Welcome to my world

Hello my little darlings,

How fare things in your neck of the woods? Here, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the bees are buzzing--life is good, indeed. I found an inscription in some basilica relative to Theodora--gosh darn it, I thought I put it in a memo on my phone--I'll have to get to that tomorrow. It's a great inscription, one I would have carved on my headstone when I die, if it weren't for the fact that I want to be cremated and have my ashes turned to diamonds for my kids to wear and always have momma nearby. They all know this. Nikolas is going to have his stone set in white gold. They know they can't give it to a woman because if they have their mother's unfortunate relationship track record, the woman won't last but so long, and if she had the stone, I'd haunt them both until the stone was rightfully returned to my son.

On an unrelated note, gosh--I am reminded of the lyrics from a song--"...sometimes standing still can be the best move you ever make." Yes, indeed, let other people around you move, hurry about, make fools of themselves, and just stand there and let things unfold and sometimes, things have a way of taking care of themselves. Just stand there, keep your nose clean, do the right thing--and voila--all is well.

On another unrelated note, our garden is growing, sort of. We have sugar snap peas that have sprouted, two giant pumpkins--I think birds or other critters have dug up the other giant pumpkin seeds. We have carrots growing and some parsnips. The watermelon is coming up--I will have to check tonight what else is making an appearance.

So here is a cute story. One of our lizards, Pistachio, is the sweetest thing. He likes to come out of his cage at night. When I tuck the boys in bed and kiss them goodnight, I walk past their box and darn it all if he does not stand on top of the log in his cage, lifting up a little lizard paw, with his head raised up in the air, in a "please take me out of here for a bit" kind of way. At first, I thought I was just imagining it a few nights ago. Regardless, I took him out, and he crawled around on me for a bit. The next night, I took careful note--did he do it again, his little whimper lizard look of pitifulness--and sure enough, he did. Now, it is something fun we do at night--take the lizard out to "play" and he crawls around on us, from one set of hands to another. He sometimes climbs up onto my shoulder and just hangs out there. He is the sweetest little thing. As I hopped in the shower last night, I thought to myself how fun it is that this little creature likes to come out, is able to express his personality, and hang out--and that in this hi-tech world of video games, instant gratification, and the next biggest, brightest bright shiney object, that we can take time out to enjoy something as simple as the fun having this little, tiny lizard--well, that's nice. With that final thought, I bid you farewell for now.

Greetings my ever faithful followers,

May 25, 2010

Greetings my ever faithful followers,

I ponder with what great tales shall I regale thee? Recently, I finished reading a book titled "Four Queens: The Provencal Sisters Who Ruled Europe." I mentioned it in my last blog post. What I find of interest is how the women in this book, whether the four sisters themselves, or the White Queen, or any of the other women featured with more than a passing byline, were kick ass powerful. They were not powerful in a physical sense--in terms of bullying others into acquiescence, but rather, in a soft, silent, way--they were able to accomplish their goals nonetheless. There was a time when Marguerite had just given birth, while on crusade with her husband, and he had been captured and the paid soldiers were about to abandon the city where the queen was recovering, leaving the queen and newborn baby to be captured by the infidels. Marguerite was able to convince them to stay--though it would cost $$$. Still, though, she achieved her goal--preserving her and her newborn's lives. Sanchia, though a waifish wallflower, still held massive control over the Duke of Cornwall, who later became King of Germany--again, her power was not to be found in bullying folks.

So, what amazes me is this--these women were able to unite powerful forces, to create and destroy empires, without once ever raising a weapon themselves. They worked tirelessly behind the scenes, using diplomacy, scheming--whatever it took, to accomplish their goals to the betterment of their children at the time. Eleanor and Marguerite both worked tirelessly so that their sons, the firstborns who would inherit the kingdoms, had kingdoms worth inheriting. I admire these women in doing what they had to do to make it happen for the benfit of their first born sons. They bore insult and injury, and would have to wait until the time was right to carry out their measures to accomplish their goals--but carry them out they did. In some instances, they had to wait years for things to come to fruition--but eventually they DID come to fruition.

The other thing I found interesting is that their husbands were, by and large, utterly incompetent. In this instance, I am referring to Eleanor and Marguerite, as history has well proven that Henry III and Louis IX were bumbling idiots when it came to matters of military strategy. Often times, this meant, that their wives had to go and fix things in a way that actually fixed things, even though it was contrary to the will of their husbands. At one point, Henry III had Eleanor exiled and stripped of her property, but that didn't last long as he then realized that he couldn't do squat without her. (Go Eleanor!!!!) It goes to show that just because a person is king, doesn't mean he has the sense gawd gave an animal cracker. A lot of people have titles--but that doesn't mean they are smart. It just means they have a title. I know a lot of idiots with fancy titles. It reminds me of dung beetles. I read a while back in a book about animal procreation. Studies had been done about dung beetles. The big, beefy, brutus he-man looking dung beetle "won" the female dung beetle--the whimpy male dung beetles lost out. Then, the beefy male dung beetle "kept" his woman dung beetle securely sequestered in their dung beetle love nest while he stood guard outside to ward off any other he-man brutus beefcake dung beetles. The purpose of this was so that he, and he alone, would be able to mate with her. Unbeknownst to him, there were puny male dung beetles that were so puny as to almost resemble female dung beetles, and they were not seen as a threat to the big, beefy he-man brutus beefcake dung beetle, so a puny one got past the big one, went in, and mated with the female while the male was standing guard out front. I'm not joking--this is for real. My point is, being big, blustery, full of bravado and threats works--but only up to a certain point, and then people, or dung beetles, find a work around. Big old brutus beef cake dung beetle can keep on blustering and being all "I'm the boss and what I say goes..." and he can keep right on with that, all the while, the the female and whimpy male dung beetles are doing their own little bug business thing right under his nose. Idiot beefcake dung beetle. Henry III and Louis IX had no clue what their wives did behind the scenes (NOT that the wives were unfaithful--you are missing the point if that's where you think I'm going with this) but yes, indeed, the kings, with their fancy titles, were the big dung beetles waging war (and ultimately failing misearably, it should be noted), while their women were working behind the scenes to preserve their respective empires and leave legacies for their sons to inherit.

So--with that little history/bug lesson for today, may all of the women out there reading this find their own inner Eleanor or Marguerite and know that they have the ability to do what needs to be done and they can do it in a calm, collected, quiet manner, no matter what dung beetle might be stinking up their air and saying otherwise. I am amazed that people are so foolish to think that power comes by being a loudmouthed, hostile, bellicose war dog from hell. There is surely a time and place for that, but not every time, and not every place, calls for that. I could say more on the matter, but I won't. Suffice it to say for now, women are strong, mighty creatures, able to accomplish great things, all without ever raising their voices or weapons. Pity the poor fools who think othewise.

May 19, 2010

Hello My Dear and Gentle Readers,

Long time no write--so sorry about that. I've been slammed at work and since I last wrote, I've been out of the office gosh, maybe 3 days for client meetings. I tell you, I have such a hard job, for sure. One day, I had to go to a tortilla chip manufacturer and eat hot tortilla chips fresh off the line. THAT was a really hard day. Another day, I had to go to a company and do some needlepoint and look at wool embroidery floss, and today, I had to go to a company and climb in a truck bucket and be lifted way up high to take pictures. Thank goodness I thought to wear pants and sensible shoes! Yesterday, I was out of the office half the day, giving a presentation at a conference and it was pretty funny--yes, I made them laugh. They were listening to a government presentation and it was funny!

So on a totally unrelated note, last week, I had to break bad on Bambi's beauty school director. There was an issue with Bambi's enrollment status at her student loan company. They were calling ME wanting their student loan money, not having in their records that Bambi was enrolled full time and thus, her loan payments were not due. So I'm chewing Bambi a new one, as she got mom to cosign, trying to explain to her the perils of being late in paying a student loan, all the horrible evils that can ensue with a blemish on her (my) credit report, and that she MUST get it resolved IMMEDIATELY.

She brings me some paperwork--it's her enrollment agreement, 4 pages, so last Monday, I faxed it to the student loan company. I was told to call the next day to confirm they got it, but that was the day I was out all day at the tortilla chip company. On Wednesday, I'm meeting with one of my assistants and see the student loan company is calling me--so I take the call, thinking it's them calling to confirm they got the paperwork. Nope--she's now 31 days past due, so now I'm 31 days past due, and they want their money. Why aren't they calling to bug her, I ask--as if they were calling to bug her, maybe she'd get tired of it and fix the problem. I inform the person that I faxed the paperwork on Monday. He confirms they got a fax, but an enrollment agreement isn't want they want. They want a letter from the school on letterhead, verifying that she actually did enroll and that she is in school full time. I call/text Bambi and chew her a new one. I call her school and tell one of the admin there EXACTLY what I need and that it MUST be done ASAP. Bambi brings me the paperwork Wednesday evening. I told her I want the letter they sent and a copy of the fax confirmation that it was received at the student loan company. Dutifully, Bambi brings it over Wednesday evening. I review it--and alas, it is dated May 12, 2011, and it does not have her student loan number on it. I was ready to break something. I inform her that come heck or high water, they MUST get this fixed by 10:00 a.m. the next day OR ELSE heads were going to roll!!!!

The next day, I harass the life of out Bambi. I text her constantly asking when it was faxed. She ignores me. I kept texting and texting and texting--and she keeps ignoring me. Finally, around 4:40, she gets out of school and is heading to her car. She calls me and tells me that "Well, my director said the printer was out of ink and that she couldn't print out the letter so it will have to wait until tomorrow...." and I go postal ballistic. Bambi tells me that the director emailed it to her so that we could print it out and fax it ourselves--but, as I pointed out, unless it was signed, and was a scanned copy of the signed document that was emailed, the document was worthless. Of course, the director emailed a plain, old, unsigned word document. I told Bambi that it better be resolved by 10:00 the next morning or I was going to come to her school and raise hell. Bambi got an earful, as she said, "I did everything I could do..... why are you getting mad at me?" I told her that unless she had the printed, signed letter in her hand, she had NOT done all she could do. "I'm only 20 years old, I don't know what to do..." and then I had to go off on her again and at this point, I actually started to laugh as it was so ridiculous--"Babydoll, when I was your age, I was married and already had you--I was legally responsible for another humanbeing's life--I couldn't pull the 'I'm only 20 and don't know what to do" line--come on Babydoll-I've taught you better than this!"

