So remember the article I wrote a couple months ago titled "How to Be a Trophy Wife"? I just looked it up and someone actually left a comment on it... I guess people really do read these things:)
It says, "Bravo! A sense of humor one should not be without! Thanks for the smile :-)"
OK, but then? This person turned aroundand wrote the exact same article. Wierd, no? At least I got paid for mine and that's really all I care about.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
9.5.07
Being married to Matt is a barrel of just about every emotion. Most of our days are spent laughing our heads off and generally just having a blast together. But sometimes? He pulls some crazy shit on me. Like tonight.
He's the new Athletic Director for his school district so since July he's been learning the ins and outs of running a high school and middle school athletic program pretty much on his own. For not having any experience with this and being thrown into the game to clean up someone else's $20,000 mistake, he's doing an awesome job. But, like any situation that you're thrown into without having any experience, he often feels like his head is barely above water. Evidently tonight was one of those nights because I got an email at 7:30 that read:
Katie,
If you have time tomorrow, and this is so I dont forget later tonight, would
you be able to get a copy of the Nathional Anthem on CD? If not I will have to
get one before FRI to play at the home gym events. I should be home around 11 tonight. Sorry.
Matt
I kinda scratched my head then dove into Macgyver mode thinking ways to get ahold of the National Anthem. I called the library, 30 minutes from closing time, who put me on hold and searched for a good 10 minutes coming up with a book titled "The National Anthem". "Will that work for ya, hon?" No.
Knowing there's no way I'll be in the mood to handle this after work tomorrow and my break is being spent meeting with a church elder who I've been avoiding for 3 months (and who finally cornered me into spending my lunch break with her... lucky Matt gets out of this one), I hopped in my car to fly over to Walmart. Hell, basically.
The guy in the CD department looked about half my age and three times my height. He helped me search the CDs looking for what I was now referring to as "The Damn National Anthem" in my head. Thinking I had it nailed, I picked up a 30 track BOX SET of patriotic songs for $9.98 (why does everything at Walmart end in .98?) I searched the back only to find that of all 30 songs, TDNA was not one of them. MOTHER SHUCKER!
Long story short, the guy left and I found it on my own (for 5.98), but was then shamefully unsure of whether TDNA is the same as The Star Spangled Banner. I tried singing it in my head, but couldn't get "America the Beautiful" to quit chiming in. Which then led to "Home, Home On the Range" which then led to Saved By the Bell. In a hurry, I found the boy and asked him. He scratched his head, I made a joke about David Letterman, he shrugged and said "I think?" and I walked away not giving a crap whether he played TDNA or "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow".
But just for kicks, I asked the couple in front of me at the checkout aisle and the chick's response was "I dunno. I've been out of school for 5 years. I'm safe." Right. Love the Walmart.
He's the new Athletic Director for his school district so since July he's been learning the ins and outs of running a high school and middle school athletic program pretty much on his own. For not having any experience with this and being thrown into the game to clean up someone else's $20,000 mistake, he's doing an awesome job. But, like any situation that you're thrown into without having any experience, he often feels like his head is barely above water. Evidently tonight was one of those nights because I got an email at 7:30 that read:
Katie,
If you have time tomorrow, and this is so I dont forget later tonight, would
you be able to get a copy of the Nathional Anthem on CD? If not I will have to
get one before FRI to play at the home gym events. I should be home around 11 tonight. Sorry.
Matt
I kinda scratched my head then dove into Macgyver mode thinking ways to get ahold of the National Anthem. I called the library, 30 minutes from closing time, who put me on hold and searched for a good 10 minutes coming up with a book titled "The National Anthem". "Will that work for ya, hon?" No.
Knowing there's no way I'll be in the mood to handle this after work tomorrow and my break is being spent meeting with a church elder who I've been avoiding for 3 months (and who finally cornered me into spending my lunch break with her... lucky Matt gets out of this one), I hopped in my car to fly over to Walmart. Hell, basically.
The guy in the CD department looked about half my age and three times my height. He helped me search the CDs looking for what I was now referring to as "The Damn National Anthem" in my head. Thinking I had it nailed, I picked up a 30 track BOX SET of patriotic songs for $9.98 (why does everything at Walmart end in .98?) I searched the back only to find that of all 30 songs, TDNA was not one of them. MOTHER SHUCKER!
Long story short, the guy left and I found it on my own (for 5.98), but was then shamefully unsure of whether TDNA is the same as The Star Spangled Banner. I tried singing it in my head, but couldn't get "America the Beautiful" to quit chiming in. Which then led to "Home, Home On the Range" which then led to Saved By the Bell. In a hurry, I found the boy and asked him. He scratched his head, I made a joke about David Letterman, he shrugged and said "I think?" and I walked away not giving a crap whether he played TDNA or "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow".
But just for kicks, I asked the couple in front of me at the checkout aisle and the chick's response was "I dunno. I've been out of school for 5 years. I'm safe." Right. Love the Walmart.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
8.2.07
My, oh my, what a weekend. It all started around last Wednesdayish when I started getting that scratchy feeling in the back of my throat/nose area/region/vicinity. That slowly progressed into a horrid cold that, by the grace of God, enabled me to stay home from MIL h-e-double hockey stix this weekend. Unfortunately, God had a small lesson for me to learn before I was off the hook. In addition to my cold/laryngitis/pneumonia, he bestowed upon me (beginning this morning at 2:00) each of the following:
So that's what I've been up to this weekend! That, and writing 17 articles... 9 more to go.
So that's what I've been up to this weekend! That, and writing 17 articles... 9 more to go.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
8.26.07
I love to travel. When Matt and I got married, one of the wedding shower "games" was for everyone to write down a piece of marital advice for Matt and me. Half the people in attendance were either single, divorced or living in sin (GASP!), which made me laugh (Matt's family threw it, so only I seemed to find the humor in the situation), but my step-dad's advice was to always have a vacation in the works so you always have something to look forward to with each other. I will take that to my grave! In fact, if I'm 105 and find out I'm on my last lap, I'll probably book a trip and refuse to die til I get back. Anyway, the point is, I just booked another trip:)
But not just any trip! I booked through Skybus and chose a destination that offered $10 tickets, so on January 19th, Matt and I are off to Chicopee, MA! True, it's funny to say, but seeeeriously, the whole shebang, including taxes and fees cost $70. Mmm hmm. OK, the hitch. We fly into an Air Force Base... that is, if we actually get there and this whole thing isn't a scam. But then we're renting a car and driving to the Mystic Seaport where MYSTIC PIZZA was filmed!
OK, and THEN! I've never used Priceline before, but decided to give it a try and found the nicest hotel in the area and it was going for $249 a night so I was all punk about it and named my price at $100... well, that didn't fly. But $125 did:)
So that's where we're off to for MLK Jr./President's/Groundhog... whichever it is... Day, weekend, in January. With any luck it will be pretty and wintery, but it will probably just be cold. But shoot, we're staying at a sssssspa, so gimme some pizza and a mud mask and I'll be set. Maybe a Miller Lite too.
Thanks for the advice!
But not just any trip! I booked through Skybus and chose a destination that offered $10 tickets, so on January 19th, Matt and I are off to Chicopee, MA! True, it's funny to say, but seeeeriously, the whole shebang, including taxes and fees cost $70. Mmm hmm. OK, the hitch. We fly into an Air Force Base... that is, if we actually get there and this whole thing isn't a scam. But then we're renting a car and driving to the Mystic Seaport where MYSTIC PIZZA was filmed!
OK, and THEN! I've never used Priceline before, but decided to give it a try and found the nicest hotel in the area and it was going for $249 a night so I was all punk about it and named my price at $100... well, that didn't fly. But $125 did:)
So that's where we're off to for MLK Jr./President's/Groundhog... whichever it is... Day, weekend, in January. With any luck it will be pretty and wintery, but it will probably just be cold. But shoot, we're staying at a sssssspa, so gimme some pizza and a mud mask and I'll be set. Maybe a Miller Lite too.
Thanks for the advice!
Friday, August 24, 2007
8.24.07
Somewhere between teaching the class of 2021 the difference between "thick" and "thin" and the definition of an amphibian, I lost the mental capacity to know that August is month #8... see the dates/titles of my blogs this month and you'll see what I mean.
And now for some of the funny (and gross) stuff I encounter at work:)
(background info: John Henry is 3 years old and comes to my classroom for a half hour every morning... I spend my days with 4 year olds, and believe me, there is a HUGE difference)
Me: John Henry, you have a COOL name! Is that your dad's name too?
JH: (blank stare)
Me: What's your dad's name?
JH: Daddy
About 15 minutes later I hear a commotion coming from the table next to the bathroom (we have a bathroom attached to our room).
Group of kids: Can you wipe? Wipe! Can you do it?
Me: Hmmm, what's going on? (I notice the bathroom door is open and the light is on. On the mini pot... is John Henry.)
Me: Hey, Buddy! Did you go potty?
JH: Blank stare, then a nod.
Me: OK, let me grab some gloves. Sit tight!
JH: Blank stare.
Me: (I return) OK, stand up. Here we go!
JH: Look at my poop, Miss Katie! It really big. It looks like a squooshy snake.
Emma: What's wrong, Ethan?
Ethan: I had a bloody nose.
Emma: I'll pray for you.
Ethan walks away
Emma: I love you, Ethan!
