Monday, November 30, 2009

OMFG

UPDATE: 12/1/09: so at 2 pm on the dot yesterday, i called Paul Turner's voicemail and did my Party Trick for him. the first email i got this morning was:

I AM impressed. Well done. Thanks.
Paul

P.S. Hope married life is off to a good start, and that you'll enjoy your first Christmas as a certified couple.

WHY DID HE HAVE TO BRING MY MARRIAGE INTO THIS?!?!?!?!


so remember my Party Trick post? well obviously you do. because it is quite possibly the best one. well do you also remember my mild obsession with The Slice writer fron the Spokesman-Review Paul Turner? he was the one who printed the little blurb about my super-tight, super-enormous underwear that i wore for my wedding. anyway, i was thinking about my Party Tick, and how, even though most of you do not agree, it is the COOLEST THING EVER IN LIFE. i sent an email to Paul which sparked a friendly banter (flirtation) between us. it went as follows:

ME:
Maybe you have already asked this…but since it’s the Holidays and we all have lots of parties to attend; I would love to know what kinds of Party Tricks my fellow Spokanites have under their sleeves. For instance, I have a friend who can do the splits, another who can perfectly deliver every word in the song “Ice Ice Baby” and mine is that I can recite The Lord’s Prayer in the Old English language, a la Beowulf.

Do you have a Party Trick Paul?

PAUL:
This is an excellent theme, L. Thank you.
(Please send me your daytime phone number -- just for my records.)

Paul

P.S. I am about to head out. But I wonder if you would be willing to call my number some time this afternoon or tonight and give me a sampling of your trick. I'm curious and would love to hear just a little. Thanks in advance. 459-5470

DO YOU SEE THAT PEEPS? PAUL TURNER ASKED FOR MY PHONE NUMBER! EEEEEE! AND THEN HE ASKED ME TO CALL HIM! OMFG OMFG OMFG OMFG

ME:
SWEET. I’ll leave you a message in about an hour. Have a great day! You’ll be seriously impressed with my skillz.

SO, Dear Asshole Readers Who Doubted My Talents, i will be calling Paul Turner at 2 pm on the dot this afternoon and i will be leaving him a message filled with Old English Cheer. at least SOMEONE will appreciate my talent.

The Real Thing That Matters In Life

"the bride, a graduate from Gonzaga University, is a receptionist at RW Retirement Community and also a babysitter..."

that's what was printed in the spokesman review on Sunday, November 29, 2009. i mean really? a college graduate who is a receptionist and also a babysitter?!?! i lose. the harsh reality of that statement staring back at me in black and white print was almost too much to bear. so i tucked the announcement away in my purse.

since then i have literally gotten 17 copies of the damn newspaper. from my dear residents. and apparently being able to rock the babysitter/receptionist combo is not a bad thing. because the only thing any of the ladies want to talk about is JJ. "wow, i didn't know your husband was such a good looking fellow!" WTF?! SERIOUSLY?! WHAT, DID YA'LL THINK I WAS MARRIED TO A GOD DAMN TROLL?! OF COURSE MY HUSBAND IS A GOOD LOOKING FELLOW. CHRIST.

so i guess that's it then. i have a shitty career path but as long as i have a good looking husband, i'm basically set for life. i guess Hot JJ is what really matters.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Christmas Cheer

as i have said before, i am not tech-savvy. but when everyone got an ipod, i needed one too. honestly, i haven't used it in over a year. i don't run, and i'm not particularly a music person anyway, so it sits in my car all year round. UNTIL I HAD THE MOST BRILLIANT IDEA EVER.

work doesn't give us speakers with the computer, otherwise i would catch up on my Glee episodes and watch movies, obviously. so i bought a mini pink ipod speaker that matched my pink ipod for $6.99 at TJ Maxx. then i uploaded all of my Christmas CDs onto my ipod. then i brought the ipod and the speaker into work. and NOW I HAVE MY VERY OWN CHRISTMAS CONCERT RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE!!! it's so cool. and all the oldies think it's marvelous. they don't know what ipods are or how they work, so all they see is a hot pink thing playing some Christmas Yules. i tell you, i love to bring the WOW FACTOR to them.

so i decided to play a little Aly and A.J. Acoustic Hearts of Winter, and Dorthea in 444 comes up to my desk looking miserable. i asked her what was wrong and she scrunched up her face and told me to turn off the racquet because she's constipated and needs prune juice.

SO MUCH FOR SPREADING THE CHRISTMAS CHEER TO THE RETIREMENT COMMUNITY.

The Disappearing Act

JJ had to leave my parents' house Thanksgiving night, after Catchphrase, Apples to Apples, Balderdash and Spoons because he had to work early Friday morning. he left at 9:15 pm. i went to bed at 11, and he didn't call me when he got home, so basically i didn't know if he got home. all i got was a 10:30 pm text that read, "that pecan pie was killer." typical JJ comment.

i woke up at 6:30 am on Friday and made my parents get up and hang out with me. i called JJ at 8. no answer. 8:15. no answer. 9. no answer. so i called his work phone. it was turned off. 9:15. no answer from both phones! i couldn't believe it. he gets to work a half an hour early at 8:30 am EVERY SINGLE DAY. where could he be? i thought he may have gotten in an accident. i kept calling. again and again. my sisters and i decided to go to TJ Maxx for Black Friday at about 11, and i still hadn't heard from JJ. so i called the main phone line at his work and asked if he was there. he wasn't. i told his coworkers that i hadn't heard from him since he left to go home the night before. then i met KKiss and her mom at TJ to get my 4-month-late bday present from KKiss and Sam. (thanks, guys! better late than never!) then i called Rah and Nebular who are both in Seattle, and told them i hadn't heard from JJ, and they gave me the number of Nebular's brother who lives at their house. i called him 8 times in a row until he woke up and frantically begged him to go to our house to see if my husband was alive. he obliged and told me he'd call me back. then, as i apologized to KKiss and her mom for making 37 phone calls while they were standing there, who decides to give me a ring, but The King JJ Himself. he sleepily said, "i had 24 missed calls, what's up?"

"WHAT'S UP!!?!!?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?! IT'S 11:30 YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE AT WORK AT 9. I THOUGHT YOU WERE BADLY MANGLED TO THE POINT WHERE YOU WERE UNIDENTIFIABLE A LA GREY'S ANATOMY IN A HOSPITAL SOMEWHERE! I JUST SENT NEBULAR'S BROTHER TO OUR HOUSE TO SEE IF YOU WERE THERE!!! WHAT IS YOUR EXCUSE??!?!!?"

he said lazily, "oh come on L, calm down. i traded work shifts with my coworker. i don't have to be there until 1."

