper because they thought we were up and ready to rock n' roll and i'm like OMG CAN WE PLEASE STOP THIS CIRCUS.

we finally fell asleep somewhere around 3 am.

then i dreamt of tigers writing resumes. wtf?

Sunday, September 13, 2009

pretty nice little saturday.

today is sunday. and i have nothing better to do than sniff sharpie markers, which, i learned in 7th grade health class are "inhalants" and could cause severe brain damage. each working day that passes seems to get more boring than the last. i just try to think back to a time when facebook was still an accessible website at work. SIGH. that's what i need. a job at facebook. i bet facebook and co. doesn't block facebook from their employee computers.

yesterday Rah and i took an afternoon off from our significant others and dogs, who we left in front of a big screen TV watching football. SEE YA LATER. we went shopping, and miraculously found a rack on which everything hanging from it was....this is real....$1.97!

then we saw this little pet store that had dog halloween costumes in the window, so we stopped in. i looked to the left and saw a sign advertising pot bellied pigs, and when i turned to look at Rah, something caught my eye and i said, "is that..??" "yes, she said. that is a squirrel in a cage for sale." obviously we GTFOOT. nothing, not even a clever marketing quip could get me to buy a pot bellied pig or a squirrel.

then we stopped into this place called "Uncle's Gaming" because Rah wanted to buy Taboo, and i phase10 (ha ha ha JJ). when we walked in, there was literally a nerd/creepy/not a chance in hell they have wives or girlfriends convention going on. a tournament of sorts, with pokemon/digimon/douchemon cards. we stopped and we stared. like, was this really happening? on a saturday afternoon, this is really what these people do? i mean, the loves of our lives were at home vegetating on the couch watching beefed up college men toss around the pigskin, but come on, that's a given man right. playing "cards" with fictional characters printed on them just isn't acceptable. i can imagine what the rooms of these "men" look like; filled with model airplanes, robots, posters of Spock...and probably one of the squirrels we saw earlier. i felt sad for them. i wanted to help them to get a life. they were so engrossed in their ridiculous game that they didn't even notice two hot women were staring at them (i.e. me and Rah). we finally left, but i couldn't help thinking that by the grace of God i could be in their position. i said a quick prayer, thanking the Lord for making my interests farts, facebook and $1.97 racks.

Saturday, September 12, 2009


today marks the one year anniversary for my employment at Rockwood. and i haven't gone (that) crazy.

one year and i have not progressed from my position as receptionist extraordinaire. the only thing i have progressed is this blog.

so thank you Rockwood...for the blog gem stories like these:

just this morning Mr. Goldsworthy in 718 came to my desk and said, "i want to sign up for the fair!" and i said, "sure, here's the sign-up sheet." after he was finished i said, "oh, you only signed yourself up, what about your wife?" he said, "i'm planning on meeting Britney Spears, i don't want my wife to come."

karma has slighted me again

so remember that blog about my good friend Thais? well, as luck would have it, the ol crabby patty got a speeding ticket. i felt that karma served her well. and this is the e-mail she felt the need to write to her coworkers here at the retirement community:

"Watch out for speed traps on Ray St., especially coming up hill, as the guys on motorcycles are handing out tickets, big time. If you go 10 miles over the limit, it will cost you $143.00. Funny, I had just come from Lowe’s and saw 2 street gals working & I wondered why they weren’t there & instead they were stopping me. I got a ticket. Boo Hoo!"

so she literally sent an e-mail to the entire staff alluding to hookers.

in spite of myself i was like "ha ha" and i even told my mom how karma finally got Thais.

what happens next my friends?


damn you, karma.

this ain't my first rodeo. speeding tickets are as much a part of me as my own anus. i think that was #7 in all the years i have been driving. i am much like my boy Jay-Z in his song "99 problems" specifally this part:

The year's '94 and my trunk is raw
In my rear view mirror is the mother fuckin' law
I got two choices y'all pull over the car or (hmmm)
Bounce on the double put the pedal to the floor
Now I ain't tryin' to see no highway chase with Jay.
Plus i got a few dollars i can fight the case
So I...pull over to the side of the road
I heard "Son do you know why I'm stoppin' you for?"
Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hats real low?
Do I look like a mind reader sir, I don't know

doesn't that just sound like my life?? no??

note to self: ask Sam's cop boyfriend what sort of things i can do to avoid ticketage. because obviously being hot doesn't work.