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
7.22.07
Ask and you shall receive... Jennie, this is for you:
http://www.diastat.com/HTML-INF/Epilepsy_Resources/Epilepsy_Printable_Forms_B.htm
Or, if you prefer the video version, you'll get a giggle out of how serious the woman looks when she says "rectal gel".
http://www.diastat.com/HTML-INF/Admin_Diastat/How_to_Administer_Video.htm
Note, however, that the syringe shown in the picture does no justice to the actual size of the thing... in real life it is HUGE.
Sigh.
Thankfully, the crisis has been averted and I will no longer have to take care of this, although I feel pretty bad about it. But seriously, I am NOT the one for the job!! And now that I've blogged about it like a cruel jerk, God will surely send me an epileptic child someday.
http://www.diastat.com/HTML-INF/Epilepsy_Resources/Epilepsy_Printable_Forms_B.htm
Or, if you prefer the video version, you'll get a giggle out of how serious the woman looks when she says "rectal gel".
http://www.diastat.com/HTML-INF/Admin_Diastat/How_to_Administer_Video.htm
Note, however, that the syringe shown in the picture does no justice to the actual size of the thing... in real life it is HUGE.
Sigh.
Thankfully, the crisis has been averted and I will no longer have to take care of this, although I feel pretty bad about it. But seriously, I am NOT the one for the job!! And now that I've blogged about it like a cruel jerk, God will surely send me an epileptic child someday.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
7.21.07
I might have to administer Valium to a 4-yr old via da booty at work. I'm scared to death.
If I had a scanner I'd scan my instruction manual, complete with da butt hole.
If I had a scanner I'd scan my instruction manual, complete with da butt hole.
Friday, August 17, 2007
8.17.07
Also, remember these little buttercup flowers that you held under your chin and if it reflected yellow it meant you like butter? What ever happened to them? The other day a girl resorted to waving a clover under my chin and declared that no, I do not like butter.
8.17.07
What is the protocol for public restroom chitter chatter? What I mean is, say you and a coworker are chatting together while walking down the hallway, and then it turns out you're both headed to the restroom. Then you get there and you're still in the middle of your conversation... do you stop until both are finished peeing or do you just keep talking from your respective stalls? Perhaps it differs depending on how well you know the person. I dunno. What I do know is that this happened to me and I got severe stage fright when it came time to start peeing.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
8.15.07
In honor of the gorgeous weather, Matt and I took the doggies camping last night. We drank, we played cards, we stared at the fire. It was lovely:)
Except for the part where we forgot all of our clothes and our toothbrushes at home. Needless to say, it was a chilly night!
Except for the part where we forgot all of our clothes and our toothbrushes at home. Needless to say, it was a chilly night!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
8.12.07
Hi guys! I've started this blog about 4 times over the last 4 days and keep getting distracted. What I'm trying to say is that I have my pics uploaded, but they're on Myspace and Facebook for now. Here's my Myspace until I can get a lil slideshow action going on my blog:) myspace.com/geminikmp
But here are a few for now:)
But here are a few for now:)
Sunday, August 5, 2007
7.5.07
Hi friends!
I'm baaaaaack! Jamaica was a-maz-ing. Despite having given ourselves 3 extra days of vacation at my parents' lake house, I'm still depressed and dreading my return to work tomorrow. And the gloomy rainy day we're having doesn't help:(
Pictures are a'coming! Only there's one small problem. First I was pist at myself for not taking the little cord that connects the camera to the computer to my parents' house so I could upload pics asap. Then I got over that and now that we're home I'm even more pist at myself bc I left my camera at my parents' house! And they're on vacation all this week! We're going back down in 2 weekends, so I guess I'll just have to wait... so in two weeks check back for the world's longest photo blog.
I'm baaaaaack! Jamaica was a-maz-ing. Despite having given ourselves 3 extra days of vacation at my parents' lake house, I'm still depressed and dreading my return to work tomorrow. And the gloomy rainy day we're having doesn't help:(
Pictures are a'coming! Only there's one small problem. First I was pist at myself for not taking the little cord that connects the camera to the computer to my parents' house so I could upload pics asap. Then I got over that and now that we're home I'm even more pist at myself bc I left my camera at my parents' house! And they're on vacation all this week! We're going back down in 2 weekends, so I guess I'll just have to wait... so in two weeks check back for the world's longest photo blog.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
7324307
We leave for vacation tomorrow! And in honor of that, my co-worker Chris did the following:
Jamaica bound:) Well... after a day of roller skating with the kids. A white girl roller skating with corn rows?!
Jamaica bound:) Well... after a day of roller skating with the kids. A white girl roller skating with corn rows?!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
7.17.07
Clippers Game today!
Krash, the crazy parrot (LouSeal's First Mate-- who makes this stuff up?) Parrot douses us for 5 minutes straight with scuz water. That whole dang stadium and the sea mammal chooses to soak us like some kinda fool. What ever happened to throwing baseballs into the stands? Check out the jet stream on that bad boy!
LouSeal, the much-favored mascot, just being friendly, without drenching fans in his nast.
Check out the wings on that flag. (note the sarcasm, as the wind speed was -3000 in the park) Bring back the parrot!
Suddenly Katie perks up as White Castle burgers (which I recently heard someone refer to as "rat burgers"-- the nerve!) are being flung overhead. Suddenly my team spirit is at an all-time high. Dustin got lucky, but Katie promised herself a stack of steamy burgers after her "I-have-one-week-til-Jamaica-so-all-I-can-eat-is-bark-and-water" diet.
And then some hottie on our team breaks a bat AND THE CROWD GOES WILD.
My buddy, Austin. I taught him the na, na-na, na-na-na-na HEY, but he seemed to HEY on every na and it just turned ugly.
Finally, the weenies. A Clippers game wouldn't be complete without the racing dogs!
Krash, the crazy parrot (LouSeal's First Mate-- who makes this stuff up?) Parrot douses us for 5 minutes straight with scuz water. That whole dang stadium and the sea mammal chooses to soak us like some kinda fool. What ever happened to throwing baseballs into the stands? Check out the jet stream on that bad boy!
LouSeal, the much-favored mascot, just being friendly, without drenching fans in his nast.
Check out the wings on that flag. (note the sarcasm, as the wind speed was -3000 in the park) Bring back the parrot!
Suddenly Katie perks up as White Castle burgers (which I recently heard someone refer to as "rat burgers"-- the nerve!) are being flung overhead. Suddenly my team spirit is at an all-time high. Dustin got lucky, but Katie promised herself a stack of steamy burgers after her "I-have-one-week-til-Jamaica-so-all-I-can-eat-is-bark-and-water" diet.
And then some hottie on our team breaks a bat AND THE CROWD GOES WILD.
My buddy, Austin. I taught him the na, na-na, na-na-na-na HEY, but he seemed to HEY on every na and it just turned ugly.
Finally, the weenies. A Clippers game wouldn't be complete without the racing dogs!
Monday, July 16, 2007
7.16.07
The following conversation took place on the playground:
*editor's note: cobe is perhaps my favorite kid... and of course the most adorable 6 year old blondey ever... with an extreme lisp.*
Issac: Mrs. Teacher? I have to go to the bathroom.
Me: You'll have to wait, buddy. We just got out here.
Issac: But I have to go bad.
Cobe: Sometimes if you hold it long enough...
Me: It just goes away?
Cobe: Yeah. It's kinda creepy. But sometimes? It leaks.
*editor's note: cobe is perhaps my favorite kid... and of course the most adorable 6 year old blondey ever... with an extreme lisp.*
Issac: Mrs. Teacher? I have to go to the bathroom.
Me: You'll have to wait, buddy. We just got out here.
Issac: But I have to go bad.
Cobe: Sometimes if you hold it long enough...
Me: It just goes away?
Cobe: Yeah. It's kinda creepy. But sometimes? It leaks.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
7.14.07
I was having a teensy bit of a bad day after yesterday's camp debauchery (kids + Friday the 13th = a mess), coming home to an empty house without power, followed by our cable going out from 6:30pm til 10am (which also explains why I passed out for the night at 7pm) and just being here by myself in general is kinda sucky... and boring... especially without cable (there went last night's Lifetime movie marathon!) But then... there was a knock at the door the a delightful chap on the other side handed me these:
Matt is wonderful husband.
Matt is wonderful husband.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
7.12.07
Today marks 16 weeks of waiting for our passports that were supposed to take 6-8, then 10-12 and now they should arrive July 24th--2 days before we leave for Jamaica-- making it 18 weeks total. If, that is, they show up. So irritating. I waited on hold for 35 minutes to be told that I can print some proof of application from the Dept. of State's Web site if the passports don't come in time. Umm, jip? I want my stamp, fools. I plan on making babies in the year 2008 (ok, maybe 1 baby) so I doubt I'll be leaving the country again any time soon. So gimme my stamp, wahhhhhhh.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
7.11.07 v.2.0
I don't know which is better, although the kids singing about Hill up on the Hill is a little creepy. Obama's gets an A for the hook. And is it wierd that I find him slightly attractive? Probably no wierder than my crush on Doogie Howser. At least Obama's straight. For now.
The obsession with CNN and FoxNews is at an all-time high. I know, FoxNews isn't "real" news. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But it's sooooo good. The Food Network and MTV have taken a total backseat to 49 and 39 at the Curtis household. And with entertainment like this? Who can blame us?!
The obsession with CNN and FoxNews is at an all-time high. I know, FoxNews isn't "real" news. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But it's sooooo good. The Food Network and MTV have taken a total backseat to 49 and 39 at the Curtis household. And with entertainment like this? Who can blame us?!