It's now Friday morning and bright and early, I'm harassing Bambi--did they fax it yet????? Bambi calls me and tells me that I have to call the school and wail on the director--according to the director, "The printer is out of toner and I don't know when it's going to be delivered, so there's nothing I can do about it...." Bambi said she thanked the director for her help--heavy sarcasm there for sure, and I know it was sort of the thing along the lines of "trust me, you DON'T want my mother to call you or come down here, really, you don't...." Evidently, the director told Bambi that she or her mother could print out the letter and bring it to her to sign and fax it ourselves.....
Thus, I called the director as soon as I got off the phone. She told me that the printer was out of toner and that I was welcome to print it out and bring it to her to sign. Yes, it took herculean effort not to go off on that woman in a trailer park trash kind of way--but I'm better than that. I informed her that, as a competent business woman, I found it incredulous that she would actually that was a satisfactory solution to the problem. I pointed out that they had rather inadequate procurement policies if they had no spare toner at the ready for when they ran out of toner. "Well, there's nothing I can do about it--we're waiting for the toner to be delivered...." "Well," I suggest, "why don't you get in your car and go across the street to Office Max and buy some more toner?" She replies, "Well, the type of toner we need isn't sold in the stores and it's not just an issue with the toner, but there is a problem with the printer and the person delivering the toner has to fix it. "Then how about since you have access to email, you email it to yourself and then go to Kinkos while you're waiting for the toner to be delivered, and print it out and fax it--you can do that, can't you?" She had no choice but to agree that she could, indeed, do that. Hulloh dingleberry--WTF????? REALLY--did it require someone having to suggest that she go to Kinkos, I mean, isn't that the purpose of Kinkos? The director asked if I saw the letter that was emailed--so I logged in to Bambi's email again to see if the letter was finally there. It was, and upon review, the director put the wrong flippin' loan number on the letter!!! I flipping kid you not--the wrong loan number. Oddly enough, I had my faxed confirmation of the fax confirmation by 10:14. The director didn't have the nerve to call me herself--she had her assistant call me. The assistant said to Bambi,"Your mom told the director it was all my fault and that she was really mad at me, but when I called her to tell her it was all faxed and taken care of, she sounded really nice." This was the same girl that I spoke with on Wednesday to say what I needed. The director had the audacity to tell me, "Well, your daughter didn't tell me until LATE yesterday that she needed this..." at which point I informed the director that I personally called the school on Wednesday and told them what needed to be done so don't hand me the "we didn't know until late yesterday you needed this..." line. It was at this point that I reminded her that 1. had they put the loan number on the letter as I specifically instructed on Wednesday and 2. had they put the correct date on it, she and I would not be having this conversation right now.) Back to the assistant who got her butt chewed by the director because I said she screwed up--Bambi set the record straight and told this girl that no, she was sure that her mother did NOT get the girl in trouble and that her mother did NOT say the girl did anything wrong--Bambi was sure that her mom chewed the director a new ass and the director was taking it out on the girl. I told Bambi to be sure and let the girl know that yes, indeed, her mother handed the director her ass, served up chilled, on a silver platter and that I did NOT say a single negative thing about that girl.

Now, however, I'm going to have to work on Bambi and some assertiveness training. I never raised my voice and I never cursed at the director, but I made it clear that her handling of the situation bordered on utter incompetence and that I would not tolerate such mediocrity. I find that I have greater success in such matters when I point out such flagrant ineptitude in an erudite manner. Yes, I was talking down to her--but hey, I can't help that she was so utterly challenged. How could she really think that telling a parent to print it out herself and bring it to the school for her to sign would be an acceptable solution?????? AGH!!!

Okay, since then, hm, let's see, what else have I been doing? Well, I ordered, and received, a coin from the reign of Emperor Justinian, which was minted in 541, and Empress Theodora was still alive then. I got the fabric for my next ballgown and last night I finally designed it. Now if I can just finish it by October. It is not really THAT difficult of a design. In fact, in comparison to the last gown, this will most likely be a walk in the park. I finished reading another book, and it's a good thing I already changed my name, or I'd have added another name to the list and before long, I'd end up having 80 names of all of these incredible women in history who kicked ass and took no crap from anybody. Go Queen Marguerite of France in the 13th century. She was crazy fiercely competent--unlike that idiot director at Bambi's school. I felt sorry for one of Marguerite's younger sisters, Sanchia. She had a sad life, indeed.

Yesterday I got a new sand wedge. It's not the greatest--not a Calloway or anything, but compared to the sand wedge that I didn't have, this one is better than no sand wedge. I also got a watch for my golf bag and sun visors for the boys--all for free!!! Today, my latest issue of Golf Week arrived, and it's Golf Week for Her--with a subtitle of "For Stylish Women Golfers." Yep, that's me--a stylish woman golfer. I'm more of a stylish woman than a golfer, but I'm working on it.

Regaring our garden, some carrots are coming up and I think we've got cabbage growing now. My Japanese cherry tree actually has cherries on it this year!!! there are some sugar snap peas that are growing--or rather, the plants for sugar snap peas, but no peas yet. Our free tomato plants are doing well. Karlie has some watermelon plants that have sprouted, Baby has two giant pumpkin plants growing--I think critters dug up the other seeds and ate them. I can't find any honeydew or cantaloupe growing though.

Over the weekend, I was very busy, what with out-of-town company and we went to the botanical gardens, to the symphony--I SO have to get Saint Saens 3rd symphony for organ and Brahms Naenie. That was exquisite. We also managed to hit the movies.

Thus, in a nut shell, that's what's going on in our neck of the woods. I'm still savoring the euphoria of showering in my own bathroom in a nice, new, clean shower that doens't leak! I'm also still soaking up the sunshine of my new name. Today at lunch with a client, the waitress brought back my debit card and called me by my new first name and she said, "That's such a pretty name...." and I just said thanks--and the client started laughing, knowing how much I love my new name. I love the versatility of it. I now have a nick name, I have a formal name, I have an ultra formal name when I use my middle name, which I prefer to use as it's just so flippin pretty. I also get a name saint day, I get a new signature, but I sometimes forget and sign my old name out of habit, despite how pretty my new, formal signature is. Alright--it's time to go hit the books. Ta ta dahlinks.

May 10, 2010

Hello My Dear and Gentle Readers,

Yesterday, my Mother's Day was truly a wonderful day. My monkeys let me sleep late--I told them I didn't want to stir before 10:00 a.m. At 10:04, I got up, went downstairs, and was treated to a home cooked breakfast by Chef Colie--French toast and scrambled eggs. As I was eating, he regaled me with a snippet from the 4th movement of Beethoven's 9th symphony as well as another piece, "March of the Metronome," which he's learned to play. While he was doing that, Baby was running upstairs to procure his Mother's Day presents.

A couple of weeks ago, while in the car, I touched on the subject of Mother's Day. "Baby, in the event your dad suggests getting something for Mother's Day..." I started, and he promptly interrupted--"NO MOMMA--I've already got your Mother's Day present--and YOU'RE GONNA LOVE IT!!!" he emphatically replies. "Well, but in case dad wants to know what mom wants..." I continued, as normally, each year, his dad and I consult with each other to direct Alex as to what the other parent wants so that he doesnt' end up with something horrid that we don't want. Usually, it's a plant that we can put out in the yard. The rose bush Alex gave me 2 Mother's Days ago is huge now, planted right next to the rose bush Bambi gave me that same year. I was secretly hoping for a rhubarb plant for the garden (yes, I know, every mother's secret wish, no doubt--a rhubarb plant, or another rose bush.) Baby made it quite clear, he did NOT need his dad's help this year for Mother's Day--he had it under control, I was going to LOVE it, end of discussion.

Friday comes along and though it's his dad's weekend, I get him because it's Mother's Day weekend. I picked him up from the babysitter's after work and he greets me chipperly at the door, full of "I can't wait to give you your Mother's Day present because you're going to love it!" enthusiasm. I ask him, not seeing any Lowe's bag with a plant in it, "Did you remember your Mother's Day present?" He replies, "Yes ma'am--it's in my backpack. I got it from school!" I'm expecting a macaroni picture frame or something--but that's fine, as those are some of the best gifts, made with love.

Fast forward to Sunday again, now--as I'm eating breakfast while listening to the March of the Metronome. "Here momma--see this one first..." Baby says, and he hands me a sheet of green construction paper with a word something (Baby has a specific name for it, but I don't recall what) that has "Mother" on it in the largest font, and then lots of other words--smart, pretty, fun, cuddly.... all the adjectives he things describe his mom. I asked him who selected the words to go on this--and he said they were HIS words that HE chose. He sure does know how to put a smile on my face--cuddly was the sweetest of them all I thought.

Then came time for the "real" present. He hands me a folded piece of paper--slick, heavier stock paper. It is perfectly scored in the middle, horizontally. On one side, it says something about Morisot and posters.... I open it, and it's a print, from the VMFA--Virginia Museum of Fine Arts. His class just went there last week on a field trip. (That's the one he wanted momma to sign the permission slip for, not dad, as if dad did, then dad would make him take a dad lunch, as the trip was during dad's week, and evidently, baby would rather have a 1. mom field trip lunch or 2. a school prepared field trip lunch, so since it wasn't mom's week, a school prepared field trip lunch was evidently WAY better than a dad prepared lunch with tofu and sugar free yogurt--so said Baby.) The poster was of a French impressionist painting by Morisot, titled "Young Woman Watering a Shrub," and the young woman is wearing a long, white dress. Baby said, again--his face absolutely BEAMING, "I KNEW you would LOVE this!" I asked him if he got it while he was on his field trip to the museum, which had just reopened the week of his field trip after a long period of renovation/expansion. "No--I didn't get it on my field trip, I got it at school from the poster bin." "How did you get it from school from the poster bin?" I asked. "I used my coupons to get it," he replied. Still not fully understanding, I asked for greater clarity. "Well, I had ten good behavior coupons and I wanted to use them to get a toy, but I saw that poster and I knew Mother's Day was coming, and I KNEW you would LOVE that poster, so I used my coupons to get that for you." OMG--talk about melting my heart. My Baby saved his good behaviour coupons to get me poster--that was crumpled up on one edge from stuffing it in his backpack--it was SO Baby, as he crams everything into his backpack, no concern at all for how it will survive the cramming. I told him he needed to write something at the bottom of it for me, for Mother's Day. He wrote, "Happy Mother's Day u r the best mommy ever. 5/9/10 Signed by Alex." I asked him later how he knew I would love that poster. He replied, "I just knew." Needless to say, he was right--he knows me well, to know that I love French impressionist paintings, particularly ones of women in long dresses, and flowers, and the museum.... I keep telling his brothers that they need to take lessons from him. I know a few blockhead adults that could learn a thing, or two hundred, from Baby.

A bit after lunch time, Bambi came over and she had on the cutest duck shirt from Target--a momma duck on the front and baby duckalinks on the back--so we made a point to go to Target to get a matching one for mom. She had a lovely vase for me for Mother's Day and then the kids planted the tomatoes we got from the Race for a Cure in the garden in the backyard. We then went to lunch at Mimi's Cafe. We had a lovely lunch and then, it was time to pay. I used one of my new debit cards that I had just gotten that week with my new name on it. The waiter brings the check back, I take the debit card out of the little folder thing and go to put it in my wallet which is in my purse and somehow, the debit card slips out of my fingers and down the cracks of the booth seat we are sitting on--I can't reach it. I stick my hand down--no success as my new empress rings are too big for me to fit my hand down, so I have to take off the rings. Still no luck. I then think it might have fallen on the side of the booth bench, so I'm sprawled out lengthwise on the bench, trying to get my hand down further, then I get my hand caught and start howling as it hurts trying to get it out, and Bambi is trying not to die of embarrassment in the restaurant. She tells me the card is lost, I tell her I JUST got it that week. The boys try to get the card--still no luck. A manager comes over, thinks it's a lost cause, but goes to get another manager. The other manager comes back and knows how to pull the cushions off of the bench which is bolted to the floor/wall. Low and behold, as she pulls the cushions off of the bench, there is my new debit card. I have to step through the wooden supports of the bench, and the baskets stored within the bench, to retrieve the card, and then my foot got stuck in the bench and Bambi thinks this is hilarious, telling the manager that her momma is "special." I got the card, we went home, all was well. That was my Mother's Day. How was yours?