i called my parentals and told them. my dad/insurance agent advised me to try and get the ticket erased from my record, as my car insurance would skyrocket otherwise. so i signed up for "Traffic School"

i had to go back to the place i hated most in the world. a place where i was punished for my underage collegiate crimes. (i.e. collegiate mip...ps doesn't everything in life sound better with the word "collegiate" written in front of it? collegiate mathematics, collegiate beer pong league, collegiate social hour. you get the idea) anyway.....i had to go to THE COURTHOUSE.

and i hate that place. it makes my skin crawl. and i get so uncomfortable with all the freaks/criminals around that place that i get fidgety. and the incompetence at government institutions, i have said it before. the first lady directed me to window 9. i waited in line. the window 9 lady said "oh, sorry, you need to go to window 2." the window 2 lady said, "oops, you need to go to window 7." window 7 lady wrote some useless bs on a piece of paper and directed me to the sheriff's window. i mean honestly, if anyone knew anything about the law in this building, i could have been done in 5 minutes. but instead i had to be in that horrible building for 25 minutes. and i was so frusted i started muttering dirty words under my breath, thus reducing me to the kind of person that frequents the courthouse.

i am signed up for Traffic School. a 6 hour class where you watch videos on how to drive. i may learn a thing or two, we all know i'm not the best behind the wheel. but i hope i do not contract "courthouse crazy" while i'm at it.

tune in for more after the class is completed.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

undomestic goddess

things i can do quite well:

1. tie my shoes
2. ride a bike
3. eat 4 ice cream sandwiches in one sitting
4. smile and greet old people all day
5. scream really really loud
6. find a good bargain
7. wipe my own ass
8. wipe baby P's ass
9. read
10. put together an outfit
11. facebook
12. be funny
13. love JJ
14. drink wine

things i cannot do:

1. drive
2. play any kind of sport
3. ride a skateboard
4. shop at goodwill
5. be domestic
6. cat's cradle
7. watch someone else brush their teeth
8. drink whisky
9. play videogames
10. poop with the door closed
11. math
12. enjoy scary movies
13. take showers frequently
14. COOK

i cannot cook worth a god damn. seriously. my good friend and boss CPG is such a dear. she is an absolutely amazing cook, and the leftovers in her fridge are the best i've ever tasted. she wanted to teach me how to cook, so she did. enchiladas. and when i made them with her, they were delicious.


tonight i wanted to surprise JJ by making him the delicious enchiladas. (he had a bad day, starting with his new D&G cologne shattering into the sink). i even got a litttttle ahead of myself and texted him "i have a huge surprise for you" and got him all riled up.

then i carefully followed the recipe directions for the enchilada sauce....everything looked good.

then i taste tested and......... WHKJHTIUAJH WHAT THE HELL DID I PUT INTO MY MOUTH?! it tasted like burnt rubber and weeds. i reread the directions, and i did everything right! i wondered if i had been too hard on myself and tasted it again then spit it out. still rubber and weeds.

so i cried. and i called JJ and told him the "surprise" and he said "it's ok, you're a good wife, you don't need to cook" and i said "no i'm a crap wife who can't do anything but fail." and he told me stop being ridiculous and that he would bring home something to fix the enchiladas.

canned enchilada sauce....hey, ya win some, ya lose some.

Monday, September 7, 2009

i am laboring day


"Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic ahievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country."

"It is called Labor Day, but most of the country will not be laboring. It is a day to celebrate working by resting."

dear readers:

GUESS WHERE I AM!?!!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!!? CAN YOU GUESS!?!?!?!?!!?eJFDFD


at work.

love, L.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

cat/dog/husband repercussions

there are repercussions in every relationship. things you must learn to deal with. for instance: the coffee grinds on the kitchen counter EVERY morning. akjersseahrarhhhggg!!!!!

ol Chanel has gotten real grumpy. the poor thing is just lazy and fat and irritated. and Cleo just absolutely loves her. she just wants to play. and i feel like i have to save Chanel from the dog's annoying-ness, but then i capture a moment like the one above, and i think, "ohawww look at the sisters!" Chanel has just GOT to love Cleo even though she roots around in her litterbox, eats her food and pounces on her tail. and JJ and i think she quite likes it when Cleo licks her ears. she starts purring and looks slightly agitated but she has a certain glint of pleasure in her eyes.