7.11.07
I have so many conversations throughout my day that I walk away from thinking "that's totally blogworthy" but then I either forget what was said by the time I get around to blogging (which is usually like 3 days later) or an even better conversation takes place and then I can't decide which is most blogworthy and then I think too far into it and then none of them seem blogworthy in the end.
But not this one.
It happened last night, a few Molson XXX's into the All-Star game with Matt, after watching a Hooters commercial:
Matt: When are we ever going to go to Hooters?
Me: I dunno. We need a babysitter for the dog.
Matt: You could work at Hooters.
Me: Yeah, that would be entertaining.
Matt: No seriously, Weezie, you have like the perfect personality for it.
Pause.
Pause.
Pause.
Me: Did I seriously just get reduced to the girl with the "great" personality? BY MY HUSBAND?!
He's lucky his phone rang at this point. I was too drunk to put the pieces back together by the time he got back. But seriously, WTF?!?!?!
But not this one.
It happened last night, a few Molson XXX's into the All-Star game with Matt, after watching a Hooters commercial:
Matt: When are we ever going to go to Hooters?
Me: I dunno. We need a babysitter for the dog.
Matt: You could work at Hooters.
Me: Yeah, that would be entertaining.
Matt: No seriously, Weezie, you have like the perfect personality for it.
Pause.
Pause.
Pause.
Me: Did I seriously just get reduced to the girl with the "great" personality? BY MY HUSBAND?!
He's lucky his phone rang at this point. I was too drunk to put the pieces back together by the time he got back. But seriously, WTF?!?!?!
Saturday, July 7, 2007
7.7.07
Today's 070707. Better than 060606! That was the day before my birthday last year. Why am I even blogging about this?
And yesterday was "Poop Your Pants Twice" Day. At least for one kid in my class. Why so much pooping of the pants? Don't get it. I will spare you the horrid details.
We also made Play Dough out of peanut butter and one of the other teachers, who happens to be the only male, made his into a pile of dog poop. The most realistic looking pile of crap I've ever seen on a cafeteria table, for dang sure!
Back to writing... ONE last article for the month. I could, with 100% confidence, write "How to Clean Up Poop-Filled Pants" at this point in my life. Or even "How to Detect the Pants Pooper In a Smelly Room Full of Children". "How to Decode Waddles in Accident-Prone Children"?
Sunday, July 1, 2007
7.1.07
If I could change one thing about being married to Matt... it would be his mother.
We got baptised today, which was really cool for us, despite the fact that Matt had been baptised as a baby. Yes, that's great and wonderful, but the thing is? He doesn't really remember it. So he chose to be baptised again as an independently thinking adult, making the choice for himself. We did this together.
When he told his mom tonight, her response was "What'd you do that for?"
That woman. I need a stiff, stiff... drink.
And then she wouldn't even buy anything from my Body Shop party. Little did she know it was on me! Eat that.
Friday, June 29, 2007
6.29.07 v 2.0
Just in case anyone needs to know how to be a trophy wife...
I bring you...
How To Be a Trophy Wife
By: Me
Sure, being a trophy wife may seem like a day at the spa, but the shoes of a trophy wife, albeit stylish and to die for, aren’t easy to fill. Follow these steps to see if you’ve got what it takes to become Mr. Right’s right-hand ma’am.
Steps
Step 1: Turn heads, especially his boss’s, his father’s, and all of his colleagues’. When you show up on your man’s arm, onlookers should lose their train of thought, nervously clear their throat and instinctively hide their wedding bands.
Step 2: Network, even when you’re off the clock. A company cocktail hour here and a golf fundraiser there would be a piece of cake-- fat free, at that—but the real work starts when he’s not looking. You should be networking at the salon, the country club, the gym and anywhere else where his name needs dropped.
Step 3: Nail the lawn boy. Or the pool boy or the handy man. Take your pick. You work hard for your man and he has no responsibility to thank you for it, so find someone else to thank you for your services. Just make sure he’s more ripped, has more hair and looks hot when sweaty.
Step 4: Organize parties, fundraisers and dinners, even when you haven’t seen your man in person since last week. He needs your assistance even when he’s invisible.
Step 5: Mind the three B’s: Blonde, Boobs, BMW. Keep them well-maintained and up-to-date.
Step 6: Look good in Lycra. Have your man arrange for a gym membership and use it regularly, if only to make an appearance. Order salads when in public, but don’t eat them. Over-indulge on wine and champagne. Drink coffee, coffee drinks and anything else, as long as it’s in a coffee cup. Your meals should really only consist of drinking.
I bring you...
How To Be a Trophy Wife
By: Me
Sure, being a trophy wife may seem like a day at the spa, but the shoes of a trophy wife, albeit stylish and to die for, aren’t easy to fill. Follow these steps to see if you’ve got what it takes to become Mr. Right’s right-hand ma’am.
Steps
Step 1: Turn heads, especially his boss’s, his father’s, and all of his colleagues’. When you show up on your man’s arm, onlookers should lose their train of thought, nervously clear their throat and instinctively hide their wedding bands.
Step 2: Network, even when you’re off the clock. A company cocktail hour here and a golf fundraiser there would be a piece of cake-- fat free, at that—but the real work starts when he’s not looking. You should be networking at the salon, the country club, the gym and anywhere else where his name needs dropped.
Step 3: Nail the lawn boy. Or the pool boy or the handy man. Take your pick. You work hard for your man and he has no responsibility to thank you for it, so find someone else to thank you for your services. Just make sure he’s more ripped, has more hair and looks hot when sweaty.
Step 4: Organize parties, fundraisers and dinners, even when you haven’t seen your man in person since last week. He needs your assistance even when he’s invisible.
Step 5: Mind the three B’s: Blonde, Boobs, BMW. Keep them well-maintained and up-to-date.
Step 6: Look good in Lycra. Have your man arrange for a gym membership and use it regularly, if only to make an appearance. Order salads when in public, but don’t eat them. Over-indulge on wine and champagne. Drink coffee, coffee drinks and anything else, as long as it’s in a coffee cup. Your meals should really only consist of drinking.
6.29.07
Today we took 30,000 children to the Columbus Zoo. And then Matt called me on my way home to see if I wanted to go out for pizza and beer with our 70 yr old neighbors. OF COURSE, duh! And then I pulled onto our street and found Matt sitting with not 1, not 2, but 3 neighbors over the age of 70, possibly 80, drinking beers in our driveway. And they had him surrounded in their lawn chairs. (The plaid kind with the scratchy, woven, ribbony seats that creak when you sit down.) And he was loving every moment of it.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
6.28.07
Ahhh, my day off has been glorious. Despite having to work... but really? I enjoy the work so much that it doesn't really seem so much like working. I don't have to deal with poop, boogers or barf... I can be inside, perfectly air conditionalized... and I don't have to hold my pee for 5 hours or until I can find a second to dash to the restroom before all hell breaks loose.
We rented 3 movies to watch tonight. There is 1 video store in Logan (seriously, 1! what kind of town is this!?!?) and it's so cheap that we rented 3 new releases for 3 nights for... $3. No lie. Summer Special. And because Matt is trying for the Husband of the Year award, he let me pick out Little Miss Sunshine, Because I Said So, and Music & Lyrics. I debated whether to throw in Failure to Launch, but then I remembered that I only get one day off, not 16.
And now... it's Miller Time.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
6.26.07
Teacher: What are some things we could say in our cards for the nursing home residents? Remember you can color a kangaroo, puppy, turtle, bear, bumble bee or flower and paste it to construction paper, so it could say something like "Have a Hoppy Day!" or "You're Bee-utiful!"
Anonymous Boy #1: Ooh! How about "Hop to Heaven!"
Matt and Katie burst into laughter.
Teacher: OK, any other ideas?
Anonymous Boy #2: Happy Retirement?
Matt and Katie burst into audible laughter.
Please tell me this is as funny retold as it was in person. I really hope I don't need to end this with "Guess you had to be there." Because that would be so disappointing.
Anonymous Boy #1: Ooh! How about "Hop to Heaven!"
Matt and Katie burst into laughter.
Teacher: OK, any other ideas?
Anonymous Boy #2: Happy Retirement?
Matt and Katie burst into audible laughter.
Please tell me this is as funny retold as it was in person. I really hope I don't need to end this with "Guess you had to be there." Because that would be so disappointing.
Monday, June 25, 2007
6.25.07
It's been 9 days since my last confession. Yawn. Pardon me.
My life is just... so... much! I love it though. I do. I love my job, I love going, I love being there, I love what I do while I'm there. So I can't complain. I'm just exhausted, that's all. And then I have to cram a week's worth of work for my second job into 2, sometimes 1 day... and that's a lot, guys! Especially when it's creative work that requires me to a) think, b) put sentences together, and c) functioning internet connection.
But anyway, the whole point of today's post is to share 3 things with you, all of which happened in one day of work. Today, to be specific.
1. I found out that one little girl, who lives with her grandmother, was taken away from her mother because last year her mom put her 4 year old brother in a dumpster and left him there. Thankfully, he was reported missing and it was all over the news, so someone found him. SO sad.
