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.

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.


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


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


I'm pretty sure 3 boys pooped their pants today.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007


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.

Monday, June 25, 2007


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:)

Saturday, June 16, 2007


"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


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


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


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.


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


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.

Wednesday, June 6, 2007


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.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007


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!

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!