Cleo is always getting all the attention, so i try to give ol Nel a little extra love. but yesteday while i was giving her the love, she threw up. in our room. i screamed to JJ, "COME QUICK! NOW!" and he came running in and said, "what?! WHAT?! what is the matter?!" and i said, "Chanel just threw up...can you clean it up?" and he said, "where? i don't see it?" and i said, "...oops, looks like you're stepping in it."

but really we hardly even bat an eyelash these days when something spills on the carpet. we know that after we move out of our dear and beloved MH, they will take our entire deposit and rip up and replace the carpet. there is no way all of the puppy/cat/JJ stains will ever come out. Rah and Nebular let us borrow their special carpet cleaning machine, and it didn't even faze our crap carpet. we have become a wonderful team when cleaning up the stains. nowadays when we see a dog tinkle spot, or cat barf or if the lid to a fry sauce falls wet side up on the carpet, one of us lazily scoops up the mess, and the other grabs the spot shot. all of this is done in less than 3 minutes and is sychronized and in silence.

and when we have guests i scrub the litterbox until it's clean enough to eat from...actually not. that's disgusting...but i clean it realllllly well. and we put extra glade plug-ins with names like "dewey meadow" and "clean laundry" around the house, and buy fresh flowers so it's nice and pleasant. (you're welcome, guests of mine).

animals (JJ included) leave stains. and they're smelly. that is part of the package. but it's all worth it when i see those little faces one of top of the other, posing perfectly like a coupla cheerleaders for the camera. they are our little lovies.

The Dutch Oven

of all the things my dad taught me, The Dutch Oven is the most useful.

these past few days i don't know what my deal is. my stomach is struggling. like realllly struggling. like take 2 tums every 2 hours struggling.

on thursday night at 9/8 central, i was watching project runway and JJ was just snuggling into bed, exhausted and ready for his full 8 hours. just as heidi was reciting the task to the designers, i noticed a rumble in my tummy. i glanced over at JJ and his eyes were closed. he looked so peaceful, right on the cusp of falling into a deep sleep...it was basically an invitation. so i did it. i gave him the ol Dutcherooski. i waited until the hot fart was fully released from my pants and trapped it under the covers. the key to a good Dutch Oven is to make it really hot. like realllly hot. you gotta keep the fart under the covers and in the heat until it is perfectly ripe.

so i waited until the time was right, then i casually "ruffled the covers" and let the gas speak for itself. i turned my attention back to the show and waited...yes...1...2...3...4...


he jumped out of bed and shouted this at me and stamped his foot. of course i was laughing the entire time. just big, joyous, gut-wrentching laughs as JJ is screaming.

i said i'm sorry, and convinced him to get back into bed and fall asleep. i even rubbed his back like a nice wife.

then i felt it. another rumble. quite possibly bigger and better than the last. i knew i was going to get myself in trouble, but....i did it anyway. i D.O.'ed him again.

this time, whilst shouting, (this time he screamed that he'd rather put his head in Chanel's litterbox than endure another one of my D.O.s) he jumped out of bed and opened all the windows and doors in the house (a little dramatic) and grabbed his pillow to sleep on the couch.

i had to coo and apologize and pretend like that D.O. wasn't funny even though it was the best one i've ever had.

he settled in nicely and finally fell asleep.

tummy rumble. this time i knew better. i kept it trapped and lifted my feet at the end of the bed to let the fart out away from JJ. nevertheless, it traveled upward and onward, filling the room with the single most appalling stench i have ever sniffed. i bit my lip and kept my eyes on JJ, frightened.

he scrunched his nose in his sleep...and that was it. PHEW. safe.

the next morning JJ got up to get ready for work. he kissed me goodbye and headed out the door, but before he left he said, "oh and L?" ..."yes darling?" i said..."i smelled that last fart."

everything i learned...i learned from playing cards.

one of my favorite pastimes ever in life is cards. we used to go camping every labor day with the aunts, uncles and cousins. and it seemed every year something dramatic happened: one year i got the stomach flu and threw up licorice and macoroni and cheese in our tent, one year my then 14-year-old cousin BCG got caught with playboy magazines in his sleeping bag, i forgot underwear one year, there was the year my dad fell off the jetski fully clothed in the rain, that one time when i lost my shoes in the lake, etc. etc. etc.

every year was different, and we no longer make the trip anymore (sad. it was the only camping i ever liked: a neverending supply of poptarts and a 16 person tent with all the cousins). but one thing that was a constant in our labor day American camping holiday: card playing. we would play c.a.m.p.s. the four of us: sister M and cousins BCG and BMG (me and BCG were always partners and our sign was to eat a peanut m&m each time we had all 4 cards...only problem was we would forget that was our sign and eat the m&ms anyway and consequently lose). and we would team up and play nertz for hours. HOURS. cards were just a necessity to the trip.