May 8, 2010

Hello Mah Leetl Lammies,

Well, what a lovely day for the Race for a Cure! Our team raised $1,100 for the cause. There was a nice breeze blowing for the most part. Colie volunteered with his boyscout troop but Karly wanted to stay with us and do the 5K race with us. Afterwards, they all got momma tomato plants which we will plant in the garden tomorrow. Here is a tidbit for you--from the gal who was in line in front of us waiting for the tomatoes. She was talking about what a gracious, unpretentious man her great uncle was--who happened to be a tireless advocate for breast cancer awareness. He was a surgeon in the Baltimore area, and she was talking about how he grew the biggest tomatoes--and she found out that his secret was that he put prenatal vitamins in the soil where he planted the tomatoes. I laughed and told her, as I said I had been eavesdropping on her conversation, that her great uncle's legacy would live on as now I would try prenatal vitamins with my tomatoes, and now I'm passing it on to you, my dear and gentle readers.

After the race, we came home and I was tuckered out, what with having to get up so early yesterday and today and then doing the 5K. I was all pink ribboned out, in my cute pink pink ribbon golf shirt and pink and green plaid pink ribbon golf skirt. After the race, getting home and showered, I put on my white pink ribbon golf shirt and pink pink ribbon golf shorts. (Do you get the idea that I'm passionately pink for the cure?) Since then, I've been sitting on my lazy butt. I did finally order fabric to make my gown for the event in October and I'm possibly inclined to let it do double duty for the ball in the winter as well--yes, I know, perish the thought, wearing a ballgown twice--but as I will be wearing them in different countries on different continents, I think I can get away with it, except I don't want to--I want two different dresses, and I have fabric for two different dresses, but I have time for only one. Colie asks me sometimes if I could have a super power, what would it be--it might be to suspend time--I wouldn't age any during the time I suspend--but this way, I could suspend time and sew and learn a new language and do work around the house, speed time up when I'm ready for it to speed up. Yes, I know, that I think of this at all is troubling, isn't it?

I also did my favorite searching on Ebay for fur coats. The best time to buy a fur coat is when it's hot outside. So, I found a few that I liked and were going for dirt cheap--gorgeous furs--and I waited, all stealth like, for the last two and a half minutes--and then, I swooped in for the kill--I had the winning bid for a while (not much of a while if there were only two and a half minutes when I STARTED bidding.) I got outbid, so I decided to jack up the price and I put an amount on it that I didn't really want to pay, but if the other person was going to deprive me of the coat I wanted, let me at least make it more expensive for them and NO, I did not end up bidding more than I was willing to pay because the other person, evidently not knowing fur that well, outbid me and paid WAY too much for it. Actually, that happened twice tonight. One of them I really wanted, but not THAT much, as it was in Germany and shipping was crazy expensive, in EURO, so that made it even worse. I gladly passed, as I've got to save my euro for other, more important things.

In between bidding wars and searching for rare antiquities, I went and put the new marble backsplash in my bathroom. Note to self--silicone sucks and dries faster than caulk.

With that, my darling little lambs, I bid you farewell as I go read a book and head off to la la land early. The boys promise they'll let me sleep late. Please dear gawd let it be so.

May 7, 2010

Hello My Dear and Gentle Readers,

Long time no write, so sorry! What have we been doing since last I wrote? Hm, I chaperoned a field trip for the twins and they got to touch an enormous black rat snake. Gosh, will our Japanese rat snakes ever get so big? I hope not, as then I will need an even bigger box for them and they will have to eat rats. I am NOT keeping big, dead, frozen rats in my freezer. I have to draw the line somewhere--and big, dead rats in the freezer is that line. We got our garden planted--sunflowers, cabbage, carrots, parsnips, cucumbers, sugar snap peas, tomatoes, peppers, corn--those are in the main garden, which is 20 ft. by 40 ft. Then we still had pumpkins, watermelon and cantaloupe to plant, and no more tilled garden space. I thought back to the summer of 2005--we were living in the townhouse and that 4th of July was splendid. We had sparklers and watermelon, and we sat in the front yard that day, eating watermelon and spitting sunflower seeds out on the grass. We thought nothing more of it--until the next year, and one day, as I came home from work and parked the car, I noticed something growing in the grass that was obviously not grass. It was baby watermelon plants--that had sprouted from the seeds we spit out onto the grass. So, fast forward years later, we're in our big backyard and the heck if mom is going to beat herself up tilling more ground--so I said, "Hey, each of you take a digger, go claim your land and plant your seeds wherever you want to...." Karly claimed his patch of land--AND he cleared the grass, for his watermelon, Baby planted his giant pumpkin seeds, and Colie went to work on his cantaloupe and honey dew melon. As the back spigot is fixed, no thanks to the unspoken one, we can water the backyard. We are excited to see what actually grows.

On an unrelated note, I played in a golf tournament yesterday. Thank goodness for captain's choice. My team actually played from one of my balls yesterday. I made three putts for the team. Heck, though, I was lucky to get out of the tee box and limp my way down the fairway for the most part. It was a gorgous day, though, and I cleaned up with the door prizes, winning a gift card to Golf Galaxy, a bag of tees, a drizzle stick and two free rounds of golf with a cart. I got some sun, despite using sun block, which my teammates were kind enough to ask if I was wearing and then offer me their sunblock, as otherwise, I'd be a burnt lobster hurtin' puppy. I had written some things on my golf balls--call them therapy balls, so that I could smack around idiot meisters from the past. Oh, although I couldn't hit the ball for crap relative to the right direction or very far, I still hit them, and so in that way it was good therapy to crack some numbnut upside his fool head for past wrongs. One person drowned, a couple of times--once in a big water hazzard pond and then another marshy water hazzard. One of the golfers had these super tricked out golf clubs--one club cost $300 and he was THRILLED when he was able to drive the ball over this HUGE hazzard of growth where if you missed, your ball would be lost forever. As he was rejoicing over the thrill of success, he said, "I've got technology!" I replied, "Well, I don't have technolgoy--I've just got a lot of golf balls." He busted out laughing as if that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Considering that I made out like a bandit with the door prizes and it got me out of the office, it was a good day, indeed.

This weekend is Mother's Day! I am looking forward to having all of my little lambs with me. We are doing the Race for a Cure again this year. My team has raised $1,040 so far, with a little bit more expected in shortly. It's not as much as we normally raise, but every little bit helps. I don't know what we'll actually do ON Mother's Day--well, I'll take the boys swimming as the twins have to practice for their boy scouts swimming test to go on the kayaking trip in a couple of weeks. I want a free weekend with no kids (I can't miss them if they don't leave, and vice versa), so they need to pass that test. If they pass the test, then they go kayaking and I'm going hiking that weekend. I have half a mind to drag them hiking with me if they don't pass it.

Also, I have been motivated to get back to work on my needlepoint and lace making. I'm reading a ton--and that's great and I'm loving it, but I really want to get back to my lace making and embroidery and I've got two major events coming up in the fall/winter and I need new gowns for them. I'm debating that what I wear to the one in October could also be the one that I wear in December, but I don't want hot pink in December, I want emerald green, and I can't use emerald green in October, it MUST be hot pink. Thus unfortunately, it appears as if I need two new gowns. I'm having wool special ordered for my Mucha canvases and I recently learned the basket stitch, but I think the continental might be more appropriate for much of the Mucha canvases. Oh well--I'll worry about it once it arrives. I hadn't touched my other canvas in so long--as in YEARS, that when I went to vacuum the dust off of it, I pulled out some of the threads. Note to others, DON'T vacuum your needlepoint if you can help it--and if you MUST, DON'T suck up the threads in the vacuum.

Well, with that, my DAGR, I bid you farewell. I hope that your day is fantastic.

April 26, 2010

Greetings Mah Leetl Dahlinks,

It is nice for the weekend to end so that I can take a break and relax finally! I had a major lazy streak when I went to the gym and simply sat by the pool reading--as I could not bring myself to exert more energy than that which it took to turn pages in a book. Was it really a lazy streak, or was it that I'd already overdone it so far earlier in the weekend that to have done anything more would have left me a limp noodle on the gym floor, unable to move from the puddle of mush I would surely have become?

April 26, 2010

Greetings Mah Leetl Dahlinks,

It is nice for the weekend to end so that I can take a break and relax finally! I had a major lazy streak when I went to the gym and simply sat by the pool reading--as I could not bring myself to exert more energy than that which it took to turn pages in a book. Was it really a lazy streak, or was it that I'd already overdone it so far earlier in the weekend that to have done anything more would have left me a limp noodle on the gym floor, unable to move from the puddle of mush I would surely have become?

On Saturday, we had to help with the boyscout mulch deliveries. The boys were grunt gophers, schlepping bags of mulch, and I was a lunch mom, helping set up lunch for all the people helping with the mulch delivery. When my shift was over, I went to the bank to change my name there, and then went to pick up Baby's birthday cake for the party at his dad's house. When we were done with the party, we then had to go home and put down our 50 cubic feet of mulch. That was some work, as we had to pull weeds and trim the old tulip/hyacinth growth also and do general pruning and gardening in the process. When we were done with that, I then went and put another coat of joint compound on the bathroom wall. I was ready to collapse into a heap by Saturday night. Before too late, I put on my hokie bunny rabbit and blue bird jammies, curled up on the sofa, and we watched Avatar.

Sunday morning, I knew the walls would not sand themselves, so I sanded, by hand, the bathroom wall that had just gotten another coat of joint compound on it the night before. We did general housework, then went to the gym where it was all I could do to turn pages after the time spent sanding the wall. (Now you know why it was all I could do to muster the strength to turn the pages--sanding walls by hand is a good way to work out your arms.) After the gym, we went home, where, with renewed energy from sitting on my butt reading, I decided to assemble the garden tiller and go till the entire garden. That is HARD work! That tiller shook and rattled every bone in my body. My body is still vibrating from that tiller yesterday. I tilled the garden twice, and by the time I was done, I truly was the wet noodle that collapsed in a heap once inside, but alas, no rest for the weary--it was time to prime the walls that had been sanded. Now that I'm done priming, I just have to caulk the walls/shower and then I'm ready to paint. Too bad these things don't have a way of sanding, priming, caulking and painting themselves. Wouldn't that be nice--self sanding, self caulking walls? Imagine, similar to a self cleaning oven--if you could just press a button and poof--they fix themselves. Then again, I wouldn't have such friggin' awesome looking arms if I didn't have to do all that sanding/priming/painting myself, and then I'd have no valid excuse to have just sat on my butt at the gym, reading a book, only able to turn pages.

There is a chance that tonight, I will try to get out and plant some seeds--but I don't know how realistic a thought that is. Now that we've got the garden tilled, we've got to get the seeds in the ground ASAP or we won't have fresh veggies until the frost hits--and all that bone rattling will have been for naught. With that, my DAGR, I bid you farewell.