"CALM DOWN?!!??! NO I WILL NOT. YOU WERE MIA. I THOUGHT TERRIBLE THINGS."

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH EVERYONE?!?!?! I DECIDE TO SLEEP IN FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 2 YEARS AND EVERYONE THINKS I'M DEAD!?!?!?!?"

apparently all of his coworkers tried to get a hold of him after i called and freaked them out. plus Rah and Nebular and his brother were panicked, plus KKiss and her mom, plus TJ Maxx parking lot, plus my sisters....i mean, it was a god damn circus!

and The King was sleeping on the couch. turns out my parents made him an entire thermos of coffee for the drive home. he drank it all and was up until 4:30 in the morning watching the National Geographic channel. so he begged his coworker to trade shifts with him so he could sleep late. and his phone was on vibrate, so he couldn't hear any of us calling him. and when he finally got to work, all of his coworkers rushed over to him and said, "CALL YOUR WIFE!"

he said i was a tad bit dramatic. but i think i was being a good wife, while he was being a wreckless bear in a cave, pulling a disappearing act better than the Ringling Brothers, sleeping in until 11:30 like that.

sick=doughnuts

since i told JJ that neither of us were getting flu/swine flu shots this season, we have been on Emergen-C like a bum on crack. we are doing pretty well, aside from little colds. last week JJ had one. he would sit up in the middle of the night and blow a bazooka horn in my ear, aka blow his nose. because he would startle me in an unpleasant way circa 3 a.m. each night, i in return, would charge him one doughnut in the morning for ruining my sleep.

well, on Thanksgiving, JJ gave me the cold. (by the way...i am thankful for my family, friends, wonderful husband, blog readers and for stretch pants) and since we were at my parents' house, i naturally left used tissues all over. my secret spot was inside a blue vase in the living room. my dad found the stash as i was driving back to Spoke and he called to reprimand me. hahahhaah. and a hilarious moment occured between me and my Uncle M. it was one of those moments that is rare but so perfect that you'd think it was coreographed. as Uncle M was reaching his arm up to put it around my aunt's shoulder, his right index and middle fingers collided with my face and he unmeaningly swiped the two fingers right under my dripping nose, catching a nice strip of green snot. he screamed like a girl and ran to the bathroom. i laughed.

anyway, since i was sick, i made my dad come with my to the grocery store to buy doughnuts. delish.

then this morning i woke up and was exxxtra nice to JJ and asked him in such a sweet voice, "darling hubby of mine, will you go to the store and get me a doughnut?" and he did! i love him.

i'm wondering if there is really a connection between sickness and doughnuts or if i'm really just being a fatass.

Career Quiz

in 8th grade, the year 2000, one of the required classes to take in school was called "Careers." we had to search the paper for a real job, pretend to get the job, then pretend-plan our entire life (i.e. find a place to live, have pets, go grocery shopping, find a husband/roommate etc.) we also took a Career Quiz. this was a quiz i will never forget. it asked a hundred questions about what i liked to do and what kind of things interested me. at the end, it makes suggestions on what career path one should take. the dorky boy next to me got "you should be a model! you like to be in the spotlight and love traveling." do you know what mine said? the thing told me i should be a hearse driver. A HEARSE DRIVER. perky, hyper, happy me, as a hearse driver. i mean is that even real? i remember staring at the computer screen like wtf? i am never doing that job. ever. EVER. and Dork Model Kid was all gloaty and shit like "ooh, that sucks, i got model. ha ha ha." i was like DORK KID YOU WILL NEVER IN YOUR LIFE BE A MODEL WITH THAT BONE STRUCTURE. turns out like everyone got Model. a few got professional sports player or doctor or vet. but i was definitely the only hearse driver.

i remember being mildly upset and bothered by the Hearse Driver answer. i kept trying to figure out which question i answered wrong. but i just couldn't figure out why the Career Quiz would plan out such a dismal fate for me. i have pushed that experience to the back of mine and can now laugh about it, but it still gets me. honestly, WHY WOULD IT EVER BE SUGGESTED THAT I BE A HURST DRIVER?! why?

flash forward to November 28, 2009. i am not a hearse driver, nor will i ever be. but i work in a retirement community. it dawned on me last night that maybe the Career Quiz wasn't so far off. i mean, i don't drive dead bodies, but i am surrounded by the elderly, many of whom are in the sunset of their lives, some of whom have passed away. i am able to be compassionate to the families who lose their loved ones, and i am surrounded by the harsh reality of the circle of life on a weekly basis. i am not a hearse driver, but i am a Receptionist Extraordinaire at a Retirement Community. close enough...right?

*disclaimer: Receptionist Extraordinaire at a Retirement Community is not my career. just my current source of income. my new plan is to get my master's degree in teaching within the next few years.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

aging

i needed black hoisery this morning for my outfit. i have 78 pairs of black opaque tights, but not barely black ones, you know? so i used the only thing i have, ultra-sexy Victoria's Secret thigh high stockings with a lace band. i felt quite like a movie star going into work today, until one of the stockings started falling down. i looked like the Maxine comic strip--only slightly sexier because of THE LACE BAND. i was cursing myself while walking into work, yanking up the stocking. i just knew the lace was sticking out of the bottom of my pencil skirt, so i looked a tad bit like a slut.

so i have to deal with one saggy stocking all day. every single time i stand up, it begins to descend slowly and immorally down my left leg.

just when i think the stocking problem makes me feel like a geriatric, Roy in 637 walks up to my desk and confirms my fears saying, "i didn't think that was you for a second. the new lights make your hair look gray."

how much longer til i look like this?!?!?! two...maybe three years if i'm lucky.



UPDATE: i found a solution that only mildly cuts off my blood circulation: put a rubber band around my upper thigh.

Monday, November 23, 2009

The Buffer Seat

JJ and i have an annoyance for anyone who doesn't respect "The Buffer Seat" rule. for instance. in the airport. waiting in your terminal. you never sit in the seat directly next to someone. you leave AT LEAST one seat between you. it's common courtesy.

JJ says the same rule applies to the men's room. buffer urinal. he claims it's just plain weird when a guy walks up to the urinal right next to you. personally i don't understand why men don't have personal stalls like women. they just walk up to the urinal and whip out their ding dongs like it's no big deal. so why would the buffer urinal rule apply if everyone's ding dong is already out and about? everyone sees everyone else's, even WITH the buffer urinal. soooo i don't really agree with JJ on that one.

but we both agree on "The Buffer Seat" rule in the movie theater. the only exception to the rule is if it's a blockbuster on opening weekend. like when JJ and i went to see New Moon. we allowed the buffer seat rule to be broken for a family of 6 who needed the seats next to me. HOWEVER, we did not think it was acceptable for the couple who walked in 7 minutes late to occupy the buffer seat next to JJ.

do you respect the rule? or are you a buffer seat occupyer?