about a year ago today...i was jobless, JJ and i had just moved into our MH and we had no cable. i ended up watching the entirety of the sex and the city saga in the first week of unemployment. just put in disc after disc into my laptop. but at night when JJ would get home, we'd eat dinner and want to relax and hang out, and we wouldn't have the soothing voice of frasier or seinfeld to comfort us. so one night i suggested cards. it went like this:

L: "i'm bored. let's play cards."
JJ: "what? cards? who even plays cards? you hick."
L: "are you kidding me? cards are the greatest pastime ever in life."
JJ: (laughs cruelly) "cards? you cannot be serious L, cards are sooo country."
L: "cards are not country, they are fun. normal people play cards." (how could i marry someone who doesn't like playing cards? SERIOUSLY)
JJ: "i'm not playing cards L, sorry."
JJ: "ok i'm reallllly bored...fine, let's play cards."
L: "OK OK OK OK GOODIES!! what do you want to play? nertz?"
JJ: "what the hell is nertz?"
L: "OMG!"

so i taught him how to play nertz. and he sucks. like he is the worst card player i have ever seen. he holds his cards all jumbled, and he's as slow as a sloth, and he is one of those people who celebrates everytime he makes a move. needless to say, i beat him every game. i even snuck like 10 extra cards in my nertz pile and i still kicked his ass. he wasn't even a challenge.

he got annoyed quickly after each time i beat him without any trouble, and then he just quit playing. after like 30 minutes. WHO QUITS CARD PLAYING AFTER 30 MINUTES!? you at LEAST play for like an hour and a half.

i ended up giving up on cards and JJ and bought operation (which i also kicked his ass in) and puzzles (which i ended up doing myself).

just the other day, i had the phase10 urge. i was like, "will you play phase10 with me pleaseee please pretty please?"

"what's phase 10?" he said.

the bottom line: if you are a card player, THINK before you marry a non-card player. your life will always be difficult. like just when you think you've got your king of hearts, he turns into a worthless card like the 2 of diamonds or something.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

bad hair day?

i am sitting at my desk and along comes Dorthea in 444.

she said, "hello there, dear, my phone seems to be on the fritz, could you call maintenance and have them fix it?"

i said, "sure, Dorthea no problem."

she said, "well i can tell you're not feeling well today, are you? so it's no rush."

WTF? i feel fine. so i stand up and look in the mirror. my makeup looks good, clothes look good....WHAT THE HELL?! I LOOK GOOD.

then a maintenance guy walks by and he literally said to me, "what? didn't feel like doing your hair today?" (imbecile)

i looked at myself again. I LIKE MY HAIR TODAY. it's the bedhead look today. ghod people, get with it.

YOU DECIDE: is it that bad? (fun fact: pic was taken in library where i have my lonely lunch everyday)


it is almost the anniversary of my first day of work here at the retirement community (!!!!!), after the one year mark my job can finally be resume-impressing material...right? i was surprised to find that i have yet to write about Thais. Thais. Thais. Thais. i can't even use a code name for her because her real name does her so much justice already. i haven't written about her yet because in order to describe her, i have to be fully attentive to the task at hand, as she is a complex being of remarkable antics. REMARKABLE.

Thais is an old woman. she is extremely tall and has white hair and wears a hearing aid. she is from California and never lets you forget how much she hates it in Spokane. she claims to have been friends with a Hollywood starlet in the late 40's, though she won't name who, and supposedly he called her "Legs."

however, despite what you may be thinking, she is not a resident. she is a fellow receptionist. she is exremely pompous and unbelievably rude. if i say something to her, she looks at me right in the eye and deliberately interrupts me with one of her ridiculous afterthoughts or self-obsessed comments. now i'm not dissing self-obsessors, as i am one of them, but this woman is absolutely absurd and unreasonable.

on my first day of training the girl who worked before me warned me about Thais. she said, "she is nice...but she's so, ...she just....just wait, you'll see." and the first time i saw Thais i was like "oh, what? she's like an old lady, like one of the residents, she can't be that bad."