2. Another little girl, 5 years old, asked to go potty in a panic. She's got a history of accusing teachers of inappropriate behavior (you don't have to think too hard), so we can never be alone with her. I grabbed a 4th grader to go in the bathroom with me and thank goodness I did because after a good 5 minutes of "trying" to go potty, I told her time was up and to come on out and wash her hands. She hopped off the potty and announced "It'w have to wait 'tiw tomowwow." "What will have to wait?" I asked. "My doo doo. It's too big for today." The other girl just looked at me horrified. And I don't blame her.
3. We took the kids to a nursing home to sing songs from last week's musical and about 1 minute into the first song I noticed an elderly woman in her wheel chair in the back row... naked. Bless her heart, I have no idea what she was trying to do, but I looked at my buddy teacher, Matt, and did the "don't-move-your-lips" mutter and said "that woman isn't wearing a shirt." He notified staff member and within .0005 seconds there was a team of nurses bolting to get her decent. Poor woman. But seriously, it was so uncomfortable. Thankfully the kids were facing the opposite direction and saw nothing of the boobs. (The boobs! Poor woman's nimples were MIA after all these years.)
4. One of my most challening kids (Andrea, it's the chicken catoris kid) came whimpering over to me during song practice complaining that he needed ice for his toe because it was going "up and down." I hate when that happens!
5. My favorite girl, upon entering a bathroom stall (seriously, my whole day revolves around the damn toilet) came back out and asked "What is that, Miss Katie?" "What is what, Vivian?" "That thing in the toilet." I looked, realized it was a nugget and told her to use the next stall. Clearly she wasn't satisfied and asked again "But what was it?" "I think you know what it was," I responded trying my best to end the conversation before anyone else heard. Still not satisfied, she asked "Is it candy?" with eyes as big as lollipops! I couldn't help but burst into laughter, as I often do with this job, and said "No!! Not even close!" "Poop?" she realized. "Yes, it's poop, Viv."
6. The sister of the doo doo girl informed another girl that she had big fat boobs that were squooshy. Then she demonstrated with her hands just how big and squooshy they truly were. (Keep in mind, this is the sister of the law suit girl, and the culprit of her own law suit against a teacher.)
OK, that turned into 6. But the stories just kept comin! All in a day's work:)
My life is just... so... much! I love it though. I do. I love my job, I love going, I love being there, I love what I do while I'm there. So I can't complain. I'm just exhausted, that's all. And then I have to cram a week's worth of work for my second job into 2, sometimes 1 day... and that's a lot, guys! Especially when it's creative work that requires me to a) think, b) put sentences together, and c) functioning internet connection.
But anyway, the whole point of today's post is to share 3 things with you, all of which happened in one day of work. Today, to be specific.
1. I found out that one little girl, who lives with her grandmother, was taken away from her mother because last year her mom put her 4 year old brother in a dumpster and left him there. Thankfully, he was reported missing and it was all over the news, so someone found him. SO sad.
2. Another little girl, 5 years old, asked to go potty in a panic. She's got a history of accusing teachers of inappropriate behavior (you don't have to think too hard), so we can never be alone with her. I grabbed a 4th grader to go in the bathroom with me and thank goodness I did because after a good 5 minutes of "trying" to go potty, I told her time was up and to come on out and wash her hands. She hopped off the potty and announced "It'w have to wait 'tiw tomowwow." "What will have to wait?" I asked. "My doo doo. It's too big for today." The other girl just looked at me horrified. And I don't blame her.
3. We took the kids to a nursing home to sing songs from last week's musical and about 1 minute into the first song I noticed an elderly woman in her wheel chair in the back row... naked. Bless her heart, I have no idea what she was trying to do, but I looked at my buddy teacher, Matt, and did the "don't-move-your-lips" mutter and said "that woman isn't wearing a shirt." He notified staff member and within .0005 seconds there was a team of nurses bolting to get her decent. Poor woman. But seriously, it was so uncomfortable. Thankfully the kids were facing the opposite direction and saw nothing of the boobs. (The boobs! Poor woman's nimples were MIA after all these years.)
4. One of my most challening kids (Andrea, it's the chicken catoris kid) came whimpering over to me during song practice complaining that he needed ice for his toe because it was going "up and down." I hate when that happens!
5. My favorite girl, upon entering a bathroom stall (seriously, my whole day revolves around the damn toilet) came back out and asked "What is that, Miss Katie?" "What is what, Vivian?" "That thing in the toilet." I looked, realized it was a nugget and told her to use the next stall. Clearly she wasn't satisfied and asked again "But what was it?" "I think you know what it was," I responded trying my best to end the conversation before anyone else heard. Still not satisfied, she asked "Is it candy?" with eyes as big as lollipops! I couldn't help but burst into laughter, as I often do with this job, and said "No!! Not even close!" "Poop?" she realized. "Yes, it's poop, Viv."
6. The sister of the doo doo girl informed another girl that she had big fat boobs that were squooshy. Then she demonstrated with her hands just how big and squooshy they truly were. (Keep in mind, this is the sister of the law suit girl, and the culprit of her own law suit against a teacher.)
OK, that turned into 6. But the stories just kept comin! All in a day's work:)
Saturday, June 16, 2007
6.16.07
"Universal" remotes are so NOT universal. If they were, anyone would be able to figure them out... no matter where they're dogsitting. For now, I can watch the same golf game (match?) on channels 3, 33, 66 and 104. Lotta good that does me! And in the den I can watch a black screen that says "Video 4". Good stuff.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
6.14.07
OK, not really! I actually still love my job, aside from the whole 9 hours a day, no lunch break, constant noise issue. The kids are amazingly sweet, even "that" annoying one who manages to work on my last nerve over and over again. There have been days when I probably said "his" name twenty times. Oh man, I'm getting tired just rehashing it..
So yeah, this new J.O.B., although fun and incredibly rewarding, sucks every last bit of energy out of my bod. Today we went on a field trip to an archery shooting range (yeah, with 1st graders) and during the bus ride there, about 3 minutes into one of the 3rd graders gabbing to me non-stop about I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT, I pulled my sunglasses down over my eyes and promptly fell asleep. The drive lasted all of 10 minutes, but those 5 solid minutes of sleep were fantastic. When I woke up, Mallory was STILL talking, so I smiled and nodded... and then she took my hand, looked up at me, and smiled that "You're my best friend, Miss Katie" smile. I almost felt like a jerk, but I was just. too. tired. to feel anything.
But then I think about how sweet it is to see all these kids, many of whom go to school at the academy there, which is part of our church, get SO excited about God. A lot of them know more than I do! Who can name the fruits of the spirit? Becuase little Vivian? Can. and she's like barely 6 years old. (Turns out pineapple, mango and peaches are NOT fruits of the spirit.) They played this Bible game today where they had to look up John 3:16 in their little pocket Bibles... as a way to help them learn where the books of the Bible are (ok, i really suck at this game) and it was completely silent except for the flipping of the paper-thin miniature Bible pages. They were so into it that I had goosebumps up and down my arms:)
So tomorrow is movie and PJ day and you betta baleeeev I'll be there rockin' my jammies. And to think, just weeks ago wearing pjs to work was an everyday occurrence.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
6.13.07
A couple days ago I was driving to work and got sprayed by the car in front of me washing its windshield. This set off a chain reaction as I then had to wash my windshield in order to see and then the guy behind me had to wash his. I was annoyed at the guy in front of me, but then I realized the guy behind me was probably just as annoyed with me. So then I wondered... is there windshield cleaning etiquette? Should you do this only when you're stopped? Or maybe just wait til there's no one behind you on the road?
Sunday, June 10, 2007
6.10.07
I start my newest job tomorrow... and it's really nice not being nervous about my capabilities, considering that playing with kids is about the least intimidating job I can think of. I am, however, nervous that I'm going to screw up my alarm clock and/or forget my lunch in the fridge. I haven't used an alarm clock in over 2 years... and lunch is usually heated up leftovers or a Lean Pocket. And now that I have a REAL lunch box, I can't be going Lean Pocket on that bad boy. And add to it all the fact that Matt is gone alllllllllll week in a remote location in Canadialand with no phone, no electricity (not even indoor plumbing!)... I can't even count on him to wake me up or bring me my lunch if I forget it:( I so miss my Mom.
Also, I thought we had lunch meat in the fridge, so I went to make my sandwich and I was wrong, with the exception of 2 slices of pepperoni. PB&J it is.
Also, I thought we had lunch meat in the fridge, so I went to make my sandwich and I was wrong, with the exception of 2 slices of pepperoni. PB&J it is.
6.10.07
You know gas is expensive when you realize 30 minutes after filling up that you never even bothered to look at the price. They all suck so bad I don't even pay attention.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
6.7.07
It's my birthday!!!!!!!! I'm officially (hopefully) one quarter of the way into my life. Hopfully not more! I've got things to accomplish in this lifetime that cannot happen within the next 60 years. I need at least 75. Things like turning 100 and having my great great grandkids beg me to take out my teeth at their birthday parties! And I'd have to be at least 100 to think that would be a good idea.
My neighbor Vera is the cuuuutest woman I know. Seriously, well, other than my momma. But my mom doesn't live 3 houses down from me nor does she take me to lunch to celebrate my new job and give me a present. A PRESENT! And not just ANY present... but THIS present:
It's the one on the left... the Vera Bradley lunch box that matches my Vera Bradley bag with the matching Vera Bradley wallet that Vera gave me as a Get Well present after my surgery (she said "screw flowers!"). She told me every teacher needs a cute lunch box and now I will have just that!