The Fast

my sister CA is quite the little activist. currently she is trying to bring awareness to world hunger. so she asked her dear family members to partake in a 24-hour fast, to get a taste of what life is like for those who are truly starving.
for those of you who were at the rehearsal of my wedding, you saw a perfect example of what happens when i don't eat every 2 hours. i am as grumpy as an irritated porcupine. srsly. (thanks sister-in-law E for giving me those skittles!)

at first i told CA NO WAY. then this morning when i was talking to my mom on the phone she was like "yeah, i'm totally doing it. so is your sister M....so is your Dad." i was all "MOM WTF? DAD IS DOING IT?! YOU CANNOT BE SEROIUS. I MEAN YOU AND M ARE HARD CORE, BUT IF DAD CAN DO IT I CAN DO IT. THAT'S IT, I'M DOING IT. SO IS JJ." except that i forgot that i am enduring a mean hangover from that bottle and a half of wine i shared with Rah last night. rats!

today i will do something new and different. i will keep an online diary of The Fast. the last time we ate was 7 pm last night after JJ and i saw New Moon (JJ is Team Jacob because, direct quote, "i like to root for the rebel." but i think it's because he likes the way Jacob looks with his shirt off. obviously i am Team Edward. 4evr) anyway, i will update the diary throughout the day. keep tabs!

and if you do decide to partake in the 24-hour fast, let me know so i can tell my sister how many peeps i recruited through my blog. the rules are: no eating, but can drink anything. except like a milkshake or a smoothie.

6 pm yesterday: jalepeno bagel and cream cheese, butternut squash soup.
7 pm yesterday: 4 almond kisses.
7-10 pm: 3/4 bottle of wine.
3 am: entire water bottle.

today
6:30 am: swig of soy milk out of the carton.
7:10 am: glass of emergen-C
7:30 am: peppermint latte JJ made me this morning. Poop Nazi told me i "look like a tree" this morning. thanks.
8:59 am: GIANT DUMP. cripes. that was last of the solid nutrition left in me.
9:20 am: not so bad. not so bad!!!
10:04 am: all i ever wanted in life was an egg mcmuffin.
10:15 am: Dee in 712 came to my desk. told her of The Fast. she gave me a dreadful look and said it was not a healthy thing to do. i assured her i would be ok.
10:55 am: have to speak loudly over the lion growl coming from my stomach.
10:59 am: text from JJ "i failed." my reply? "you're an asshole."
11:05 am: text from JJ "well, i stopped eating when i realized." me: "wait a minute, you seriously forgot you were supposed to be fasting? hahahahahahah"
11:25 am: a coworker just came by my desk and literally said to me, "excited for lunch today?" i said, "NO I'M FASTINGGGGGG" he said "shall i walk by your desk with a foot-long subway sandwich then?" i kindly asked him to leave.
11:30 am: "lunch" break. shaking hands. i tell the fat receptionist who probably just ate a rack of ribs before she came to my desk, relieves me for lunch. she asks why i don't look so good. i tell her about The Fast. as i grab my purse to leave she literally says to me, "have a nice lunch!" in a cheery voice. momentarily think of cutting off her head with a letter opener.
11:34 am: think about all the starving people in the world. what DO they eat when they are on the brink of hunger insanity? dirt? tree bark? like can i just shove a handful of gravel down my throat to fill my stomach?
11:45 am: go into safeway. buy one bottle of pelligrino and a bottle of snapple. oh, we need bread. grab some bread. OMG ADVENT CALENDARS! grab 2 advent calendars. oh yeah, those little easy-to-peel mandarin oranges. grab a box of mandarin oranges. gum, gum will help me. buy a pack of strawberry-banana gum.
11:50 am: remember that JJ and i had planned, since he has a day off today, to meet at San Francisco Sourdough for lunch. damn. text him that we shall change the time to 7 pm. after the fast.
11:54 am: get back to my desk early. bury myself in my work.
12:25 pm: I. HATE. MY. LIFE. i just sharted. I JUST SHARTED. RUN TO THE BATHROOM AND TAKE OFF SOILED UNDERWEAR. RUN BACK TO MY DESK WITH SOILED UNDERWEAR BALLED UP IN MY FIST. PUT SOILED UNDERWEAR IN A PLASTIC BAG. RUN BACK TO THE BATHROOM TO WASH MY HANDS 3 TIMES. like, is my life real? IS IT? the fast has made me shit my pants.
12:32 pm: text CA and tell her of my fate. she says, "uh oh, maybe you should eat a lil something...?" i send back, "no. i will not fail." then realize the irony. technically i do fail. i fail at life.
12:50 pm: rabid with hunger.
1:01 pm: F&%$ING RABID
1:28 pm: not so bad anymore. have i crossed a new threshold? only 5.5 hours to go!
2:15 pm: arrive at CP's house for babysitting.
2:16 pm: CP asks me to unload her delicious groceries. salivating.
3:00 pm: CP asks me to help her package SHORTBREAD COOKIES WITH ICING for a bake sale. kill me plz.
3:45 pm: start to sweat
4:15 pm: ready to pass out.
4:30 pm: shaking violently. am about to throw up.
4:41 pm: arrive at San Francisco Sourdough for my "break fast" meal.
4:42 pm: cannot wait any longer. technically i started the fast at 5 pm yesterday because all i had from 5-7 last night was 3 hershey kisses. inhale my small bag of salt & vinegar chips.
4:58 pm: still waiting for mine and JJ's sandwiches.
5:01 pm: get sandwiches and race home.
5:20 pm: get home. jump into pajamas. tell JJ it's best not to talk to me until i have eaten. he has the nerve to ask me, "WHAT'S WRONG?!?!?!"
5:21 pm: REALIZE. THERE. IS. ONLY. ONE. SANDWICH. IN. THE. BAG. completely lose my mind and start crying. HERE'S THE KICKER: WHOSE SANDWICH WAS FORGOTTEN? WHOSE?!?!?!?!? not my well-fed husband's, who quit The Fast after two hours. but mine. mine was the forgotten sandwich. THEY FORGOT MY FUDGING SANDWICH.
5:22 pm: back in the car, with a crazed look in my eye as we speed back to SFSD for the sandwich--MY sandwich. JJ tells me i need to calm down. i tell him where to shove it.
5:38 pm: storm into SFSD in floral pajama pants and slippers. walk up to the counter and cut off the person ordering. "HI I ORDERED 2 SANDWICHES AND ONLY GOT 1." every single one of the workers rushes to my side and they all say softly, "OHmyGOSH we tried to catch you, we are sooooo sorry." i shout, "I HAVE BEEN FASTING FOR 48 HOURS (because sometimes you just have to exaggerate) AND THIS WAS MY FIRST MEAL." "worker who was at fault for The Forgotten Sandwich laughs and i catch a glimpse at his golden tooth. i quietly envision a scene of me kicking him in the nuts then ripping out his golden tooth with my bare hands and taking said tooth to a pawn shop. so i finish, ".......that's why i look so CRAZY!!!" the guy hands me the sandwich and i sprint to the car. eat in silence as JJ drives us home.