Thais is infuriating. absolutely infuriating. she simply doesn't listen. she's like a 2-year-old. and when a resident comes to the desk and asks her a question, she cuts them off in the middle and talks about a random fact of her life. example: Marie in 620 wanted to buy some stamps, and asked Thais, "i would like to order a book of st---" Thais cut in, "did you see the flowers i brought in today? see them here on the desk?" Marie said, "oh yes, those are lovely, may i buy a book of---" Thais interrupts again, "they're from my garden, you know." i saw this happen as i was walking back from my lunch break so i shoo-shooed Thais out of the effing way and helped Marie myself.

last tuesday at 1:30, Thais was supposed to relieve me because my shift was over. 1:40 rolls around, i call Thais at her home number, no answer. it's 1:42 and i'm supposed to be at my other job at 1:45. THAIS DOESN'T EVER SHOW UP so my boss comes out and takes over the desk while i rush out.

whilst speeding to my next engagement, i called my mom to complain. "MOM I CAN'T HANDLE THAIS SHE IS SEROIUSLY SO ANNOYING!!!!!" and i explained the story. my mom said, "oh, L, you never know, she might be home dead." COME ON MOM CAN'T YOU JUST LET ME BE MAD AND COMPLAIN?!

this morning i came into work and the printer is broken. the top is off, wet ink is leaking along the interior and a there is a piece of plastic sticking out of the machine. basically it just looks seriously out of order.

at 9:30 when Thais came to relieve me for a break, i said, "Thais, the printer is broken, hopefully the repairman can come in on Mond--" cut off by Thais, "what's wrong with the printer?" so i heavily sigh and repeat myself and she cuts me off AGAIN AND SAYS, "well are you sure it doesn't just need a new ink cartridge?" OHMYGOD. "no, Thais. it is really broken, it needs to be fixe--" Thais interrupts, "are you sure? because it looks to me like it needs new ink. and i locked my keys in my garden shed this morning." i just walk away slowly before my head falls off and say, "that's too bad. and no, the printer is really really really really broken." (note: changing the ink cartridge in the printer is about the only thing Thais knows about computers.)

i texted my mom on my break, "Thais defnitely not dead."

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

doggie poo bag saves the day

i hate to exercise. i mean hate. like i probably wouldn't start exercising until i gained so much weight my clothes no longer fit. (knock on wood por favor) but lately (since i have been working so much), i feel bad that Cleo has to be locked up in the house all day. so JJ and i have been taking her for little nightly jaunts.

we go to a suburban neighborhood about 2 miles from our house and walk her around "over 5 miles of paved walking trails!" and they even have little stations with doggie poo bags. it's great! we walk for about 40 minutes and she absolutely loves it. yesterday we started our walk in a new place, off the doggie poo bag providing path. and i said "JJ we need a doggie poo bag," and JJ said, "oh stop it, no we don't." then i remembered: i had a leftover doggie poo bag in the cupholder of my car from last time, so i went back and grabbed it. JJ was like "we don't need it, it's fine! hurry up! come on!" but i ignored him and still got the doggie poo bag, then we were on our way.

not long into our walk a young boy on a bike with training wheels saw us and said "hi puppy wuppy can i pet you?" and so we let him pet Cleo. then it happened so fast, we hardly knew what was happeneing...

Cleo walked onto the nearest lawn and was sniffing avidly. then it was the turn around in 3 circles move, then it was the crimped tail straining in the air, and placement of the feet, and release...

and the young boy wails, "oh no doggie, do not poopoo in our lawn!" and he gets all weepy-like. and i'm all KID CALM DOWN IT'S JUST A LITTLE SHIT ON GRASS. then the boy says "papa! papa! the doggie is poopooing on our lawn!" and "papa," a typical dad in typical dad gear, i.e. yellow "Livestrong" t-shirt tucked into khaki cargo shorts with a black belt and teeva sandals, comes riding on HIS bike (complete with baby in the attached seat on the back) and he is silent and staring at me. JJ gets all weird and awkward and says, "get your dog, L" (WHY IS SHE ALWAYS "MY DOG" IN SITUATIONS SUCH AS THESE?) so i say to the young boy, "oh now now, it's ok little one, lookie what i have?" and i pull out the magic doggie poo bag and scoop up the incriminating pile. (and of course it's a little runny this time and makes a stain in the grass) "you see? it's all gone now, we'll see ya later!" and papa continues to kill us with his silent stare as we GTFOOT.

when we are safely out of papa and young boy's earshot, i say, "well.........???" and JJ says, "WHAT?!" and i sad, "aren't you going to thank me for bringing the doggie poo bag along? we would have totally been screwed without it." he said, "schmmmmfph." i smiled triumphantly.
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