OK, then on the right? That is my other new VB bag... which I hope will double as a small diaper bag around this time next year (ok, maybe a couple more months). Because when I am of the diaper-bag carrying age, I refuse to carry anything with Winnie the Pooh on it. But here's the most amazing part of the story. That bag? On the right? Was originally $84. But thanks to Vera, my gift angel, I had a $50 gift certificate from watching her dog, PLUS it was 25% off, so it cost me an entire $17. Stick that in your juice box and suck it! Eh, that was a little harsh. I just really wanted to say it.
My neighbor Vera is the cuuuutest woman I know. Seriously, well, other than my momma. But my mom doesn't live 3 houses down from me nor does she take me to lunch to celebrate my new job and give me a present. A PRESENT! And not just ANY present... but THIS present:
It's the one on the left... the Vera Bradley lunch box that matches my Vera Bradley bag with the matching Vera Bradley wallet that Vera gave me as a Get Well present after my surgery (she said "screw flowers!"). She told me every teacher needs a cute lunch box and now I will have just that!
OK, then on the right? That is my other new VB bag... which I hope will double as a small diaper bag around this time next year (ok, maybe a couple more months). Because when I am of the diaper-bag carrying age, I refuse to carry anything with Winnie the Pooh on it. But here's the most amazing part of the story. That bag? On the right? Was originally $84. But thanks to Vera, my gift angel, I had a $50 gift certificate from watching her dog, PLUS it was 25% off, so it cost me an entire $17. Stick that in your juice box and suck it! Eh, that was a little harsh. I just really wanted to say it.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
6.6.07
Sometimes yogurt grosses me out when I start to think about what I'm eating. It's usually about halfway into the container. I can sense my brain heading in that direction, so I try to fight it and shovel in another spoonful so I can get it down before my brain starts sounding "Glop! Glop! Glop!" Once I get there, it's all over. I never, ever, finish a full container of yogurt.
Also? Tomorrow's my birthday. There will be NO yogurt tomorrow.
Also? Tomorrow's my birthday. There will be NO yogurt tomorrow.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
ohmanohmanohmanohman
Deep breaths.
I had the world's worst dream this morning. Which is why I'm awake and blogging at 5:43AM. Here it goes.
I was camping with Christina and George (from Grey's) and George was going to propose to Christina, but she was being all Christina so George sent me in to slap some sense into her and make her get with it. But actually, in the process of making George feel better about everything, we hooked up. Jeez, that's so Izzy of me. But yeah, it happened and I sorta fell in love with him, but still had to make things good with Christina, which was very frustrating, but since I was stricken with guilt and shame, I had no choice. This part of the dream goes on for a very long time and really isn't that important. Just funny because I was camping with George and Christina. OH! I just remembered-- the thing I had to convince Christina about was that after the wedding they were going to live in a pup tent.
The awful part comes next. I was in the wilderness with Midas and a bunch of other Golden Retrievers and their owners. All the sudden elephants started wandering around us so Midas took off after one of them. I got him to come back to me, but then the elephants started charging at us. But then they got distracted by elephant poachers, but then the poachers came after US. They shot me with a tranquilizer spit dart (in my leg. it was turquoise.) and started torturing Midas and then made me kiss him goodbye. I was like one of those National Geographic women yelling "Jesus, Oh Jesus Oh God Oh Jesus!" and it was awful. I forced myself to wake up before it got worse (thank God) and, sobbing, went searching for Midas and brought him back to bed with me.
Then I started to wonder... why in the HELL did I dream this? So I googled Dream Analysis and found this:
"To see an elephant in your dream, suggests that you either need to be more patient and understanding of others. The elephant is also a symbol of power, strength, and intellect. Alternatively, as a creature with an introverted nature, the elephant may thus be depicting your own personality."
**Well, I HAD just hooked up with Christina's fiance, so I oughtta be a little more understanding of others. But what's up with "Poaching" not being on the dream analysis list?**
"To dream that you are being tortured, indicates that you are feeling victimized or helpless in some relationship or situation. Alternatively, you may be exhibiting some sadomasochistic desires.
To dream that you are torturing others or see others being tortured, suggests that you are punishing yourself for your own negative or bad habits. You are projecting yourself onto the person or animal being tortured. Consider the symbolism of who is being tortured. Alternatively, the dream may indicate repressed feelings of revenge which you are not able to act on in your waking life. "
**Well, I don't think I'm exhibiting any sadomasochistic desires, but that second part is pretty accurate considering I'm a whore who had sex with my best friend's fiance!**
And lastly, "To wake up crying, represents some suppressed hurt or previous trauma that is coming up to the surface. You can no longer suppress these emotions. They need to be dealt with head on."
I have no idea. I guess I love my dog too much and I'm skerred of losing him. I told him the other day that he had to live to be 103. Maybe this is a sign that it's not going to happen.
I'm so depressed now. Thanks for the awesome dream analysis, jerk wads!
I had the world's worst dream this morning. Which is why I'm awake and blogging at 5:43AM. Here it goes.
I was camping with Christina and George (from Grey's) and George was going to propose to Christina, but she was being all Christina so George sent me in to slap some sense into her and make her get with it. But actually, in the process of making George feel better about everything, we hooked up. Jeez, that's so Izzy of me. But yeah, it happened and I sorta fell in love with him, but still had to make things good with Christina, which was very frustrating, but since I was stricken with guilt and shame, I had no choice. This part of the dream goes on for a very long time and really isn't that important. Just funny because I was camping with George and Christina. OH! I just remembered-- the thing I had to convince Christina about was that after the wedding they were going to live in a pup tent.
The awful part comes next. I was in the wilderness with Midas and a bunch of other Golden Retrievers and their owners. All the sudden elephants started wandering around us so Midas took off after one of them. I got him to come back to me, but then the elephants started charging at us. But then they got distracted by elephant poachers, but then the poachers came after US. They shot me with a tranquilizer spit dart (in my leg. it was turquoise.) and started torturing Midas and then made me kiss him goodbye. I was like one of those National Geographic women yelling "Jesus, Oh Jesus Oh God Oh Jesus!" and it was awful. I forced myself to wake up before it got worse (thank God) and, sobbing, went searching for Midas and brought him back to bed with me.
Then I started to wonder... why in the HELL did I dream this? So I googled Dream Analysis and found this:
"To see an elephant in your dream, suggests that you either need to be more patient and understanding of others. The elephant is also a symbol of power, strength, and intellect. Alternatively, as a creature with an introverted nature, the elephant may thus be depicting your own personality."
**Well, I HAD just hooked up with Christina's fiance, so I oughtta be a little more understanding of others. But what's up with "Poaching" not being on the dream analysis list?**
"To dream that you are being tortured, indicates that you are feeling victimized or helpless in some relationship or situation. Alternatively, you may be exhibiting some sadomasochistic desires.
To dream that you are torturing others or see others being tortured, suggests that you are punishing yourself for your own negative or bad habits. You are projecting yourself onto the person or animal being tortured. Consider the symbolism of who is being tortured. Alternatively, the dream may indicate repressed feelings of revenge which you are not able to act on in your waking life. "
**Well, I don't think I'm exhibiting any sadomasochistic desires, but that second part is pretty accurate considering I'm a whore who had sex with my best friend's fiance!**
And lastly, "To wake up crying, represents some suppressed hurt or previous trauma that is coming up to the surface. You can no longer suppress these emotions. They need to be dealt with head on."
I have no idea. I guess I love my dog too much and I'm skerred of losing him. I told him the other day that he had to live to be 103. Maybe this is a sign that it's not going to happen.
I'm so depressed now. Thanks for the awesome dream analysis, jerk wads!
Saturday, June 2, 2007
I got Knocked Up!!
Well, so to speak. Yesterday Andrea and I had a Hetero Lifemate reunion to celebrate the 3rd anniversary of our HL'ship. We officially met at Beacon on our first day of our first job out of college and we've been BFF's ever since! I think when we got yelled at for whispering too loudly in our cubicle hallway so I resorted to tossing paper balls with snarky messages over the top (or was it under the bottom?) of our cubes... that's what sealed the deal for her. And when Andrea referred to episodes of the Golden Girls and Dawson's Creek and hot dogs being thrown down the hallway, that did it for me.
But anyway, back to getting knocked up. We met up for lunch at Polaris, had a specialty brew with our sammies, then headed over to see the greatest new release of the summer... KNOCKED UP. Ohmyfreakinggawd, it's so good. F-bombs galore and lots of pot smoking and even one horrendous scene involving a head emerging from a stretched out vajayjay (holy mother of God)... but side-splittingly fantanstic. Go see it. And take a dood... he'll love it too. Except for the vajayjay part. That part may make him never want to go near your jujubee ever again.
Plus, how can you not like a movie with Izzy Stephens? I just want to be her friend in real life. That's all.
And how can this picture not make you laugh?! SERIOUSLY!
But anyway, back to getting knocked up. We met up for lunch at Polaris, had a specialty brew with our sammies, then headed over to see the greatest new release of the summer... KNOCKED UP. Ohmyfreakinggawd, it's so good. F-bombs galore and lots of pot smoking and even one horrendous scene involving a head emerging from a stretched out vajayjay (holy mother of God)... but side-splittingly fantanstic. Go see it. And take a dood... he'll love it too. Except for the vajayjay part. That part may make him never want to go near your jujubee ever again.
Plus, how can you not like a movie with Izzy Stephens? I just want to be her friend in real life. That's all.