the end.

disclaimer **World Hunger is not funny at all. we all know i'm a tad dramatic, and clearly i wasn't going to die from fasting for 24 hours, but it was extremely difficult. i can't imagine what it would be like to go days--even weeks without one morsel of food. i used my blog as a public outlet to support my sister's efforts. i made the topic light and airy with my descriptions, and indeed it was an incredibly Bad Day (i.e. shart, forgotten sandwich, 10-hour work day, etc.) but World Hunger is a serious and heartbreaking issue that is affecting millions of people every single day. please support the cause.

if you would like to help, but do not wish to endure The Fast please send a check made out to Pepperdine University with "24-hour Fast" written in the subject line to:

Charlotte Ann Graf
Pepperdine University
24255 Pacific Coast Highway
#1429
Malibu, CA 90263

Sunday, November 22, 2009

it's all about presentation

like i mentioned before, i will be helping out my Mother in the kitchen this Thanksgiving. so naturally, last night i picked out my Thanksgiving outfit, then practiced my entry into the dining room with the food. here are the finalists:

1. march in, knees high, chin high, quite like a baton-twirler, with the mashed potatoes high over my head.

2. low, sweeping steps into the dining room, with my right arm performing dramatic gestures towards the gravy in my left hand.

3. flit into the room like a fairy, with small, quick steps on my toes. place the dinner rolls delicately on the table.

4. hire a tall thin butler with a skinny moustache and slicked back hair, with a white towel draped over his arm to follow me around wherever i go, to make me look important.

5. big perma-smile on my face as i greet my loved ones into the home, unbeknownst to them i farted in the dining room.

6. waltz in with a cornucopia filled with money.

which one to choose? oh so many options...

First Snow 2009

when i think of the first snow, i picture myself cheering when the radio recited SHS as one of the schools who cancelled. i see myself outside with my sisters in my snow overalls that gave me major camel toe, careening down the driveway in the purple saucers that had our names on them. the wind in our hair, not a worry in sight. i think of snowmen and laughing at yellow snow. then i picture myself inside with rosy cheeks, mittens on the fireplace to dry (and that one time my ladybug mittens caught on fire and burned to ashes) drinking hot cocoa and watching a movie in our long johns. . .

First Snow 2009

last night:

JJ: "L! i will wake up tomorrow morning and go get you doughnuts before work! and i'll make you some Christmas Coffee" (i.e. espresso with peppermint mocha creamer)
L: "OK!!!! thanks i love you! JJ i think it's going to snow! eeee!!"
JJ: "no it's not. i can see the stars. no snow."
L: "JUST YOU WAIT! and OMG our wedding announcement is going to be in the paper tomorrow!!! eeeee!"

sleep

2 am: gotta tinkle since i drank some Emergen-C before bed. still no snow. harumph. maybe he was right.

6:30 am: ZING! out of bed. rush to window. SNOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. SNOWWWWWWWWWWWWW. SSSSSSSSNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW! jump on top of JJ and yell at him to get me my doughnuts.
JJ: "noooooo, i'm not getting out of bed." more whining.
L: "you promised me doughnuts. you promised."
JJ: "i don't feel good."
L: "F I N E"

no doughnut. no coffe. no help shoveling the snow off my car. no snowmen. no purple saucer. no camel-toe snow overalls. no care-free wind in my hair. and no wedding announcement in the paper.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Christmas Season

for those of you that know me well, you are aware that i believe there nothing better in life than The Christmas Season. nothinggg!

except for candy canes. but that's it. i'm eating one right now. my favorite-- cherry flavored ones. i basically will eat at least one a day from now until Christmas. i bought four 12-pack boxes.

here are some of my very own personal traditions:

1. the day of the first snowfall, i will record a special Christmas Message on my answering machine. guess you'll have to call me and listen for yourself. FYI it is supposed to snow tomorrow, 11/22...

2. if your number is in my phone, it is very likely that i will call you at least once This Christmas Season and carol for you.

3. if you are immediate family or a bfff (bestf*&$ingfriendsforever) you have already, or will receive a miniature Christmas package with a burned CD of some of my favorite yules. (sorry to the rest of you...i sent out 15 packages this year--it's too pricey to send a Christmas Package to every one of my dear readers, but hey, email me your address and i will add you to mine and JJ's Christmas Card List).

4. i will fa-la-la-la-la everyday throughout the house to make everything jolly.

5. i will hush the room if a Christmas commercial comes on TV. i LOVE Christmas commercials.

6. i have written in my planner the entire schedule of the 25 Days of Christmas on abc Family.

7. i will buy Christmas costumes for Chanel & Cleo.

8. i have bought Christmas room spray and Christmas hand soap.

9. i have purchased a REALLY SPECIAL CHRISTMAS HAIR ACCESSORY that i will not tell you. it's a surprise and it's reallllllly cool.

10. i'm in a perma-good mood until Janurary 2.

what are your feelings/traditions about Christmas?