April 23, 2010

Hello my Dear and Gentle Readers,

Woo hoo, it's official!!!! I am legally now someone other than who I was! I had the ladies at DMV and Social Security Administration in stitches as I was regaling them with the tales of my new name, and how it came to be, that I named myself after a great 6th century Byzantine empress, replete with ancient Greek middle name. The SSA lady spelled my middle name wrong the first time, as I pronounced it as if it ended with an "a," but I spell it with an "e" on the end. I told her that as there were no ancient Greeks around to correct me, for my $39, I could say my name is pronounce however I want it to be pronounced. I was thrilled that today I could LEGALLY write/sign my new name. So what did I do at DMV as I signed the check to pay for my new license? I signed my old name.

This weekend, we have more gardening to do. The boyscout fundraiser mulch is FINALLY being delivered. WHY did they wait so long/late to get the mulch???? I've been suffering from neighbor mulch envy, what with my neighbors all having mulched and my flower beds look like CRAP, all dirt and what not, with no mulch. As the boys had to sell mulch as a fund raiser, I figured I'd wait, order it from them and let them deliver it so that I don't have to schlepp it from the store to my car to the house.... but criminy this is late in the year to have crap looking flower beds. Oh well--as of tomorrow, I will have nice looking flower beds. Darnit all, I think it's supposed to rain this weekend, which will thwart my plant-a-garden plans for this weekend as well. I'm starting to think that just buying our veggies from the store this year is looking attractiver and attractiver with each passing day......

So, here is my total fiasco of a Thursday night. Last night, I dropped the boys off at scouts and then went to buy a basket in which to put the items for Baby's school's classroom's gift basket. For the spring carnival, each class donates a themed basket for auction. We did a "Mom and Me in the Kitchen" themed basket. As the main room parent organizer, I was the one who had to put everything in a nice basket, put a bow around it, list the contents etc. I didn't want to buy a basket until I knew how much stuff would go in it. So, the basket had to be turned in today, requiring me to procure a basket last night.

I went to Michael's craft store for the basket. Before going into Michael's, I went into Golf Galaxy, to see if that cute shirt I liked was on sale any more than the last time I was in there. It wasn't, and in the meantime, they'd gotten in more cute, pink golf skirts. There are at least 4 new golf outfits they have there that I want, you know, for all the golf I play..... However, duty called (and the fact that the skirts were $70 a pop didn't help matters), so I left, no new golf outfits, and went to Michael's. I looked first at the baskets in the bin outside, but none were to my liking. I then went in, milled over every basket for the perfect one. Then I had to find the shredded paper for the bottom, then I had to find the plastic bag in which to place the basket..... After that, I had to mill around and look at the clearance items, pick up and touch every little cotton pickin' thing, smell all the candles, look at all the picture frames, check out the beads for what type of necklace to make for my next ballgown.... Essentially, I wandered and roamed through every square inch of the store. I then went to make my purchase and was ready to leave.

I reached for my keys...... only, hm...... they weren't there. I went to the customer service desk, no keys had been turned in yet. I retraced my steps--which covered EVERY part of the store. No keys. I went to Golf Galaxy. No keys. I went back to Michael's. Still no keys. I went back to Golf Galaxy, still no keys. I called Bambi. She didn't answer her phone. I called a parent of a boyscout, to inform him that I was stranded and couldn't get the boys--will somebody stay with them until I can get to them or get somebody to get them. I call Bambi again, she still doesn't answer. I call Bambi's dad. He doesn't answer. I call Bambi's stepmom. Thank GAWD she answers. Then Bambi's dad calls, while I'm talking to his wife. She tells him to go out and find Bambi--Bambi's out walking, without her phone. Turns out, Bambi was running, and her phone was in her sports bra and she said she had the ringer off and that she couldn't have felt it vibrate anyway had she had it on vibrate because she was running.....

I dispatch Bambi to the house to get my spare set of keys from the hook by the door. She goes to the house, tells me there's a Target bag in front of my door, and then unlocks the house--no spare keys hanging by the door. Fudge bunnies! The only other place they can be is--in my car, of course, in the center console, where they do me a lot of good, locked in my car. She sets off to get her little brothers from scouts. She gets there right as they are finishing up and then she takes them home. In the meantime, I've called my brother, Toader, to come save me as I know he has a pop-a-lock type slimjim sort of tool from his tow truck days. He says he has to wait for his girlfriend to come home or she'll chew him a new one, but she'll be home soon and he'll come help me.

With no ability to drive anywhere, I sit on the sidewalk in front of the store, when it dawns on me, I can walk a block across the street and go to Borders and get the new Avatar movie on Blue Ray on sale. So, I set out, in the dark, with my basket, shredded paper and basket bag, en route to Borders. I get to Borders, mill around, then after buying the DVD, head back to Michael's to sit on the sidewalk and wait for my brother to come rescue me. I sit and sit and sit and sit and the low and behold, someone from Michael's comes out with my keys. They fell into a basket. I tried to call my brother, and he didn't answer. I called him again--it would be very rude of me to drive off and go home and then he shows up and I'm nowhere, so I sat in my car in the parking lot, confirm my spare set of keys are in the console, right where they don't need to be, and kept calling and texting my brother. I finally got him--he was on his motorcycle on I-95 and couldn't talk, but he got enough to know I was able to get home, had my keys, so he turned around and went home.

I got to the house, had to fix the gift basket, but had to take inventory of all the things in the basket to list and print out so people bidding on the basket would know what all was in it. Bambi asked what I was doing. "I'm fixing the gift basket..." "What all is in it?" she asks. "I dunno.... that's why I'm taking inventory to make a list of what all is in it...." I take inventory, make the list, print the list, put the basket in the basket bag, all the contents neatly arranged, tie a pretty bow around it and cut the excess plastic at the top. "Oh," Bambi says, "the Target bag... I think it's got stuff for the basket...."

So that was my night. How was yours? What a way to celebrate my name change, indeed. With that, I have other things to be doing now. I hope whatever you're doing, you're having a mahveluz time of it. TTFN

April 21, 2010

Hello my little lammiekins,

What a dismal, dreary day it is outside, though inside, it's a bright, bright, bright sunshiny day. In my world, the sky is blue (actually, a nice, rosie shade of pink will do just fine!) birds are chirping, flowers bluming--there are perpetual wisteria and tulips in bloom--with red poinsettias interspersed here and there. Yes, a lovely day, in my world at least, it is.

Mind you, I still have a bit of sheetrock work to do in the bathroom, but now that I'm using the vacuum-while-you-sand technique, there's much less mess to clean up afterwards. I will try to get another coat of joint compound on the last bit of wall that needs it and then I should be ready to prep the wall (sand/vacuum/wet sand), then prime and paint! Pretty much then the bathroom is finished--PROPERLY! Now, I will then need to start on the porch railings, the windows, doors, cabinets..... I think it would just be easier to win the lottery and buy a new house, but then what wildly exciting tales would I have with which to regale you, not having to do all this manual labor myself? (Something tells me I'd find a way to have tales with which to regale you. I have a little sign in my office that reads, "All I ask is the chance to prove that money really can make me happy. Thus, by my very nature, I'd find a way to make everything wildly exciting--take repairing Karly's shoes yesterday--oh, now that's a funny story. I had to rubber them together because they came apart. The guy at Home Depot, a while back, told a lady, as he handed her a tube of rubber, "THIS will fix your problem--this fixes anything--it even fixes shoes!" Sure enough, as Karly's shoes fell apart yesterday, I rubbered them back together to hold him over until we can go get him new shoes tonight. I jokingly told him that I fixed his shoes--so no need to go buy new ones! Of course, there's more to the story, but I'll spare you.)

OMG--true story here--day before yesterday, I was driving home, and honest to gawd there was one of those plastic white geese, on an apartment balcony, posed--to be facing the traffic, WEARING A KHAKI OUTFIT!!!!! I s*** you not--it was--and I thought, "So THAT'S who would buy the fake white geese and buy the hokie Santa outfit. Not that I'm advocating the destruction of private property, but really, if somebody threw something at it from the road and knocked it down/broke it, well, I think that person would be doing all of us who drive past that apartment a big favor. The fact that I dress up my stuffed bunny rabbit Bella in my baby dress is not the same--and I keep that in my room, NOT on display for everybody to see who drives by my house. The two are totally separate issues. With that, speaking of issues, I must go and work on some of mine. TTFN Dahlinks!

April 19, 2010

OH-MAH-GAWD.... Can we talk? WTF gets into Tonbijou's head when the weekend rolls around? You've all heard the phrase "weekend warrior," no? Well, Tonbijou fashions herself as an expert _____________. (You fill in the blank, and chances are, I think I'm an expert at it.) Beyond that, I think that I can do whatever ___________ is, in a weekend, similar to how the crime scene investigators always manage to solve the murder mystery in one hour on prime time TV. I was able to knock out the tiles from the shower walls in a day--so that was good. The rip apart the whole bathroom and replumb the shower and sheetrock.... that took more than a weekend, and then, when the shower was good to go, I couldn't even start the shower.

Fast forward to this weekend. Instead of having the gloriously wonderful weekend I thought I would have been having--I ended up sitting in my front yard, pulling weeds on Saturday, thinking to myself, "OMG, my life sucks right now.... really??? I'm sitting here pulling weeds...??? $%*($*(*()$#$!@@@!!!" So I pulled weeds, and pulled more weeds, and kept pulling weeds. The darn things pop up EVERY friggin' day. I pull them, I spray weed killer on the roots, and still, more pop up--it's the never ending battle of Tonbijou vs. Dandelions. So far, it's Tonbijou 0, Dandelions 157.

About a month ago, two of my three little monkeys were with me in Lowe's and we got it into our head that we are going to grow a garden. Mind you, I can't grow grass in my yard, let alone a garden. (But I tell you what, I can grow the heck out of some dandelions!) We were not that ambitious for first time gardeners: corn, broccoli, carrots, parsnips, sugar snap peas, cabbage, cucumbers, cantaloupe, watermellon, giant pumpkins and sunflowers. Of course, we couldn't garden until the outdoor faucets were fixed (thank you o, unspoken one, for your incompetence in buggering up the outdoor faucets.) Did it dawn on me to start to prepare the ground for the garden? Why, no, of course not, because that could be done in a weekend, easily!

So, this was the weekend of gardening. Momma and Baby went out to scope the backyard for our prime garden spot. We found a place, and then that was the extent of our preparing the ground--because it wasn't going to take that long--what with the super-dee-duper three pronged little hand garden tiller to dig up the dirt. I could spend my day pulling weeds, instead, and having fun with Baby before being left, childless, to my own devices. My evening, sans children, was spent torturing myself at the gym, so that when my head would finally hit the pillow, I'd be such a worn out heap of mush that I'd pass out, unconscious, unable to think as even my brain cells would be worn out from the gym.

Sunday morning, I wake up, go to reclaim my monkeys who were off camping whilst another monkey is at his friend's house, having spent the night. I inform the monkeys that today, we are planting the garden. We get out every garden tool known to mankind, and then we make way to the backyard that, keep in mind, hasn't been watered in AGES (aside from natural precipitation, of course) as the stupid faucet that the unspoken one "fixed" hasn't worked because he didn't "fix" it. (Have you gathered that the unspoken one sucks at "fixing" things?) I walk off an area, about 10 ft. x 20 ft., and then we set to work--we are going to til the earth with our tools. The rock hard earth--tilled with our hand tools, 10 ft. x 20 ft. Yes, indeed. After about an hour and a half, we've cleared about a one foot square area out of our 10 ft. x 20 ft. garden. We work for another couple of hours--and accomplish pretty much nothing. I decide we should go to Lowe's to rent a tiller.