And how can this picture not make you laugh?! SERIOUSLY!
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Tuberculosis???
So evidently there's this guy who is from the US but went on a honeymoon out of the country and came back with TB... or something awful like that. The story is so confusing to me, but I guess the logistics aren't as important as this guy getting better. It caught my attention though because I had to get a TB test on Tuesday which meant I had to go get it "read" today, on the same day that this story broke out.
I've always thought it was kind of wierd when people said they were getting their TB test "read" or that they were getting the results of their TB test. I mean, all the nurse does is run her finger over your skin and send you on your way. There's no reading or resulting involved, really. I feel like I've had an unusually massive amount of TB tests done in my lifetime... perhaps because I moved every 5 minutes growing up. But anyway, I now I understand the meaning of having a TB test "read" after my near-TB experience today!
I had noticed that my arm was redder than usual at the injection site, but figured I was just being paranoid. But when the nurse ran her finger over the spot, looked up at the ceiling with a puzzled expression, then repeated this a couple more times, I started to get a little worried! If I have TB I obviously can't go live it up at Adventure Day Camp with all the rugrats, which also means I'd be broker than a joker. She called in for backup and had another nurse come check me out. They asked me if it felt sore... I of course lied and said "No" even though the bright red spot on my arm made it pretty obvious. And the fact that they had been shovering their fingers into my skin for the past 3 minutes didn't help. They also asked if I had been in contact with anyone who had TB lately (um, don't they have to be quarrentined?!) I probably would have lied about that too, but I didn't have to because no, I have not been around any TB victims.
So anyway, the nurse gets out this little TB ruler that looked kind of like one of those body fat measurer things. She felt me up a little more, then marked the bump and measured it. I was seriously sitting there goinng "ohgodohgodohgod" to myself when the first nurse fessed up that she had been getting positive TB tests for 41 years but has never had TB. Good info. As it turned out, the bump wasn't big enough... it was only a 5 cm and needed to be 15 in order to be positive, but still... freaky! Especially since Matt had a close call with TB a year ago at the Franklin County Health Dpt... surrounded by hundreds Somolians hacking up every last bit of lung they could. He, too, had to be checked twice to be sure he was OK.
Gosh, that was a really long TB story. But seriously, guys! Maybe this is more normal than I had thought all these years. I dunno.
I've always thought it was kind of wierd when people said they were getting their TB test "read" or that they were getting the results of their TB test. I mean, all the nurse does is run her finger over your skin and send you on your way. There's no reading or resulting involved, really. I feel like I've had an unusually massive amount of TB tests done in my lifetime... perhaps because I moved every 5 minutes growing up. But anyway, I now I understand the meaning of having a TB test "read" after my near-TB experience today!
I had noticed that my arm was redder than usual at the injection site, but figured I was just being paranoid. But when the nurse ran her finger over the spot, looked up at the ceiling with a puzzled expression, then repeated this a couple more times, I started to get a little worried! If I have TB I obviously can't go live it up at Adventure Day Camp with all the rugrats, which also means I'd be broker than a joker. She called in for backup and had another nurse come check me out. They asked me if it felt sore... I of course lied and said "No" even though the bright red spot on my arm made it pretty obvious. And the fact that they had been shovering their fingers into my skin for the past 3 minutes didn't help. They also asked if I had been in contact with anyone who had TB lately (um, don't they have to be quarrentined?!) I probably would have lied about that too, but I didn't have to because no, I have not been around any TB victims.
So anyway, the nurse gets out this little TB ruler that looked kind of like one of those body fat measurer things. She felt me up a little more, then marked the bump and measured it. I was seriously sitting there goinng "ohgodohgodohgod" to myself when the first nurse fessed up that she had been getting positive TB tests for 41 years but has never had TB. Good info. As it turned out, the bump wasn't big enough... it was only a 5 cm and needed to be 15 in order to be positive, but still... freaky! Especially since Matt had a close call with TB a year ago at the Franklin County Health Dpt... surrounded by hundreds Somolians hacking up every last bit of lung they could. He, too, had to be checked twice to be sure he was OK.
Gosh, that was a really long TB story. But seriously, guys! Maybe this is more normal than I had thought all these years. I dunno.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
About darn time!
Holy crap, it's me:) As you can imagine, during my unemployment gig, I really didn't have much to talk about! My days consisted of watching the entire season of Brothers and Sisters online, vegging in the sun on the lake with molly, searching for jobs... nothing too noteworthy. But NOW folks? I'm back in action. And maybe my genious thoughts will reappear!
My new job, which I've officially been doing for a week is for a publishing company that owns ehow.com. I write for them:) I'ts SOOOO fun. Today I wrote an article called How to Cool a Cake. I have one coming up on caring for a new tattoo, but after I picked it up, I realized that just because I have a tattoo doesn't really mean I know anything about them. But have no fear, I will be all over that tomorrow.
In June I start a Summer Camp program, which will be a barrell of laughs. Kids are psychotic, but they make me laugh and they make for good story telling at the dinner table. Not that we eat at a dinner table. Do you guys eat at a dinner table? We eat at our bar. Or the couch. But never the dinner table.
Then in the fall, I'll be in the pre-school classroom with the little ones during the morning and the older kids in the afternoon. I'm very excited to have fun jobs that make me use my brain and won't contribute to my fat assness:) Speaking of fat assness, I really need to curb my foul language pronto as this new job in June? Is at our church. Details. Have I mentioned I'm also required to minister to the children and families? Just call me Rev Fun.
My new job, which I've officially been doing for a week is for a publishing company that owns ehow.com. I write for them:) I'ts SOOOO fun. Today I wrote an article called How to Cool a Cake. I have one coming up on caring for a new tattoo, but after I picked it up, I realized that just because I have a tattoo doesn't really mean I know anything about them. But have no fear, I will be all over that tomorrow.
In June I start a Summer Camp program, which will be a barrell of laughs. Kids are psychotic, but they make me laugh and they make for good story telling at the dinner table. Not that we eat at a dinner table. Do you guys eat at a dinner table? We eat at our bar. Or the couch. But never the dinner table.
Then in the fall, I'll be in the pre-school classroom with the little ones during the morning and the older kids in the afternoon. I'm very excited to have fun jobs that make me use my brain and won't contribute to my fat assness:) Speaking of fat assness, I really need to curb my foul language pronto as this new job in June? Is at our church. Details. Have I mentioned I'm also required to minister to the children and families? Just call me Rev Fun.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Phew!
So it has been a roller-coaster ride of a week, to say the least. In the past 7 days of unemployment, I've gone from sobbing like Nancy Kerrigan (whhhhhhyyy whhhhyyyy whhhyyyy???) to "who really gives a shit?" to "I'm kinda liking this!" to "I can't wait for tomorrow!" And at the lowest of the low points, my great friends were there to scoop me up, get that dirt off my shoulder, smack me on the ass and say "get back in the game, tiger". And I've only reached the highest points becuase of those very friends doing those very things.
Tomorrow I have an interview and immediately following it, I'm takin' my car, and I'm takin' my dawg, and we're headed to mommy and daddy's to spend a weekend on the lake. And Thursday Molly is coming and we're going to bask in our unemployment, sipping margaritas, getting tans, and reading Star magazine. And maybe applying for unemployment... why not?? Everyone else does it. OK, maybe not. Hopefully I will return home employed on Sunday, ready to start my new life and my new J.O.B. on Monday!
And at THAT point, I will finally be able tell Beacon to TAKE THIS JOB AND SHOVE IT! And all will be right in the world:)
Tomorrow I have an interview and immediately following it, I'm takin' my car, and I'm takin' my dawg, and we're headed to mommy and daddy's to spend a weekend on the lake. And Thursday Molly is coming and we're going to bask in our unemployment, sipping margaritas, getting tans, and reading Star magazine. And maybe applying for unemployment... why not?? Everyone else does it. OK, maybe not. Hopefully I will return home employed on Sunday, ready to start my new life and my new J.O.B. on Monday!
And at THAT point, I will finally be able tell Beacon to TAKE THIS JOB AND SHOVE IT! And all will be right in the world:)
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Squirrel heaven?
I hit a squirrel today:( I heard the crunch and everything... and then I had to drive past it 3 times. And... it was a baby:(
Luck is not on my side these days!
Luck is not on my side these days!
Monday, April 30, 2007
i have no title
This morning I was at Wal-Mart this morning buying spray paint for a wicker table that I just bought and then after the first rain, all the paint washed off it. Anyway, I bought:
- chewy dog treats
- crunchy dog treats
- raw hide dog treats
- a contraption with which to tie up the dog at the lake tonight
- salt and vinegar chips
- celery and carrots, already chopped because I'm lazy
- dog toy that had no price tag and ended up being the most expensive item in my cart.
- a 6-pack of IBC cream soda. our wal-mart is in a dry square mile. i try to boycott as much as possible.
- spray paint
So, as you see, I was buying normal items. And I obviously have a thing for my dog. But as the cashier was ringing up all my goods, she got to the spray paint and asked me if I was 18. I told her yes and she told me she would need ID. So I gave it to her and she LOL'ed and said "Goodness, I guess so! Ya sure don't look 18."
I know, I know. I have chubby cheeks and blonde curly hair. Evidently that makes me look like a minor. Also, when I was in college, I went to a Chinese restaurant with my parents and our waitress asked if I wanted the 12 and under buffet.