Free Poultry

obviously i try really hard to avoid any sort of activity for RW outside of my working hours. like i hate it here. the people i work with are a bunch of uneducated rednecks. (i.e. new employee in housekeeping is a pregnant chainsmoker. who has 2 kids named Tayvius and Beautiful Harmony...lets hope she doesn't "happen upon" my blog because i think she would slice my neck and drink my blood for dinner. and not in a sexy Twilight-ish way)

back to avoiding any work "things." the all-employee Christmas dinner, for example. NOT A CHANCE i would ever show up. ever. the all-employee summer picnic. again, NOT A CHANCE. all-employee appreciation day, all-employee baseball game...all-employee Christmas concert...

but i must admit. i partook in an all-employee event last Wednesday morning at 8:30 am. for some really odd reason, RW gives out a free Thanksgiving Turkey to every employee. i called my mom and asked her if she would be interested in the free Thanksgiving Turkey, and she was. so i schlepped over to RW to get the damn thing. there it was. my frozen solid 15.8-pound bird. i tipped my hat to the kitchen worker and bid him adieu, turkey in hand. it was seriously so heavy. i had to stop halfway to my car because of the crippling bird. and i thought to myself, "self, you are being really self-less right now. you are sweating and struggling, while holding this raw, frozen bird, when you don't even eat meat." the things we do for family.

anyway, i promised my mom i would help her in the kithen this year on Thanksgiving. it's going to be the best goddamn Thanksgiving we ever had. And To All Of My Family Members Who Will Be Eating My Turkey: you can thank ME when you are eating your deliciously-cooked dinner on Thursday and Grandma's Turkey Soup on friday. ME.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

"my" surprise

when i got home from Santa Barbara, JJ was waiting for me with Cleo in the front seat. he said to me, "i have a surprise for you at home!" i pictured a bouquet of flowers, a pack of skittles, or dare i say it--a clean house! i was excited the whole way home.

i walked in the door and saw them: the 2 brand new speakers sitting on either side of the TV. i rolled my eyes. i mean, what can you do? he's been wanting them for months. and he had a wonderful month in commissions. you just gotta let the man have his damn speakers.

so i did the half smile and was like OH GREAT. WHAT A GREAT SURPRISE. NEW SPEAKERS. I ALWAYS WANTED NEW SPEAKERS. and he was like NO NO NO WAIT FOR IT L!

so i waited.

he twiddled something on his computer, and Taylor Swift's Christmas album comes blaring through the new speakers.

so basically he wanted to ease me into his new purchase by making it a "gift" for me.

i smiled and gave him a kiss and said, "you are so wonderful. you know just what i like."

Monday, November 16, 2009

MAKE EVERY DAY HAPPY

i got in really late last night so i had extra trouble getting up and out the door to work this morning. JJ was an especially irritated hibernating bear this morning when i asked him to make me a sandwich for lunch. he made it on the stalest bread ever. (i just tried to eat it and i couldn't) then i asked him if he could start my car and he didn't. so i got all huffy and marched outside in my bralette and black opaque tights with the hole in the right big toe and did it myself. it was not a happy morning. BUT i am using my new Juicy travel mug...it's pink and says in big bold letters "MAKE EVERY DAY HAPPY." it's a good one. i love it. i arrived to work in the nick of time and just when i was convincing myself to live by the words on my mug and start the day over in a happier mood.........in walks the Poop Nazi. (sorry to reader "Sarah" who disapproves of my negligent use of the word "Nazi" ...everyone knows her as PN already, some things are hard to change)

i was in the resident dining room, saying hello to the breakfast eaters and pouring hot water for tea into my new mug, PN shuffles in breathing heavily and says to me loudly "YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO GET COFFEE IN HERE, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GET IT IN THE EMPLOYEE BREAK ROOM." i looked at her angrily and said, "it's water." and she goes, "OH. SORRY. I JUST DIDN'T WANT YOU TO GET IN TROUBLE." shut up, yes you did. you just yelled at me in front of my beloved residents you big asswipe. your whole life is trying to micro-manage me and make my life Miserable. she then proceeds to follow me to my desk, toddling behind me the whole way, and says to me as i sit down, "you look a little frazzled this morning, has it been hard getting the day going?" OHMYGHODDDD GET OUTTA MY FACE BITCH BEFORE I DEVASTATE YOUR NOSE WITH MY GIANT DESTRUCTIVE FIST. i just said, "i got home late last night," and focused intently on my computer screen. she toddled away.

and then i didn't see her for 3 whole hours. 3 HOURS OF A PN-FREE WORKZONE. UNBELIEVABLE. and then at 11:25 am she comes to my desk and i see her out of the corner of my eye so i pretend i'm Very Busy Doing Important Things. she then set her hands on my desk with her fake fuchsia-laquered nails grazing my nameplate and said, "i have been poked, prodded, folded, stapled and tortured all morning!" i replied, "mmmm..." she said, "look at me." i obeyed. what i saw almost made me pee my pants like that one time after school in the 7-11. i'm serious. her cheeks were enormous. like the size of her ass cheeks. a giant, man-eating chipmunk was standing before me. i tried realllllly hard to stifle my laughs, but i couldn't help but guffaw at her. so i allowed myself one. one guffaw. then i said, "oooh, ahhh, looks painful." then went back to my work. she said, "it is. really painful." and waddled away.

PN as man-eating chipmunk has MADE THIS DAY HAPPY.

trial motherhood

i went to Santa Barbara this last weekend to assist the family i babysit for during a wedding weekend. i am 98% sure i look marginally less hot than i did before i left. after spending four straight days with a 5-year-old, a 4-year-old and 7-month-old, i truly look at my mother in a new light. having 4 children under the age of 8 must have been truly daunting!

thursday night, 4-year-old S and i shared a bed in a beach house. 5-year-old M slept in the bed next to ours. midnight: S needs a glass of water. 1 am: M needs her back rubbed. 3 am: M wets the bed. strip bed, put M into bed with me and S. 4 am: M punches me in the ear. 6 am Friday: both children awake and ready for the day. 6:03 am: put frosty the snowman into my laptop while i get 20 minutes of extra sleep. status: tired but overall not bad. it was kind of fun, like a sleepover.

8 am Friday: walk on the beach with M and S. breakfast of cereal and fruit. 11 am: pack up children's gear and shove a taco down my throat while holding baby P. 12 pm: drive to check into the FOUR SEASONS. take one hour of free time. eat some ice cream. 1 pm: take 20 minute power car nap like a loser. 1:30 pm: stumble back into hotel still half asleep. but perk up after room service grilled cheese. 2 pm: shuffle children into the bath, get them dressed and ready for rehearsal. 3:30 pm: just me and baby P. feed her, play with her, watch some America's Funniest Home Videos. 5 pm: M and S get back to the room with 2 cousins. watch some Scooby Doo and eat pizza and cupcakes. 7 pm: diarrhea ensues. i will not disclose who had the troubles. 7:15 pm: kiddles all in bed. 8 pm: TLC Say Yes to the Dress marathon. SCORE! 10 pm: walk into room and see all 30 lbs of S taking up the entire bed. move him over. and he scoots back. move him over. scoot. move. scoot. move while jumping into bed action. scoots right on top of me. fall asleep.