We go straight to Lowe's and see big, gorgeous tillers, on sale for $569. Yep, we're renting. That's until we get to the mower/tiller section, and for the bargain price of $199, I can buy my own tiller! It's not too big, I can manage it on my own, I don't want the electric tiller as I don't want to be encumbered by a cord, and really, only sissies get electric outdoor equipment. I'm way too sophisticated/macho for electric outdoor equipment. That would be as bad as a Black and Decker power tool vs. Dewalt. I mean really--a gal has to have some standards!

I procure said tiller, get it home, assemble it, mix the gas/oil and voila, I'm off to til the back garden area, ready to plant our garden by evening, for sure. I prime the pump. I have the choke set to 1, I've got the throttle pushed in--and I pull the string. Gosh--it was a short string--only about 10 inches. I pull quickly on the 10 inches of string--as the instructions said to pull the string 5 times before moving the choke to 2. I continue to pull the string. Nothing happens. I pull, nothing happens. I peer over the motor, looking at the spool around which the 10 inches of string are wound. There is more string. I pull--nothing more comes off from the spool. I stand on the tiller and pull--with both hands. I can barely get the spool to budge. I pull and pull with all my strength. Nothing happens. I wrestle with the string--exerting Herculean effort--and eventually, I manage to force some more string out of the tiller--but N-F-W am I able to pull the string out rapidly, 5-6 times, to start the tiller.

I dispatch an offspring to procure my neighbor. Karly surely supported the "Why don't you ask a man," solution. The neighbor comes to survey the scene and attempts to pull the string. He starts to pull on it and very quickly he says, "Something's not right with this...." and then he gets it to start, finally. It took an act of gawd and congress for HIM to pull the string, and he's about 4 times bigger than me. He hands me the tiller, which is revving away--and off I go to til the earth--bouncing and rattling up a storm, trying to control the tiller and figure out how I'm supposed to use the stupid thing. Imagine a dog taking a child for a walk--that's similar to how things went with the tiller. It rattled every bone in my body. I'm sure any fillings I have in my teeth have been rattled loose. I got a tiny bit more tilled--and then the darn thing cut off on me, and it was NOT starting again. I got so fed up with that stupid tiller that I packed it back up and went straight back to Lowe's.

I got to customer service and informed them I needed a lawn and garden person to come help me--to ascertain is the problem with the piece of equipment, or with me not being able to pull a string, because if it was the equipment, I'd exchange it and get another one, but if it's me, then I need a different tiller. The lawn and garden guy, also 4 times bigger than me, tries to pull the string--and can barely manage to get two feet worth of string out. He tries again--and it locks up. He says it's a defective tiller, and pulls out another one, same brand. I say we should check to make sure I can pull the string on that one--so he opens the box, and he tries to pull the string--it aint happening. He then takes the display model down from the shelf and tries that--evidently, it's a design flaw with that type of tiller, of which they've evidently not sold many. The Lowe's guy said if he had to use that tiller, he'd be cursing up a storm and wouldn't use it. He said he'd have to tell his manager what a crappy tiller it was and to let him know to expect them all to be returned because you can't pull the strings.

Mind you, I felt much better, particularly in light of the "Tonbijou can't turn on the shower faucet....." incident from last week, to know that it WASN'T me--I'm not a total weakling. The bad part was that the one tiller that I could pull the string easily on was way crazy expensive--and I mean, c'mon, it's not like I'm going to quit my dayjob and become a local farmer. At the end of the day, I am sad to report, I had to go with a wuss electric tiller. My ego is so deflated. It's almost so badly bruised that I'm ready to say the heck with a garden and just buy our veggies from the store, but then it would deprive you, my Dear and Gentle Readers, with exciting tales from the world of Tonbijou, and I can't let down my throngs of adoring fans, can I? (Hello.... is anybody out there reading this????) Yes, I know, you wonder what color the sky is in my world. It's PINK, of course! With that, I must bid you farewell for now. Ta ta Dahlinks.

April 16, 2010

Happy Birthday Little Man!

Today is my tiny baby's 9th birthday. Gosh, I feel so old--my youngest child is now 9 years old. He's thrilled, and I'm thrilled, as now I can take him with me out on the gym floor as kids have to be 9 or older to be out of the kidzone and on the floor. He hated being in the kidzone as his brothers were too old for it and he didn't like being there by himself while they were out on the floor. Now we can workout on the weekends when Baby is with us more often--we normally just go swimming when little man is with us.

Okay--so I never got to finish my Tool Time Toni's adventures in home repair/bathroom remodeling. I am covered in bruises from head to toe--big, dark, nasty looking bruises like I've been out on a golf ball driving range to collect balls without the protective cage around the cart. Working out at the gym is actually taking it easy in comparison to the 847 times up/down the stairs in one morning, carring large contractor size containers of joint compound, tools and what not. I have made so many trips to Lowe's. At one point, when a 2" 45 coupler was eluding us (I was there with my helpers, Karly, Colie and a child whom Aunt Mel brought with her, Emma), we stood there, vacant glazed looks in our eyes trying to find this particular part. Karly says, "Mom, why don't you just ask a man?" I gave him this incredulous, "I KNOW you didn't just suggest that I ask a man!" look. Everything that COULD go wrong with the shower remodel DID go wrong with the shower remodel--from the 56 different shower heads to the 92 shower faceplates.... (The old one somehow got discarded in the cleanup of all the mess. Turns out the faucet stem/fitting for a house built in 1989 is not what is used now--so it required either a new old style face plate, which is NOT easy to find unless you go to a specialty hardware/plumbing store--which I did, and then they had computer problems and were about to charge me for a third time for the same $63 part before they figured out I'd already paid for the one part twice already.....) Okay--so I got lucky that day (and let me tell you, it's been a LONG time since I got lucky) and yes, indeed, this was a quicky also whose luckiness didn't last long. When I screwed in the faucet handle to the faceplate, the fitting/stem leaked--BEHIND the newly installed shower wall. I called Aunt Mel--"I have good news, and bad news. The good news is the new part fits. The bad news is, the fitting leaks. BEHIND the wall." "Are you serious?" she asks. Oh, I would not joke about a thing like that. She consults her sweetie--"Hon, how hard would it be to pull that new shower surround wall apart from the liquid nails?" His reply, "It's liquid nails--you're not supposed to be able to pull it apart--that's why it's called liquid nails." She tells me that best case scenario, they can just replace the stem, no problem. Worst case scenario, they've got to replumb the entire faucet fitting. The bad news is that it might mean having to tear apart the new shower surround. The good news is it would mean I WOULD get to have the new Venetian bronze shower fixture after all--that I'd bought and returned 87 times to Lowes already.

I went to Lowe's, for the 495th time in 6 days, and stood in the plumbing aisle, in my pearls and pink "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?" Wizard of Oz shirt, looking like a helpless babe lost in the woods. I was near tears--at the end of my shower bathroom remodel from hell rope. A plumbing employee asks if I needed help. I replied I needed so much help, and nearly in tears, hysterical almost, explained the 452 different parts, not working, new faceplate, still leaks, behind the wall...... and he asks what is behind the wall. I replied the other bathroom--to which he gave a dismal, "Oh... that's bad." And then EUREKA! No--it wasn't bad--as the boys' medicine cabinet, which I'd just cleaned out the night before from all the old, expired children's motrin and what not, was framed--ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE SHOWER FITTING!!!!

I called Mel, excited at the thought of not having to rip apart (and buy ANOTHER new shower surround for $224--which, would suck considering that I'd never even showered in the first one...) the just installed, and liquid nailed, shower surround, if she could replumb the fitting from behind. She said she could do that. Aunt Mel is my hero. She is going to be sainted, I'm sure. She and Joe arrived on the scene shortly with shark bites--some type of super no-torch/soldering needed couplings. They sent me to Lowe's, AGAIN, to get more parts, and entrusted me to get more shark bite couplers. Those are evidently a Home Depot brand, as Lowe's has Gator Grips or something like that. I was proud in that I was able to find the part--WITHOUT the need to "ask a man." (I swear I can't believe MY child said such a blasphemous thing!)

Well, to make a really long story shorter than it could be otherwise (I haven't even begun to mention the splitting the door jam escapade--oh THAT was fun!), by the end of the evening on Wednesday, I had a newly installed, newly re-plumbed shower, Venetian bronze finish--with freshly caulked that just needed to cure before I could shower in it. Mind you, I still had lots of sheetrock work to do--but that can be done (and I am THE sheetrock queen!) separately from being able to use the shower.

While all that was going on, and in between layers of joint compound, which, as I mentioned yesterday, at times ended up in my nose, I had to work on other things to give the joint compound time to dry. So, while working on the shower, walls etc., I managed to get a few other things done around the house:
-vacuum/sweep the garage
-vacuum/clean out my Jeep
-polish the silver
-clean the glass stove top with glass stove top cleaner
-dust ever piece of crystal in the china cabinet (if you haven't seen my china cabine, that's a LOT of crystal)
-retexture the bedroom ceiling
-prime/retexture/paint the family room ceiling where the *$(*()#$(()$%&!!!! shower had leaked and caused water damage
-dust all the furniture
-clean out the refrigerator and then clean the refrigerator
-paint the wall by the new door frame that I just installed

There are a few other things that made it onto the list--running errands and what not. I tried to fit in a pedicure at Bambi's salon, but she was in class and her witch teacher wouldn't let her take a client. In any event, fast forward 24 hours--the caulk has cured. It's now evening time, I'm ready to take my shower. I cut off all the lights, well--after I swap out some compact flourescent bulbs and clean up some more things. I then cut off all the lights outside of my bedroom. I make my way to the new shower--there is dust and debris in the bottom of the shower to clean up before I take a shower. I get it all clean. I hand the vinyl shower curtain inside the decorative fabric curtain. I am undressed. I am standing by the shower, in eager anticipation of my first shower in my new, non-leaking shower, with the beautiful, Venetian bronze fixture. I go to turn on the water--and the faucet won't turn. I push it harder. It won't budge. I try turning it the other way. It won't move. I try and try and try and try and try and try and try--and nothing happens. There is no water. There is nothing. I can't cut on my new shower. I'm standing there thinking, "WTF???? Are you friggin' kidding me? I can't cut on the shower???"

Now, mind you, I'm 41 years old and I've traveled the world--taking showers in many places--and never have I had trouble cutting on the shower. (To be honest, in Prague, in the bathroom, I did have trouble realizing that the Huskova's tub was plumbed backwards and hot was really cold and cold was really hot--but I was still able to at least start the flow of water.) I was afraid, after all the hassle to fix things, that if I pushed too hard, I'd break something. As you know, I have biceps of steel, so I was sure my massive strength would break a new copper pipe, indeed. (Yes, the same massive biceps that couldn't get a faucet to budge....)