I'm sure I'll appreciate it someday. But if I ever get mistaken for a 12-year old when buying condoms, it might be a little awkward. Especially if I also have those first 4 items in my cart.
- chewy dog treats
- crunchy dog treats
- raw hide dog treats
- a contraption with which to tie up the dog at the lake tonight
- salt and vinegar chips
- celery and carrots, already chopped because I'm lazy
- dog toy that had no price tag and ended up being the most expensive item in my cart.
- a 6-pack of IBC cream soda. our wal-mart is in a dry square mile. i try to boycott as much as possible.
- spray paint
So, as you see, I was buying normal items. And I obviously have a thing for my dog. But as the cashier was ringing up all my goods, she got to the spray paint and asked me if I was 18. I told her yes and she told me she would need ID. So I gave it to her and she LOL'ed and said "Goodness, I guess so! Ya sure don't look 18."
I know, I know. I have chubby cheeks and blonde curly hair. Evidently that makes me look like a minor. Also, when I was in college, I went to a Chinese restaurant with my parents and our waitress asked if I wanted the 12 and under buffet.
I'm sure I'll appreciate it someday. But if I ever get mistaken for a 12-year old when buying condoms, it might be a little awkward. Especially if I also have those first 4 items in my cart.
Friday, April 27, 2007
TGIF'ers
Today is FINALLY Friday. It's been a long week, kids! But in approximately 3 hours and 12 minutes, I will be enjoying happy hour at Applebees. And, as any Wittenberg Tiger could tell you, half-price apps and beer is a celebration in and of itself:) But what's even better is that afterwards? We have no plans. And since last night the never-ending storm coverage prevented Grey's Anatomy from airing, I get to come home (quite happily might I add... hence the happy... hour... YEAH, so anyway) and watch Grey's. In my pajamas. And then fall asleep at 9:00. Because tomorrow? We're babysitting our 1 and 3 yr. old cousins... for a full 24 hours. And while they might take 3 naps a day, I am guessing 3 won't be nearly enough for me.
But also? Last night when the tornadoes made their way to our neck of the woods, and the sirens were going off, and the news was telling us to get away from the windows and seek shelter, and I was laying in bed 12 inches from the window, and then the news shut off and we got an emergency message that cut out ALL of our cable and forced us to go "take shelter" out of boredom, we sat in the bathroom. Matt crammed himself in the bathtub and did Sudoku puzzles and I pointed and laughed for 10 minutes. He wouldn't let me dash out and get my camera, although, I probably could've done it fast enough to make it back before he managed to squeeze himself out of the tub because let me tell you... picture a 6'3" man with tennis shoes on jammed into a bathtub doing Soduko with his knees to his waist, his feet against the faucet, and making comments about delivering a baby... I mean, come on. Actually, stop. Something isn't right about that whole "picture my husband in a bathtub" game.
the end.
But also? Last night when the tornadoes made their way to our neck of the woods, and the sirens were going off, and the news was telling us to get away from the windows and seek shelter, and I was laying in bed 12 inches from the window, and then the news shut off and we got an emergency message that cut out ALL of our cable and forced us to go "take shelter" out of boredom, we sat in the bathroom. Matt crammed himself in the bathtub and did Sudoku puzzles and I pointed and laughed for 10 minutes. He wouldn't let me dash out and get my camera, although, I probably could've done it fast enough to make it back before he managed to squeeze himself out of the tub because let me tell you... picture a 6'3" man with tennis shoes on jammed into a bathtub doing Soduko with his knees to his waist, his feet against the faucet, and making comments about delivering a baby... I mean, come on. Actually, stop. Something isn't right about that whole "picture my husband in a bathtub" game.
the end.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Who knew?
I'm trying to find airfare for Matt, my parents and myself for Christmas when we go to Lake Tahoe. Of course when I started looking two weeks ago, the rates were manageable, but then they went up the very next day and haven't come back down:( And probably won't! We're also trying to find a place to board our dogs, which is something we've never ever done before and we're a little tense about it. Currently our top pick is a Pet Resort where all three dogs will stay together in dawg townhouse. They'll have a toddler bed, a tv turned to Animal Planet, Yappy Hour treats (my fave!), a parkside view (ok, so it's a fake, indoor park, but it's still so cute!), and bed time treats. We could even pay extra for a web cam, but come on, isn't that a bit extreme?? (my brain is screaming "DO EET! DO EET!")
Have you ever seen such a thing?! I might just opt out of skiing and soaking in the hot springs, and drinking myself silly at the mountain top sports bars, or winning (read: losing) tons of money at the casino to stay with the dogs. HAHAHA, that was funny.
This one? Is the lobby.
For those of you who may not be familiar with dog toys, that is a Kong, not a pile of dog poop.
Concierge??
But anyway, I've been using two REALLY helpful websites to search for airfare and I want to pass them along! They are www.sidestep.com and www.travelzoo.com. Both search a bunch of the travel websites (like orbitz, expedia, etc.) for you and compile them into one giant search so you don't have to do it yourself:) It's the ulitimate in internet laziness! But seriously, between the two, they cover all the good websites, plus some I've never even heard of. Check, check, check it out!
Have you ever seen such a thing?! I might just opt out of skiing and soaking in the hot springs, and drinking myself silly at the mountain top sports bars, or winning (read: losing) tons of money at the casino to stay with the dogs. HAHAHA, that was funny.
This one? Is the lobby.
For those of you who may not be familiar with dog toys, that is a Kong, not a pile of dog poop.
Concierge??But anyway, I've been using two REALLY helpful websites to search for airfare and I want to pass them along! They are www.sidestep.com and www.travelzoo.com. Both search a bunch of the travel websites (like orbitz, expedia, etc.) for you and compile them into one giant search so you don't have to do it yourself:) It's the ulitimate in internet laziness! But seriously, between the two, they cover all the good websites, plus some I've never even heard of. Check, check, check it out!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Logan, Arizona?
The landscapers have started replacing all the mulch in our neighborhood with gravel... and it looks horrendous. If I wanted to live in the desert, I'd move to Arizona. It's really ugly. At the risk of muscle-shirt-sunglasses-wearing-creepy guy seeing me and thinking I was taking his picture, I took one anyway. My zoom is sucky though, so squint real hard and you can see all the way on the left side of the house where the gravel starts and looks like someone took a huge pee in the flower bed. The mulch is much prettier, much more contrasting. But evidently mulch is expensive and rocks aren't. Also take note of MSSWC guy on all fours... he thinks he is pure sex.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Earth Day!
"The ultimate test of man's conscience may be his willingness to sacrifice something today for future generations whose words of thanks will not be heard."
The Curtis household (population 2) has officially been full-blown recyclers for 1 week (partial recyclers for a few months) and it feels good be to green!
Did you know that electrical appliances that are plugged into the wall suck up energy even if they aren't being used (toasters, cell phone chargers, etc.)? Unplug those bad boys and save a little energy!
Did you know that Starbucks offers an itty bitty discount if you bring in your own travel mug instead of using one of theirs? It's not much, but you can feel good about helping the environment in your own little way... plus that 10 cents you save... boy, oh boy... ok, maybe not the hugest selling point, but a bargain is a bargain!
We've been taking our paper goods to our church so the Christian school that it's affiliated with can get fundraiser $$ for recycling them. Check out www.earth911.org for your local recycling programs:)
The Curtis household (population 2) has officially been full-blown recyclers for 1 week (partial recyclers for a few months) and it feels good be to green!
Did you know that electrical appliances that are plugged into the wall suck up energy even if they aren't being used (toasters, cell phone chargers, etc.)? Unplug those bad boys and save a little energy!
Did you know that Starbucks offers an itty bitty discount if you bring in your own travel mug instead of using one of theirs? It's not much, but you can feel good about helping the environment in your own little way... plus that 10 cents you save... boy, oh boy... ok, maybe not the hugest selling point, but a bargain is a bargain!
We've been taking our paper goods to our church so the Christian school that it's affiliated with can get fundraiser $$ for recycling them. Check out www.earth911.org for your local recycling programs:)
Ode to a Grecian Urn
(stolen from my sunday skewl teacher. i am not this funny on my own.)
What does a Grecian urn?
$6.50 an hour:)
What does a Grecian urn?
$6.50 an hour:)
Friday, April 20, 2007
Lube. Jiffy Lube.
Yesterday I had to get my oil changed-- I was only 2,000 miles over-- and I decided I'd pay the extra $$ to go to Valvoline Instant Oil Change so I could just stay in my car because every girl knows how NOT fun it is getting the oil changed and sitting in that waiting room staring at nothing, but trying desperately to think of people you *need* to call, but then realizing even if you do call someone it's so LOUD in those waiting rooms and everyone will hear. So anyway, I had boot camp at 6:30 and by the time I got to Valvoline it was already 5:45 and the guy came walking up to my car to tell me it would be a 30 minute wait. Wahhh. I was confused considering I was only #2 in line, but he told me their computers were down nationwide, blah blah blah. I saw visions of oil funnels, dirty filters and dollar signs and momentarily spaced out as I do every other time mechanics start talking to me. I left and went to Jiffy Lube down the street, where the wait was only 5 minutes. But something happened there that left me feeling ugly, fat, and old.
There was this g.i.r.l. (collective sigh) in the waiting room-- the only other person in there besides me. She must have been about 17 because she was on her cell phone the entire time trying to decide where she should go to eat when she left. Who talks on the phone about that kind of stuff for 20+ minutes? Seventeen year olds, that's who. But she was nice... she didn't give off that bitch vibe that most girls you don't know do. You know the vibe. Yeah, that one. She didn't give it off... for long. I would soon come to despise her.