6 am Saturday: kids up. UP. throw on some cartoons and drag myself to the shower. after shower, 5 games of Go Fish and 10 of Crazy Eights. read a book to the kids in bed. 8 am: kids jump into the bed of their poor parents who were out celebrating at the rehearsal dinner the night before. order ROOM SERVICE breakfast. 9:45 am: take M and S to the pool. even wearing a one-piece, have an almost-indecent-exposure incident. 10:45 am: back to the room. get kids bathed and dressed. get myself dressed. help recover CP's lost shoe. 1:30 pm: load into the car. bride's mother asks me to run into the drugstore to get some shoe pads for the bride. run into walgreens like a wild banshee screaming "WHERE ARE THE SHOE PADS!?!?!?" poor woman behind counter quietly says, "aisle 3." sprint to aisle 3 grab some dr. scholls run to checkout. guy ahead of me is literally counting out his payment in coins. when it is my turn, throw a 10 dollar bill in the girl's face, grab the shoe pads and the change and race back to the car. am celebrated for my speediness. 1:50 pm: get to the church. put baby P in her dress. go inside. sit down. take a breath. 2:05 pm: baby P starts crying. take her outside. falls asleep in my arms. 4 pm: arrive at reception. try to get baby back to sleep. S is on sugar high running rampant through the party. 5 pm: gather up children and herd them to the car. take them back to the beloved four seasons. get almost to the room and realize i didn't lock the car and didn't have a room key. drag 3 tired children up and down and all around until we finally get into the room. manage to wrestle them out of their formal wear and into pajamas. order room service yet again (will never ever tire of room service) and we feast and watch a show. 7:30 pm: kids in bed. watch confessions of a shopaholic. 9:30 pm: have a move-scoot war with S again and finally settle into bed. 10 pm: M needs a back rub. 1 am: S needs water. 1:30 am: my sister calls. 3 am: wake up slightly frightened with two little hands on either side of my face. 6 am on the mother-fudging dot: kids up and ready for the day. i mean, where does the energy come from!?!?!!? put on sesame street. get chastised for choosing "such a dumb baby show." put on Martha Speaks. 10 more minutes of sleep. games of Go Fish...Crazy Eights...breakfast...pool. M forces me to put my head under water. (at the four seasons they play music under water--SERIOUSLY!) waddle back to room. shower. pack up. back to the beach house. go for one last walk on the beach. give kids kisses goodbye and head to the airport. the silence in my life at this point is a love/hate thing.

overall i had a good time, it was so much fun. and i love love love the kids. but motherhood is hard work. kudos to all the momz out there.

realize 2 things after weekend trip as a pseudo-mom: 1. i think i am prepared for anything when the time comes for me. 2. if i have to watch Barbie Swan Lake one more time, i think i will gauge my eyeballs out.

Monday, November 9, 2009

The Rug Dr.

my mom is coming into town tonight. what better time than yesterday to rent the Rug Dr., scour the litter box, clean the toilet, wash the sheets,strip the couch covers and douse them in bleach, etc. etc. i mean, my house is as clean as martha fudging stewart's right now.

but of course my cleaning Did Not Go Off Without Irritating Experiences. first, i sent JJ out to rent the Rug Dr. he came back in a huff because apparently you have to have a WA state driver's license in order to rent. JJ still has his little round-faced 16-year-old self beaming from his CA state lisence. so back to the grocery store we went. Cleo wanted to come for the ride. we left her in the car and went in to rent (ohyeahandwealsopickedupaturtlecheesecakenobigdeal) we opened the car doors to load the Dr. into the car and an overwhelming stench overcame us. we gagged and cursed and screamed right there in the suburban grocery store parking lot. and it was 8 pm so it was pitch black. we couldn't find the source of the smell. so i was like "CLEO I KNOW IT WAS YOU, WHERE IS IT? WHERE'S THE PILE?!?!" her tail went between her legs. JJ called her another word for the female genitalia. all four car doors are open, my purse is thrown on the ground and the Dr. is laying defenseless on its side. we are taking about 6 parking spaces with our spectacle. 2 people screaming at a dog and trying not to throw up.

"I'VE FOUND IT," exclaimed JJ, as proud as a pirate who found a buried treasure. and there it was. a pile of shit. a pile of shit in the back seat of my car. i grabbed the pile with a plastic bagged hand and threw it all away. JJ and i organized ourselves and tucked everything nicely into the vehicle and Cleo came and sat obediently on my lap, with a tall, confident posture as if she didn't just plant the nastiest dump on my leather upholstery. idiot.

we get home and of course i Rug Dr. the entire house while JJ sits on his ass eating bon-bons, pointing and stating "you've missed a spot, there." when i finished, i felt wonderful. triumphant. i took one look around the room and said, "good job, self. pat. on. the. mother. fudging. BACK." and out of the corner of my eye, i see Cleo, squatting and taking a giant piss on my newly Rug Doctored carpet.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Party Trick

i have always been envious of those with a Party Trick. for instance, Cameron Diaz's character in "What Happens in Vegas" cuts the top of a champagne bottle with a knife. one of my roommates senior year, P is able to recite every word in the song "Ice Ice Baby" Moon can take a shot faster than anyone i know with her guzzling abilities, and Sam is able to do the splits.

i've thought and thought about the things that make me cool. and all i could come up with is my loud personality, ability to last 4+ days without a shower, and a love for all things Jim Carrey. those don't work. i had given up on my Party Trick Quest months ago, until last night...

my sister-in-law SHG is a high school English teacher, and while she was grading mid-terms, she had a laugh. her facebook status read "grading literature papers...'Beowulf is a piece of Anglo-Saxon litter.' thanks spell check." i laughed. then i was promted to think about the ENTIRE COURSE in college i took on Beowulf and Beowulf alone (the movie also conveniently came out during this semester. RedG and i went, didn't love it, but didn't hate it) i thought about how now, in retrospect, i really did grow to enjoy the class and actually consider it to be one of my favorites and most memorable. i thought about how everyone laughed during my presentation when i said "i found it interesting that in the Old English version of 'Beowulf,' the word 'wæpen' (pronounced 'way-pen') means both 'weapon' and 'penis'." i thought about how shocked i was at the amount of information i had learned at the end of the class, especially that-----OHMYGHOD I HAVE A PARTY TRICK

see below.




it's The Lord's Prayer in Old English. i am soooooooooo COOL.

did you check out my new tank top? I AM SO BLOGGING THIS

the apparent problem

the desk i share with 4 other receptionists had a twinge of a sour rotten smell eminating around it last week. my first instinct was to smell my hands, then my feet. my armpits, my clothes, and my croth/butt area. all clear. it was not me. i sniffed and i sniffed, trying to find the source. i stuck my head in the garbage. nothing. i put my face against the carpet and took a whiff, nothing. i smelled the mouse, the keyboard, the phone, the printer, even the paper shredder. all good.