I called Aunt Mel, frantic, and left a message--"Um, yeah.... uh.... well, I can't start the shower. Is there anything in particular, something special I need to do to the faucet to get it to work??? Please call me back..." She calls me back shortly and informs me that all I need to do is turn the handle and voila--water! I informed her that no, it actually WASN'T working like that--I couldn't turn the handle. Aunt Mel was like, "Are you serious?" Aunt Mel teases me constantly--"Like what, are you a size negative 3 or something? I didn't know people could be as thin as you and actually be alive..." I know she means it in the nicest way possible. She thought it was because I wasn't strong enough to turn the faucet--yet I was strong enough to schlepp that friggin pre-hung door up the stairs and split the jam myself and install it myself--yet I'm too weak to cut on a shower faucet? I think not. I voiced my concern about breaking a pipe--so she tells me, before I do anything more, where the main water shut off is under the house. I'm standing there in my birthday suit, listening to her tell me where to go under the house at 10:30 at night to cut off the main water shut off, in the event a pipe breaks. Only in my world.....

I took a box cutter and pulled the little cap off the area where the screw attaches the handle to the fitting. I take it apart--looking at all the pieces. There's a white piece that fits inside of it--that when I screw the handle back in, sometimes, I can get the water to run, but it runs only hot or only cold, and once cut on, it won't cut off. I then remove that little plastic piece. Voila, the shower works--with warm water, that I can cut on AND cut off. I look at the diagram for the faucet assembly and it APPEARS that the little plastic piece SHOULD be installed--as it was, only the shower won't work with it installed. I uninstall it, the shower works. I install it per the instructions, the shower won't work. I finally decided that, unlike the time I took apart and reassembled my computer printer, a missing part in this instance DIDN'T seem to affect performance.... so I left the stupid part out and finally, with much ado about nothing, was able to take my first shower in my new shower. I was too tired at the end of it all to run downstairs and make sure no water was leaking through the ceiling--because I'd had too much trauma for one evening already. That can wait for tonight.

With that latest upate in my wildly exciting life, I leave you to your own devices. Ta Ta Dahlinks.

April 15, 2010

Happy Tax Filing Day!

I'm sure for some of you, it's maybe not such a happy day, so sorry if you're one of those people--unless you are the unspoken one, in which case you probably cheated on your taxes already and I wish an audit upon you. (No, I'm not bitter at all.)

You may notice it's been a while since I last wrote. That's because yours truly has been INSANELY busy, working on the bathroom from hell! I have worked my fingers to the nub--to the point where Saturday night/Sunday morning, as I finally went to bed at 3 in the morning, the flesh on my fingers was throbbing. I am banged up and bruised all over from schlepping large, heavy objects upstairs. I have been covered in sheetrock dust and gotten joint compound up my nose.

April 6, 2010

Happy Day After Easter,

I'd say good day to you all, but I'm a bit out of it--what with all that sheet rock dust up my nose and my mold allergies kicking in with a vengeance. I can tell where this is going. Like I said--some people are just a hazard to your health. Most likely, by the end of the week, I'll have a massive sinus infection that will lead to bronchitis if I don't nip it in the bud, and I never nip it in the bud, but this time, I sure as heck will. The toilet and vanity get ripped out tomorrow, to totally pull up all the crap that was done in December of 2008. Considering I've not even been able to use the shower since oh, October of last year, suffice it to say there was MAJOR water damage in just that short while.

So yesterday, at Easter lunch, Aunt Theresa's husband and I were sitting together eating. I asked him what he was doing during the week he was taking off from work, as Theresa is a teacher and has off for spring break. He told me he had lots of work to do on/around the house. I told him that immediately after lunch, it was time to gut my bathroom. I told him how last weekend, I'd knocked out all the tile and this weekend, the rest was getting gutted. "You're doing this yourself?" he asked. I told him that yes, with help from Aunt M. and Uncle J. "Really? I didn't take you to be the type to get your hands dirty..." and he said it with a completely straight face. Now, mind you, it couldn't possibly be because I was sitting there in a prissy pink dress, with impossibly prissy shoes, and impossibly perfectly prissily manicured nails, topped off by an even more so impressively prissy hat (though to be fair, it was NOT on my head during lunch, rather, it was safely resting on their bed, away from people who would mess up said prissy hat.)

Alas, as time came to get to work, I divested my perfectly prissy profusion of pink--and threw on old jeans and an even older t-shirt and got to work. By the time the day's work was done, I was covered in sheet rock dust and dirt. It just goes to show that you can't judge a book by its perfectly pink cover.

I have a confession to make. I raided chocolate from the kids' Easter baskets. Yes--their litte Dove milk chocolate bunnies. They are so good--I can down one in two bites. WHY the Easter Bunny thought to put such a tempting treat into their baskets, I have NO idea. Well, unfortunately, I must bid you all farewell as I have utterly important matters at hand to which I must attend. Ta Ta Dahlinks!

April 5, 2010

Happy Easter Everybody,

Well, I'd like to wax poetic about Easter, but I can't, as I can barely type, as even my fingers are worn out from the work of ripping out the bathroom floor. If it weren't for the fact that I don't use people's real names in my blog, I'd put that idiot-meister-incompetent-plumber-jerry-rigging-shower-botcher-upper's real name, and address, in the blog so that people could know, men and women alike, to give this person a wide berth to avoid running into this person. His home repair plumbing skills, as previously evidenced by BOTH outdoor faucets' pipes bursting, did a friggin' half a**ed job on the bathroom shower as well. We already know that from the ultimate jerry rigging job done back last year, but turns out, the awesome job he did fixing things back Christmas before last--OMG, when Aunt M and Uncle J were here to help me with the shower--I ripped out the floor so that we could re-do everything. I'm almost thinking it'd be easier to just gut the entire bathroom, all the sheetrock and everything, and start over. Honest to gawd, there was mold between the vinyl tile idiot-meister-jackass put down--so now, the semi-sub floor (don't ask) that idiot-meister-jackass put down has to come up. At least this time, we'll do it right. HOOAH Girl Power!!!!! All I can say is that I feel so sorry for the poor fools who are unfortunate enough to have encountered him. He is the type of person who needs to come with a warning label--seriously. It would read something like, "Entering into a relationship with this neanderthal WILL be hazardous to your health, both physical and mental, and if you are dumb enough to believe he can do home repair work, it will cost you less in the long run to hire somebody to do it. You have been warned!!!!" Seriously--the amount of medical/mental copays and having to unbotch up his jerryrigging jobs--really, NOBODY can be THAT desperate for a relationship.

Nature has a way of warning us when something is harmful to us--too bad we ignore those red flags waving furiously in the wind. Lord knows I sure did--and look at what it got me. I mean, think of the poison arrow frogs--those bright colors, they look so pretty, but they are deadly. it is the same thing with brightly colored/patterned poisonous snakes. Usually, the brighter/prettier something is, the more toxic it is. Idiot-meister-incompetent-plumber-jerry-rigging-shower-botcher-upper is like that--oh, he's a pretty boy on the outside, for sure, but on the inside, he's as full of toxic poison as a baby scorpion, brittle sea star, funnel web spider, king cobra... all combined. I guess, considering that we have snakes, pets and lizards for pets, I must not be one to recognize creepy crawlies as much as the next person.

So, with this latest update in my wildly exciting life, I must leave you to your own devices as I try to get some of this sheet rock dust out of my nose. Ta ta dahlinks.

April 2, 2010

Happy Good Friday to my Dear and Gentle Readers,

I am truly delighting in all that is spring--particularly the tulips in my front yard. Unfortunately, the big bag of tulip bulbs I bought in the fall never made it into the ground, as it seems that when it was warm enough to be outside, it was raining. Then, when it wasn't raining, it was bitter cold and the ground was frozen solid--with two feet of snow on top of it. Then, by the time the snow melted, it was nearly springtime. The positive side of it is that this fall, I don't have to buy a bag of bulbs to plant--I'll just plant what we should have planted last year. (At least I keep telling myself that's what we'll do, just like I told myself that this past fall....) Planting tulip bulbs, so long as the weather cooperates, is really easy, in that I just go and put tulip bulbs on the ground where I want them planted and then the boys have to get to work planting them. Slave labor--I can see why so many cultures throughout the existence of mankind have relied upon it.

In celebration of spring, I am properly swathed in a profusion of pink. I was out last night searching for the perfect pink top/jacket/wrap/shawl to go with my pink dress that goes with my pink hat--and had NO success. (As you can well imagine, Baby was SO thrilled to accompany momma on her quest.) This morning, I broke out my epitome of springtime floral print jacket I got on clearance in Budapest year before last and had an epiphany--IT MATCHES THE PINK DRESS THAT MATCHES THE PINK SHOES THAT MATCH THE PINK PURSE THAT MATCHES THE PINK HAT that lived in the house that Jack built. I am now appropriately accessorized and attired for the holiday weekend. Mind you, I will have to wear a different pink dress than the one I imagined I'd wear, and that one still needs an appropriate pink wrap/shawl/jacket.... as it's a plethora of pink print, and you SO can't wear a pink print with a pink print.... Oh--but I forgot I wanted to wear the black and pink poppy print shoes with the solid pink dress.... but then that won't match the white and pink print jacket. Oh sometimes it is so difficult being me.

While I am off to ponder what to do, what to wear, I will leave you to your own devices.

April 1, 2010

Happy April Fools Day to you all!

As I was getting ready for work this morning, I SO fell for the April Fools prank the weatherguy did on the news this morning. He talked about what a warm weekend we had in store--true, and then mentioned that, unfortunately, there is a cold front moving in and we're expecting another snow storm. I was MAD! My tulips and wisteria are about to bloom darnit all and then the cold is going to come and kill off all my beautiful blooms!.... and then I remembered... "Oh, it's April Fools Day..." On that note, my tulips are about to bloom!!!! They are perfectly timed for Easter. Right now, the pale pink buds are about to burst into bloom, and they look like pale pink Easter eggs, perched atop willowy stems. Soon they will be in their full splendor. This will make our visit to the park on Saturday delightful as I am sure their tulip beds will be in full bloom.

Aslo, it is Maundy Thursday. Years ago, I asked a preacher why Maundy Thursday was called Maundy Thursday, and he said something to the effect of he forgot why--he once knew, of course, but now, as a man of the cloth, he'd forgotten such a thing. For shame for shame. Here is what I found in my insatiable quest to know the why of things. "The word "Maundy" is derived from the Latin mandatum meaning "command" - the same Latin root as mandatory and mandate. This is a reference to Christ's commandment to love one another, made at the Last Supper (the day before the crucifixion) when Jesus washed His disciples' feet." I found that at this link. Thus, go ye forth and forgetteth not the significance of Maundy Thursday! Most importantly, remember the commandment itself--love each other already!

On an unrelated note, yesterday I was faced with a dilemma. I had to sign a letter with my new name. HOW to sign it???? When you sign something, the signature itself makes a statement--is it neat and legible, sloppy and chicken scratch? Is it uptight and formal looking, laid back and loopy, with lots of open space in the letters? WHAT TO DO???? I had to practice writing my new signature--trying variations of how to write it--and then asked one of my assistant's for her opinion. She thought my new name demanded a stuffy, more uptight, formal signature, so that won. It is very perfect--extremely legible, unlike my old signature. Mind you, 20 years from now, once I've gotten used to signing it, and it comes second nature, then it might be less formal/perfect, and look more like a neurosurgeon's signature as did my old one, but for now, it's ultra uptight and stuffy, if a signature can be such a thing. See all the things you encounter when you change your name?