When her car was done, she got up and went to the counter. Now, she and I were both dressed in workout clothes, but her workout clothes were quite different than my workout clothes. While I was in faded yoga pants, an old Wittenberg tshirt and a mismatched fleece pull-over, she had on cut off sweats, bright white running shoes (that screamed "I go to the gym to look pretty), a black sports bra barely covered by her cut-off t-shirt. And when I say cut-off I don't mean the way guys cut the sleeves off... she made hers into a slutty little racerback so that we ALL could see her entire bra. I was momentarily pissed, but then I realized she looked a hell of a lot better than I did with my fleece and faded yoga pants as I sat clutching my Vera Bradley purse around my midsection. Of course ALLLLL the men working had to come inside to see her out and tell her three times to "have a nice day" to which she TOTALLY flirted back "THANKS!!!! *insert toothy grin* YOU TOO!!!" ... to evvvery single one of them. It was borderline obnoxious to the average frumpy onlooker. So the guys are practically drooling at this point, thinking of reasons to keep coming inside and hanging around the counter and I'm sitting in my plastic chair with my eyes in permanent-roll mode when I hear the manager offer her a free car wash token becuase they "got a little oil on her car" YEAH RIGHT. Whatever. Just then another guy comes walking in crumpling up the plastic seat protector, shower cap-esque steering wheel cover, and paper floor mat. If cartoon eyes existed in real life, his would have literally smacked into her boobs, ricocheted back and knocked the man on his back.
She finally left and got her darn car wash, and even thhough I was feeling about as ugly and old as dirt, I had a twinge of hope that maybe I, too, would get a free car wash. But no. And then? When I went to get inside my car? They had left all the plastic coverings and floor mat in my car for me to take care of. And I wanted to cry. I wanted to yell "I'm pretty too, you dirty mechanics!!" And then I wanted to hang all 35 yeards of plastic out the window as I drove away in a fury cackling. But then they would've thought I was fat, ugly, old, AND crazy so I just sat down on top of the plastic and left, crinkling the plastic with every breath.
Sigh.
I'm done with the oil changes.
There was this g.i.r.l. (collective sigh) in the waiting room-- the only other person in there besides me. She must have been about 17 because she was on her cell phone the entire time trying to decide where she should go to eat when she left. Who talks on the phone about that kind of stuff for 20+ minutes? Seventeen year olds, that's who. But she was nice... she didn't give off that bitch vibe that most girls you don't know do. You know the vibe. Yeah, that one. She didn't give it off... for long. I would soon come to despise her.
When her car was done, she got up and went to the counter. Now, she and I were both dressed in workout clothes, but her workout clothes were quite different than my workout clothes. While I was in faded yoga pants, an old Wittenberg tshirt and a mismatched fleece pull-over, she had on cut off sweats, bright white running shoes (that screamed "I go to the gym to look pretty), a black sports bra barely covered by her cut-off t-shirt. And when I say cut-off I don't mean the way guys cut the sleeves off... she made hers into a slutty little racerback so that we ALL could see her entire bra. I was momentarily pissed, but then I realized she looked a hell of a lot better than I did with my fleece and faded yoga pants as I sat clutching my Vera Bradley purse around my midsection. Of course ALLLLL the men working had to come inside to see her out and tell her three times to "have a nice day" to which she TOTALLY flirted back "THANKS!!!! *insert toothy grin* YOU TOO!!!" ... to evvvery single one of them. It was borderline obnoxious to the average frumpy onlooker. So the guys are practically drooling at this point, thinking of reasons to keep coming inside and hanging around the counter and I'm sitting in my plastic chair with my eyes in permanent-roll mode when I hear the manager offer her a free car wash token becuase they "got a little oil on her car" YEAH RIGHT. Whatever. Just then another guy comes walking in crumpling up the plastic seat protector, shower cap-esque steering wheel cover, and paper floor mat. If cartoon eyes existed in real life, his would have literally smacked into her boobs, ricocheted back and knocked the man on his back.
She finally left and got her darn car wash, and even thhough I was feeling about as ugly and old as dirt, I had a twinge of hope that maybe I, too, would get a free car wash. But no. And then? When I went to get inside my car? They had left all the plastic coverings and floor mat in my car for me to take care of. And I wanted to cry. I wanted to yell "I'm pretty too, you dirty mechanics!!" And then I wanted to hang all 35 yeards of plastic out the window as I drove away in a fury cackling. But then they would've thought I was fat, ugly, old, AND crazy so I just sat down on top of the plastic and left, crinkling the plastic with every breath.
Sigh.
I'm done with the oil changes.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Dramatic Sigh
What possesses someone to think it's OK to mow grass at 7am on a Thursday morning? 7:00 is practically 6:59, which is totally in the 6:00 hour, which is totally TOO early for lawn mowers. I realize that some people are awake way before that, but today I was not one of them and it was kind of nice. Until the bag of douche lawn guy (aka: creepy man who wears muscle shirts and dark sunglasses so I can't see where he's looking) came buzzing by. For a moment I felt bad that I hadn't picked up Midas' lawn presents from yesterday, but then I rolled over and smiled inside knowing what was awaiting the muscle shirt in a matter of seconds:)
Sometimes I think I should write a book called "How To Get Along In This World" becuase there are far too many imbeciles out there who need direction. And I really think I could offer some assistance since I have many, if not all, of the answers:) Just ask my mom. She tells me all the time.
Sometimes I think I should write a book called "How To Get Along In This World" becuase there are far too many imbeciles out there who need direction. And I really think I could offer some assistance since I have many, if not all, of the answers:) Just ask my mom. She tells me all the time.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
I put the ick in sick
I already broke my goal of blogging everyday, but well I was a little sick. With stomach stuff. I didn't know that anything was "going around" but a few days ago my friend/coblogger/fellow Wittenberg Tiger/former coresident of 10th floor Tower/English major pal JENNIE was tummy sick, then I subjected myself to Matt's family, which ... made me sick yesterday ON THE SAME DAY that Molly's Mommacita had the same tummy issues. So maybe it's something that's going around in my world only, but either way IT SUCKS and there are only a few people in this world I would wish it on (note: I did not say I wouldn't wish it on anyone. eeeeeevil.).
What made yesterday even suckiER is that Matt and I had to finish our taxes at H&R Block (a process we started 3-- count 'em-- 3 weeks ago) and becuase my company is one of the most worthless establishments in the state of Ohio, they simply STOPPED taking out local taxes in June of '05 and just didn't notify anyone. SO thanks to their dirty assholes, I owe Columbus a shit ton and Logan a shit ton more! (By the way, if you were wondering, 1 shit ton + a shit ton more = $520) Plus 1/2 shit ton to the State of Ohio and 1/4 shit ton to H&R Block. You'd think that, since said dirty assholes just cut my hours down to 30/week AND I just had a $10 grand surgery, I'd be a little concerned. But for some reason, it makes me laugh (and sometimes yell obscenities at inanimate household objects). It's all so simply ridiculous:) Tee hee:) Thankfully we have one of those money trees in our front yard-- the kind my dad always told me did not exist? Yeah, we have one. Aren't you jealous???
What made yesterday even suckiER is that Matt and I had to finish our taxes at H&R Block (a process we started 3-- count 'em-- 3 weeks ago) and becuase my company is one of the most worthless establishments in the state of Ohio, they simply STOPPED taking out local taxes in June of '05 and just didn't notify anyone. SO thanks to their dirty assholes, I owe Columbus a shit ton and Logan a shit ton more! (By the way, if you were wondering, 1 shit ton + a shit ton more = $520) Plus 1/2 shit ton to the State of Ohio and 1/4 shit ton to H&R Block. You'd think that, since said dirty assholes just cut my hours down to 30/week AND I just had a $10 grand surgery, I'd be a little concerned. But for some reason, it makes me laugh (and sometimes yell obscenities at inanimate household objects). It's all so simply ridiculous:) Tee hee:) Thankfully we have one of those money trees in our front yard-- the kind my dad always told me did not exist? Yeah, we have one. Aren't you jealous???
Monday, April 9, 2007
How I Met Your Father
Someday, when Matt and I are old, boring, and humorless with teenage monsters who hate us and can't understand how in the world we could be attracted to each other, I'm going to show them this blog. Probably not, in actuality, since the internet probably won't even exist anymore, but it's one of those things I'd like to think I would do if I could. Anyway, I was going through all my photos on snapfish and realized I have about 1 "nice" picture of Matt... because he is SO goofy and refuses to just look pretty for the camera. It always pisses me off, but then I see the pics a year later and they make me giggle. They're so telling of his personality... and I love my Matty's personality! Here are my top faves:
And then, the 1 nice photo I have of Weeze. When I forced him to "BE NICE FOR FECK'S SAKE!"
After seeing that, the kids'll be all "Gee, Ma! Dad was one cool dude!" And then I'll start making out with him just to gross them out. Frankly, it will probably gross me out too if I'm like 70, which, at this rate...
And then, the 1 nice photo I have of Weeze. When I forced him to "BE NICE FOR FECK'S SAKE!"
After seeing that, the kids'll be all "Gee, Ma! Dad was one cool dude!" And then I'll start making out with him just to gross them out. Frankly, it will probably gross me out too if I'm like 70, which, at this rate...
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