WTF?!

i figured it was probably something to do with the new carpet installation that was going on in the other room. but today i came into work, and the smell is much more powerful. and now i think someone is playing a dirty trick on me.



the ol' PUT A ROTTEN FISH INSIDE MY DESK SOMEWHERE WHERE I CAN'T FIND IT TRICK. i'll get to the bottom of this.

Chanel + Kitty Crack = Love 4evr

my mom heard a woman on the Martha Stewart show. she is the author of The Cat Bible. Please feel free to browse her site, but also please feel free to know that going to the website is the key element to The Crazy Lady Starter Kit.

http://www.traciehotchner.com/cb/index.htm

my mom heard this woman talk about how terrible the dry cat food is. like i said before, we buy Chanel only the best: Iams Indoor Weight and Hairball Control which is about $15 a bag. and Chanel vacuumes through a bag every couple of weeks. fat. ass. but anyway, this cat woman claims that dry food is like kitty crack and that one should only feed a cat organic wet food. so i momentarily feared for Chanel's existence and bought her some wet food. the cat lady said that the first time a cat tries it, she/he will think it's heaven and try to eat as much as possible. she said to feed the cat as much as she/he wants for 15 minutes. knowing Chanel's issues with eating her feelings, i got 2 cans out, ready to stuff her like a ham. i poured the first can into the bowl and she stared at it for like 5 minutes while swishing her tail (she only swishes her tail when annoyed). "fudge," i thought. "this is going to be difficult." so i called my mom and said, "she won't eat the wet food." my mom said, "who?" i said, "Chanel. she won't eat it, mom. what does the cat lady say to that?" my mom said, "she says that the cat won't starve itself, eventually she'll come around and end up liking it."

and so the canned food sat. it sat and it sat. in Chanel's bowl. for 14 hours. i got home from work and there was a fly on it. and it was all crusted and nasty. and Chanel was rabidly starving. like eyes the size of tennis balls and her tongue licking her lips and her fur all mussed and her tail swishing wildly. (see any parallels here with a crack-addict??) "EAT WHAT I GAVE YOU BITCH!" i yelled at her. i set her next to the food, she jumped down and stared longingly at the prize: her plastic container with her name on the front, holding her dry food. (i could practically hear her, "just need another hit. one more, that's all." i glared at her and said, "that's what they all say, Chanel.") i decided to let Chanel think about her life for a while. so i fed Cleo since she eats what i give her. i poured Cleo's food in her bowl and Chanel PLOWS THROUGH THE KITCHEN taking down anything and everything in her path. she slid to a halt in front of Cleo's dish, practically punting the dog out of her way. then she inhaled the entirety of the dog food. my cat ate dog food. my overweight persnickity cat ate Iams Dog Food for Small and Toy Breeds. she is bigger than a small or toy breed. and i'm not exactly sure what's going to happen to her. i was astounded. i have literally never seen anything like it in my life.

needless to say we are back to feeding the giant monster her dry food. i think the cat lady was right about the kitty crack. seriously. i can picture Chanel as a human. a frail little waif of a girl, shooting up in the deep dark alleys of Spokane. the kitty crack may shave a few years off of her lifespan, but hey, she's one happy pussy cat.

Name Tag

we got new name tags at work. i hate hate hate hate hate hate hate name tags. like if you want to know my name, ask me. plus i have one of those things at the front of my desk that has my name displayed in size 72 font for all to see. why do i need to wear a name tag on my shirt when it is clearly visible!?!?! our old name tags had our pictures on them. i look like an 8th grader who just got kissed for the first time because i'm blushing and smiling weird and my eyes are all wide. AND my roots are so bad in the photo i can't stand to look at it. i have worn mine only twice.

some of the people who have been working here for 20+ years still have the photo that was taken of them in 1986. (in other words, the year i born) everyone is frozen in time. everyone has stupid hair and stupid blue eye shadow and stupid moustaches. and sometimes i ask an employee over to my desk just so i can get a closer look at the incrminating photograph displayed on their chest. the funniest part is that they aren't even ashamed of the picture because "i was so much younger back then" except for they all look so STUPID! like OMG PEOPLE THIS ISN'T A SET FOR SIXTEEN CANDLES, GET WITH THE TIMES. so what, you traded in your permed mullet for thinner hair and a few wrinkles, BETTER FOR YOU! (except we all know that one of my coworkers still self-rightously wears the ol mullerooski) i just hope i'm not like that one day. picture it, it's 2042, and there i am, stuck in 2009 with my straight shoulder-length blonde hair, wearing a pencil skirt and white collared shirt, my makeup consisting of natural-looking mascara, lip gloss and blush. oh, the horror.

our new name tags are rounded, with a picture of our new emblem. our names and titles are below, and we are now required by HR to wear them everyday. so now i have to deal with this horrible round thing made of cheap plastic ruining my outfits. and they used my maiden name. and now i can't laugh at everyone else's picture from 1986. and the worst part is that it just says "receptionist" under my name, not "receptionist extraordinaire"

tid-bits

just a few things in my life right now i thought you should be aware of:

i woke up today feeling pangs in my stomach. not sure if they were from the abdominal workout in jazzercise yesterday morning or from the 3 enchiladas i ate last night for dinner. THREE. i think it's a combination of both.

it is also BUTTERNUT SQUASH RAVIOLI SEASON AT COSTCO! if you think i eat 7 of them for lunch everyday, you're right.

in other news, something terrible happened on wednesday when i was unloading the dishwasher. you know when you're unloading and you leave every cupbaord open so you don't have to keep opening and closing while putting everything away? well i forgot to close that ONE GOD DAMN CUPBOARD and i RAN INTO IT. with my head. it hit me so hard i fell on the ground and i writhed around in pain for 3 minutes screaming. the bruise is covered nicely by my bangs. but i'm just so mad at myself for being so stupid and careless. BUT YOU ALL KNOW--it could be worse--i could have slammed my finger in the car door again. YOINKS! (shaggy from scooby doo says that)

i tried to downsize and clean out my closet yesterday, but in the end i realized i was missing a few KEY WARDROBE STAPLES and so i made a list of new items i need. that's the epitomy of frivolity i think.

i taught the kids i babysit for how to play crazy 8s. S and i got so into it, we played 32 straight games. 32! we were so in the zone. card sharks, if you will. i wanted to give him a little bit of confidence, so i let him win some games, and so there we were, S with 25 games won and i with a mere 7. he decides then to declare, "loser bakes winner cookies." bafdssdfaiuhsfdakj. YOU SWINDLED ME INTO LETTING YOU WIN SO YOU COULD GET FREE COOKIES OUT OF THE DEAL. whatevs. i made peanut butter blossoms and ate about 14 before i brought them to him. i bowed in front of him and said, "to the Crazy 8 Champion, i honor thee."