On a totally unrelated note, there is the DUMBEST-as in D-U-M-B-E-S-T "news" article that has lately been online. It is a shocker--after having a baby, women are not as likely to want to have sex as the man is. UH-DUH. Really--is this something that we didn't already know, as in the sun rises in the East and sets in the West? Next thing you know, there's going to be a headline article, "Scientist recently announced that the sun DOES actually rise in the East and are pretty certain it sets in the West..." OMG--REALLY is this the best you can give us? Of course, the author blathered on about how it takes time for a woman's body, hormones, level of desire, amount of sleep.... to get back to normal. One guy, in the comments that followed the article, wrote, "My kid is 20 years old now and she STILL hasn't gotten back to normal..." That was funny.

Well, I must leave you all to your own devices now. I hope that you get out and enjoy this gorgeous weather!

March 31, 2010

Hello Mah Leetl Lammiekins,

Well, it is official--I need to branch out from the opera ball and try a new, exhilarating history high. I AM going to go to an imperial ball, at an imperial palace. Initially, I thought it would not be possible, as the price was $10,730 for a single person. (Not that couples/double occupancy was much better, at $8,560 each) but turns out, that was for 4 days in a 5 star hotel, tours at all of the palaces and living the life of the fabulously wealthy, as opposed to single mom state employee. However, I heard from the organizers of the ball and yes, indeed, is IS possible to buy a ticket itself and skip the 5 star hotel. Thus begins the "fun" that all of my friends warned me of with my name change.

To go to this country requires a visa. To get a visa, it requires a passport. I have a passport, in my old name. I have a hotel rewards card, with rewards points, in my old name. I was going to use the rewards points to get the hotel room in the country that requires a visa, and then use that reservation to get the visa--only by the time I get around to getting a visa, then my passport will have changed names and be different from the name on the hotel reservations. So, I went to change my hotel rewards information so that they can be made in my new name, in anticipation of the need for a visa. I can change everything BUT my name myself. I have to call to get my name changed. I called to change my name. The "nice" customer service representative, when I said I needed my name changed, asked, "WHY--what's wrong with it?!" "It's not my name anymore." "We need proof of name change faxed to us...." It's a friggin hotel rewards card--it's not like it's any kind of official ANYTHING. So, before I can book the hotel, I've got to change my name, so that then I can get the visa, but I've got to get a new passport first.... Hey, at least the ticket for the ball is reserved in my new name. My HR department changed my name with no problem--but my hotel rewards card needs proof. WTF????

I am SO looking forward to being in this palace. The last time I was in it, eons ago, I was fascinated by the construction of the drapes. I'm sure that this time, my fascination will transcend such base things as drapes. You so know I am going to have to get good pictures! There should be ballet and exquisite dining and it will be mahveluz indeed! I'm so excited I can't see straight. Now it means that I've got to change the design of the dress, though it wasn't completely designed yet anyway, as you can't wear high heels on the palace's parquet floors. Flats are in order, which, if you're a true ball goer, you know high heels are highly overrated anyway, what with being on your feet until the wee hours of the morning..... But still--now I've got to figure out appropriate footwear and redesign the front of the gown to hide flats. (Otherwise, it was the heck with comfort, I was going for daringly dramatic, which requires heels, as the opera house has temporary floor they use for their balls as opposed to original 18th century parquet.) I will miss Budapest for sure, but then again, I've been there 3 times in less than 2 years and I've not been back to this country once in over 15 years. How can I deprive that country any longer of my presence? With that, my darling little lambs, I bid you farewell for now.

March 30, 2010

Hello Dahlinks,

A funny thing happened whilst digging through all of my papers for court. In my trunk, the treasure trove of all things great and wonderful over the last 20+ years, I found papers from high school. Do you recall when it would be the first day of school and your teachers would take roll and then ask, "If there's any other name you prefer to be called, please let me know..." So I decided to have a different name in each class. I went by Mitta, Muckie, Babette, Emelia, Fifi--yes, I know, some of you surely have dogs named Fifi, but hey--you can't imagine some of the names I've given my pets. I once named my favorite tarantula Pryscylla Babette, after the Scylla of antiquity, and then another tarantula was named Antoinette, and another one was Polly Anne. I don't know what happened on that one, I must have been having a down moment, but she was as much of a Polly Anne tarantula as you can have. The most odd name a tarantula had was Oeschwilde--in hommage to my love of the German language, though I have no earthly idea if it actually meant something or was a real name. So see, my kids didn't fare nearly as poorly as they could have fared in the whole name game thing.

My dearest sis in Moscow wrote me and it made me laugh. She said I never surprised her with news of my latest "what's new in my world," and she said that it is believed people who change their names often can change their destiny. I say AMEN to that! I can use some different destiny FOH SHOH! Today, at work, one of the janitorial staff was with the rest of the janitorial staff, and I am friends with them/know their names, but I didn't know his name. I asked him his name, and he said, "I'm James, and who are you?" to which I replied, "I'm Toni (not that my name is Toni, but it's short for Tonbijou; you know I have name issues when I have nicknames for my nicknames)--oh, wait, no I'm not! I'm....." and then told him my new moniker. He busted out laughing and Olver was there--so he laughs to Olver, "Can you believe I asked her who she was and she said one thing and then said, "Oh, wait, no I'm not..." Olver said, "Well, that's because last week, she WAS Ms. Toni, but then she went and changed it, and this week, she's now Ms. ......." James thought that was the funniest thing he'd heard (not that he thought my new moniker was funny, but rather that I forgot who I was)--we all got a good laugh out of it.

On an unrelated note, spring, glorious spring, is here at last almost! I'm going to spend my Saturday with Baby at the park, taking pictures of the flowers and Japanese gardes/koi fish. I'm going to find time to stain the deck, which will need power washing beforehand. Hm--we shall see if I feel THAT industrious. I doubt it. In any event, the weather will be wonderful and mom and Baby will have a wonderful Easter Sunday together.

In one last unrelated note, in the book I'm reading now, The Crusades Through Arab Eyes, there is an Arab proverb which I find to be quite good--"Kiss the arm you cannot break, then pray to God to break it." Ponder on that, if you will. With that, I bid you farewell.

March 29, 2010

Hello my Dear and Gentle Readers,

I hope that the beginning of the week finds you relaxed from a weekend of respite. If not, and you are like me, you are glad that the official work week has begun so that you can take it easy, compared to how hard you work over the weekend. Alas, I was unable to sleep late on Saturday, lacking one little piece of paper was I that the court would need to tend to the utterly important business to which they are tending for me. It required waking at 6:30 to go procure eventually needed piece of paper. That was not fun. However, afterwards, it did warrant a dozen hot now donuts from Krispy Kreme, and everybody knows hot now donutes make EVERYTHING better.

Upon returning home, I then had a ton of work to do. I was feeling frustrated with the lack of progress on the bathroom, but that stems from not really knowing what to do or how to do it. I did, however, know, that eventually the walls would have to come out and be re-sheetrocked with moisture resistant sheetrock. In order for the sheetrock to come off, the wall tile would have to come down. Thus, Tonbijou got her safety goggles and a hammer and went to town.

It was more theraputic than writing a blog dissing stupid idiots for their idiocy. There was on person in particular who has been the recent object of my wrath. As there were a few perfect tiles in the 6 inch heap of tiles in my shower floor, Colie said to me, "Hey, momma, you could pretend like this tile is that person's face...." I needed no more urging than that. I started smashing tile into little pieces--and with each big piece of tile, I would let an obscenity fly, and a choice body part of this person, have it. I theraputically/metaphorically smashed this person's teeth, eyeballs, skull.... Yes, there are holes in the wall, but no worries, as it's all got to come down anyway. There were a few remaining tiles on the wall, which were to represent this pathological liar's privates--and boy did I smash away. It was the most fun I'd had in AGES. At one point, I was literally sitting in the shower floor--all tile was off of the walls, in the floor beneath me, and I just kept smashing and smashing and smashing--for every lie, every mean thing--the insults, you name it--I smashed. Before long, I was laughing my butt off in the shower floor, having so much fun. If you haven't tried it, it's a really great, safe way to vent your anger. The only way it could have been better is if I had written this person's name on the tiles. That reminds me, I need to write this nefariously mendacious miscreant's name on my golf balls and ping pong balls. It looks like some smack down golf/ping pong is in order foh-shoh.

In addition to that, we picked up our ceramic pieces--I'm happy with the tray that I painted and the boys' pieces look adorable. I got my nails done--they match my in-your-face hat that I might wear for Easter. We did grocery shopping, yard work--cut the grass, trimmed edges, pulled weeds.... Oh yes, and idiot dingleberry who did the plumbing last year--the other pipe burst outside. Not only is this person's ability to tell the truth greatly impeded, but this person's ability to do/fix anything around the house is as crap as this person's moral fortitude.

The house inside was in need of attention as I spent so much time digging through everything to find the paperwork I needed for court. I dug--and left the mess everywhere until this weekend to sort through all the old crap that was outdated/no longer needed and had to shred a ton of things. Of course, that meant my shredder jammed on me. Furniture got dusted, old pictures got rifled through--and I'm proud as punch to report that the picture that I found more of in my frantic paper searching quest, Bambi's one-month picture that the idiot-meister-incompetent-plumber-jerry-rigging-shower-botcher-upper insisted I destroy lest this person do to me what I did to the tile, is now displayed in the exact same picture frame as the destroyed picture had been in since she was one month old. It brought great joy to my face to serve up a dose of hearty F*** you, you idiot-meister-incompetent-plumber-jerry-rigging-shower-botcher-upper.

In my stuff sorting and mess cleaning, I found old cards and notes--some from as far back as high school. I found Bambi's Mother's Day notes--"Hape Mothers Day," one of them said, which she wrote herself. I had so much fun looking at all of my happy memories. I was also glad that now we can almost play ping pong in the garage again. Outside, in addition to pulling weeds, I had to pull up a ton of mint. I planted mint last year and it evidently grows/travels through its root system. My flower garden was full of mint--everywhere, as in a ground covering that will suffocate/smother out all the other stuff.

Also over the weekend, I was forced to buy more books. I got a 40% off coupon for the bookstore down the street--good for 2 days only, Friday and Saturday, so of course, I couldn't let it go to waste. Then, it turns out that they sent another coupon, an extension of the other one, also 40% off, good for Sunday only, so of course I couldn't let that one go to waste either.... Today, wadda ya know, another coupon! Only today, it's only 25% off, so I'm not going to use that one. I'll hold out for another 40% off coupon. I already know what I'm going to get.

As you know, I've already started designing my next ball gown--but this time, I think I might opt for something different--an imperial ball in Russia! True, I know that they are no longer an empire run by an emperor, but that is a minor detail. It would be a good reason to visit friends in Russia and what could be more exciting than an imperial ball in one of the Tzar/Tzarina's palaces? Does it get better than that? I don't think so. I will have to look into that foh shoh.

Well, with that latest update in our wildly exciting lives, I wish you all a wonderful day.

March 26, 2010

Hello my darling little lambs,

I had another wonderful, mahveluz day yesterday. I made it to the courthouse to tend to the utterly pressing matters at hand. When I got home, I took note of the hyacinth blooming and their fragrant smell filled the air around them. The boys had scouts last night and I had errands to run--I wanted to buy the green shoes that I didn't buy the week before because, well, since when in my years have I EVER needed bright green shoes? In the week since I passed on buying them, I bought bright green silk for my next ballgown and then I bought a green and black dress--hence the reason I needed to go buy the bright green shoes. I was hoping against hope they were still there.