WARNING: Azteca's macho margaritas now only have 1/8 of a shot of tequila in them.

Cleo has finally learned how to get onto the bed without asking us. only took her a year. she jumps onto the chair then onto the bed instead of coming to my side of the bed and staring up at me, waiting to be picked up like a queen and placed on her throne.

and so i'm going to end this in an Al Roaker sort of way by asking, "what's happening in your neck of the woods?"

Monday, November 2, 2009

email communication at its worst

as managing editor of the RW employee newsletter, i compile creative articles that contain relevant information that will catch the average readers' interest. one of the said articles was about email communication. i read it. it held my interest and seemed like appropriate information for my coworkers. i also THOUGHT i learned something.

so RW asked me to come in for some extra hours to do data entry into a new program that holds all the residents' medical records. FOR SOME ASININE REASON I ACCEPTED. wtf is wrong with me? SERIOUSLY.

well of course i regretted my decision almost immediately. i already have two jobs. and my mom is coming next tuesday. and i'm going to Santa Barbara next thursday. and i have jazzercise class. and laundry.

so i constructed this email this morning to send to the woman who i was supposed to meet with today at 1:30 to help with the data entry. she works in the same building as me but i have never met her. so i wonder if she even knows who i am. i sure as hell don't know who she is...

Christine—

I’m so very sorry, but I won’t be able to help with the KeaneCare data entry. I have another part-time job outside of Rockwood that, I just found out yesterday, is going to prove to be quite demanding these next few weeks. My husband and I also have house guests coming in a few days, and in addition, we’ll be going out of town next week; things are rather crazy for me right now. I thought I would be able to help you out, but I just put too much on my plate! Again, I’m terribly sorry, but looking forward to the success of the new program.

Lacie


(notice how i capitalize my "i's" in formal emails?? tres professional) i sent it. no reply as of yet. i wonder if she's mad at me.

also, after i thought i had perfected the email, i re-read it after i sent it. OHMYGOD MY "PART-TIME JOB" SEEMS LIKE SEASONAL STRIPPER. read it. "my other part-time job is going to prove to be quite demanding these next few weeks." i mean, why did i have to be so elusive about it? i could have easily said, "IMA GONNA BE A WORKIN A SHITLOAD AS A BABYSITTER THESE NEXT FEW WEEKS" but instead, i learn nothing from the email communication article and Christine now thinks i am a slut on stage in a revealing pilgrim costume with dollar bills sticking out of my fanny.

i took that damn article out of the employee newsletter. and in its place, i think i will put a giant ad that reads, "I AM NOT A STRIPPER, I AM SIMPLY A BABYSITTER WITH NO HIDDEN AGENDA."

Sunday, November 1, 2009

merry christmas season

copy and paste this into a new internet window. RIGHT NOW. and enjoy

http://www.rhapsody.com/alabama/christmas--2007/thistlehair-the-christmas-bear/lyrics.html

go ahead and sing along if you'd like: GOD THAT CHORUS GETS ME EVERYTIME!!

Oh, Thistlehair the Christmas bear
Spreadin' the good news everywhere.
About Christmas time and what it means
To all the children of the world.
Every little boy and girl
Out there, loves Thistlehair


as most of you may already know, i start celebrating Christmas early--November 1. this tradition started the lonely year...2006. i had bought a bag of "fun-sized" butterfingers for the trick-or-treaters, and then not one kid came a-knockin' so i ate all of them myself. what better way to forget that disgrace than to start humming fa la la la la la la la la whilst hanging up novelty snowmen on November 1??

so, i started this morning off with a little Taylor Swift Christmas blasting from my itunes into JJ's sleeping ears while i put on my makeup. he turned it down like a scrooge.

next came the texts to KitKat, KKiss, LJ and Sam: "hope you're dreaming of me. it's november 1, merry christmas season!"

then i was off to work with an extra kick in my step.

then came the online ordering of a holiday accessory that you are all going to be jealous of.

then came the bragging of how wonderful it is to finally be in the Christmas season. then came the judgmental stares of my coworkers who crushed my heart and my spirit by yelling at me "NOT UNTIL AFTER THANKSGIVING!!!!!"

eat shit, all of you who agree with my coworkers.

adult halloween

last night was fun! Rah and i made our own butternut squash ravioli and sangria! before any of it started though, i slipped on my own socks and fell onto my back on the hardwood floor and Rah stepped in dog pee. we knew it was going to be a long night.

this is how it went:

1. DING DONG.
2. quickly wipe off squash from fingers.
3. (take turns doing this): grab dogs, one under each arm (made mistake the first time, Cleo ran outside and i had to chase after her in sparkle shorts and thigh high socks. garnered bemused looks from unsuspecting parents)
4. snatch candy bowl
5. open door and catch the children walking away and say "wait wait wait, here you go, some candy for you, dears."
6. slam door and take gulp of sangria.
7. rinse and repeat.

except once. once when we opened the door there were 5 14-year-old boys standing on the doorstep wearing jeans and sweatshirts, holding out pillowcases for loot. LIKE WTF?!?! you're not even in costume. little shistes. we gave them candy nonetheless and went back to our business in the kitchen.

2 minutes later...

DING DONG.
same boys.
young boy: "can we, uh, get a picture with you guys?"
Rah: "uh, we're married. this is weird." (i whisper "OHMYGOD RAH hahahahjahhAHAHAH")
young boy: "come on, please."
Rah: "oh, all right, just one, now hurry."
young boy whips out camera phone. another young fat boy pushes everyone out of his way to get the prize-winning spot right next to Rah's boob.
*snap*
Rah: "OK now, see you later."
young boys in unison: "YOU GUYS ARE HOT" (run away)

pause.....

L: "OHHHH MYYYY GHODDDDDD HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH" (fall on floor)
Rah: "lets just not talk about it"

we ate dinner, drank the 'gria and changed into costume. tried to have a dance party via Rah's ipod, but couldn't get into the groove. sat around watching Taylor Swift on youtube until JJ arrived from a long night at work.





(aren't we regal)

the four of us (me, JJ, Rah and Nebular) played Taboo (and of course the girls won, because only the two of us can do it like this: Rah says "ooh, ooh, "we both have some. they're really cute, and wintery but kind of weird..." and i shout "EARMUFFFFFFFS!!!!!") the boys were incredulous with us at first, but in the end, were quite impressed with our skills.

JJ and i went home after a long night and were just climbing into bed when we hear Chanel coughing...followed by a cantaloupe-sized hairball and 12 ounces of bile. right on the bed. happy halloween!
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