When I got to Dillard's, not only were they not out on the sale rack, there were no sale racks. I wandered aimlessly, looking for any other bright green shoes that may be out this season, to no avail. A nice sales woman asked if I needed help. I asked what happened to all the shoes that had been out on clearance and she said they were being sent to another store--they were already packed up. I asked if a note could go with them--if they had the size 7 1/2 bright green pumps by Guess, could they hold them for me--to which she replied if I knew what I wanted, she could check and see if they were there--and they were! Thus, I got the bright green shoes.

After I took the boys to scouts (yes, they had to endure the bright green shoe quest), I went to Marshall's. I love that store--no telling what you will find there from visit to visit. On this visit, I decided to check out the baby girl clothes. Now that Baby knows his dad's girlfriend is having a baby girl, we can get cute girlie things. I found a onesie t-shirt that said, "Baby Sister" on it and then a cute pink outfit with little panda bears on it that was adorable! I took the items to the counter and the cashier said, "Oh aren't those adorable!" I agreed and said that I was so happy to finally have a little girl to buy cute things for--at which point she asked for whom I was buying them, as they obviously weren't for me--considering my ultra flat tummy. "Oh, these are for my youngest son's dad's pregnant girlfriend's baby..." The woman looked at me with a puzzled look on her face, as in, "Did I hear you correctly?" I just said that I was above all the petty acrimony and meanness. As I walked to my car, I was laughing--you've got to admit--that was pretty funny. With that, I bid you farewell.

March 25, 2010

Greetings my Dearest Darlings,

Oh what a wonderful day yesterday was--I got to wear my new, hot pink shoes! Yes, I understand that might seem totally lame, but I've long said that I SO need to get a life! Now are you starting to believe me? In addition to wearing my new hot pink shoes (which, by default, meant I wore my hot pink suit that I always felt not quite 100% wearing on account of the shoes--but NOT anymore!), I got my painting! She handed me the package, which I gently unwrapped and it was beyond beautiful. It was even more gorgeous than I remembered--because one, it truly WAS more gorgeous, and two, because this one was MINE! She did such an exquisite job of painting this swan. It's got a soft, impressionist style about it.

She delivered it to me at work and she is so nice! I had only interacted with her by email/over the phone, so this was my first time meeting her in person. She is as beautiful as her painting, as as kind as she is beautiful. I took my beautiful swan painting back up to my office and showed it off to my coworkers. They asked if I was going to name the swan--because I name everything. I hadn't thought about it, but upon being prompted, of course, it made sense that I would name the swan, as I name everything. My Jeep is named Red, or Little Red--that's Karly's choice. He just named her out of the blue, unbeknownst to me, when I was considering trading her in on a Prius. (Thank GAWD I didn't, what with all the 4 feet of snow we got over the winter and oh, yeah, all the recalls on the Prius....) Karly said, "But I don't want to get rid of Red..." and that's how I learned my Jeep's name is Red--which is also the color of my Jeep, in case you are wondering.

Thus, upon reflection, I named the swan Odette, after Odette in Swan Lake. I've seen that ballet as many times as I've seen Giselle. I explained to my coworkers the story of Swan Lake--how Odette was put under a spell by an evil sorcerer and the spell could only be broken by true love--and then her true love pledged his love to Odile at the ball--whom he thought was Odette--as Odile was disguised as Odette.... So as I'm explaining this to my friends at work, they are looking at me like I've got 4 heads. I tell them that ballet is full of revenge and passion--and then I told them about the story line of Giselle--jilted lovers, jealous dead jilted women in the graveyard whose spirits come out at night to capture the deceitful, double crossing, skirt chasing men who broke the women's hearts. When the men come to visit the gravesites of the women who loved them, and thus died of a broken heart over the men's deception, the jilted dead women spirits make the man stay in the graveyard to dance until he dies. What can I say--they've got issues. So, Giselle's lying fiance comes to visit her grave and the angry women spirits try to make him dance to his death, only Giselle loves him so much, even though he's the reason she died of a broken heart, that she protects him through the night and in the morning, he can leave the cemetery, only he can never come back to visit her grave again. With that explanation of the passion of ballet, my friends told me I really need to get a life. (That appears to be a recurring theme, no?)

However, back to my painting--so the swan's name is Odette, and the painting's name is "Odette in Repose." In my mind, Odette is going over in her mind, in a quiet moment, the lies carried out against her, which is not really a very relaxing thing to do, as much as it is a source of aggitation. However, it's a quiet moment in Odette the swan's life and it's in that passing moment of respite that she's thinking of what might had been--she's calm and serene, above the deception--and then she lets what might have been pass from her mind.... Thus, we have "Odette in Repose."

With that, my DAGR, I bid you farewell for now.

March 24, 2010

Hello My Dear and Gentle Readers,

OMG what a wonderful thing happened last night, indeed! It sort of sucked, but it was great nonetheless. I was rooting around trying to find that which I needed to take to the courthouse. I searched high and low--everywhere I would have ever put a piece of important paper--yet it was, unfortunately, nowhere to be found. I found anything/everything else you could imagine--pay stubs from 1995, insurance policy handbooks from 3 jobs/insurers ago--but could I find what I needed? Heck no. Did I find something I wanted? HELL YES!

Now, I try not to go down this road as I ignored the "Danger ahead, bridge demolished, danger to all who venture beyond this point" red flags waving furiously in the wind not too long ago, and going down this road only upsets me. I reflect upon this great and wonderful country--that we have freedom that many others in various countries do not have. I don't know what infuriates me more--that someone deceived me, or that, once said deception was known, I continued to allow myself to be with a deceptive person and beyond that, I WILLINGLY relinquished my freedom to an overbearing, insanely jealous lunatic. As a result of his jealous insecurities, he lit into me with a vengeance upon seeing, covered in dust out in the garage, a family picture of my daughter, Bambi, on her 1 month old birthday, (keep in mind, she's almost 21) with her dad and I together in the picture with me holding her. In his fit of rage, he made me destroy the picture to appease him, as there was no way he would tolerate me having a picture of my ex-husband, "lovingly displayed" he said, as if I still had feelings for him. (I tried to point out the fact that it was covered in an inch of dust, out in the garage--but it made no difference to him.)

Mind you, I try to ignore any unpleasant memories of this person--but the one thing that came back to haunt me, out of all the horrible things that went on/were said during this time of darkness with him, was that her baby picture was destroyed--and that I didn't stand strong and tell him to pack his s*** and get the hell out of my house and don't ever contact me again. (I did do that eventually--just, unfortunately, not then.) Keep in mind, this person had no children of his own, so he didn't even remotely try understand the significance of baby pictures.

The attic was a source of contention. I LOVE pictures--I have pictures of darn near any/everything that ever happened in my life after I turned 18. (I avoided cameras before I turned 18 as I had crooked teeth, so I've been making up for it ever since.) He kept insisting that he'd never lower his standards (oh that's a joke--a lowly worm has higher standards than he had--but evidently the standards applied to everyone BUT him) to ever live in MY house so long as there was a single picture of an ex anywhere in my house--regardless of if they were in a baby's first birthday picture or not--I'd better destroy them if I wanted him to live in my house. For starters, at that point, the fog was starting to lift and I thought, "Hm.... yeah, maybe I don't want you to live in my house..." but I told him essentially that there were dusty boxes in the attic that had gawd only knows what in them, and the heck if I was going to go in the attic just for s**** and giggles to dig through boxes to appease his monster jealousy. I said that when I had a reason to go in the attic, I'd go in the attic, and when I had occassion to look in a box, I'd look in a box--and worry about what was in what box when and where at that time.

So, last night was one of those times. I dug through every box in my attic looking for this paperwork I needed. Unfortunately, I did NOT find the paperwork, but what I DID find--you got it--more of those baby pictures that I destroyed on account of that jackass. I was so elated! I was angry at myself that someone as strong, independent and capable as I am was so desperate to be in a relationship, so desperate to get married, that I was willing to settle for someone so downright mean and viscious. We have a Constitution, a Bill of Rights--we have freedoms that people have fought and died for--and I let him take those away from me, all in the name of "I do it because I love you..." Thank gawd I finally realized that if that was what love and marriage to him would entail, I wanted NO parts of it!

So--I have more of Bambi's 1 month birthday pictures--LOTS more, and I'm so thankful. I will never destroy another baby picture again, regardless of if an ex is in the picture of not, and I will know if anybody ever even suggests such a thing, to send him packing IMMEDIATELY. Now, I've just got to shred a ton of old insurance policies and crap that were unearthed as a result of my attempt to find that which I needed. It was all worth it to get that picture. I am happy, indeed--though I am single, with no plans for a relationship, let alone marriage anywhere on the horizon--I had more happiness in seeing those pictures than you can imagine. Happiness cannot be found in oppression, and where there is oppression, there is not love. So, as you go through your day, may you find happiness in the little things around you.

March 23, 2010

Hello My Darling Little Lambs,

Gracious, I've certainly had too many chemicals in my hair lately as they have turned my brain cells to absolutel mush! I nearly overwrote my update from the weekend, which overwrote my update from the day before and I so KNOW you all just live for my updates, no? (Sad indeed--who needs a life more--me for writing about the utterly mundane musings of a single mom with no life, or you, DAGR, for actually reading them????)

In any event, I FINALLY finished that gawd awful book, "Justinian's Flea." For those of you who think I can't focus and ramble on and on and on and on ad infinitum, I seem the poster child of organized, rational thought in comparison. No sooner had I finished that book than I started with another, but not with my newest new book, rather my last new new book, "Year of Wonder," as opposed to "The Decameron," by Giovanni Boccacio, or something/someone like that. Both works tend to the plague genre. I really must become fascinated by some other genre. I imagine what will happen is that, just as I've outread the plague genre specialist at the bookstore, eventually, I'll have read all of the plague genre books and will have to move on to something else. Hopefully whatever my next fascination is, it will be less depressing the the Holocaust or plague.

I had an epiphany Sunday night/Monday morning which kept me awake, unable to sleep so excited was I! I have an idea for my next ballgown and when that happens, I simply can't sleep until it takes shape in my brain. It has taken shape and will be daringly dramatic--my most avant garde design yet. Mind you--where I could get away with such a thing????? It will put the "V" in vixen, the "D" in daring--now I just have to find a way to defy the laws of gravity and voila--instant, gorgeous, daringly dramatic gown. I bought the silk for it yesterday. Too bad it's not pink--as this means I still must come up with a new gown for the Pink Tie Gala. The fabric store had sold out of the in-your-face-fuscia silk I wanted. Just imagine--I can be out on the golf course on a Saturday afternoon in my ultra uptight conservative plaid golf shorts and then, pull a Cinderella and morph into ballgown goddess. I can SO pull that off!

Beyond that, let's see--we finally got the vanity I wanted for my bathroom and this week, I'm going to knock out one of the walls. I've got the tile for the floor, the vanity--then I will get the shower pan next. Every so often, I'll just add to my collection--it makes me feel a sense of accomplishment, similar to how just HAVING the waterblocking deck stain makes me feel better--like I've accomplished something. I could just keep it in the garage and not even put it on the deck, and feel like I've got it licked--I can do it anytime I want to, right?

On a totally unrelated note, I have been mulling over something in my mind for quite a while now--something I should have done a long time ago, but didn't. I finally decided I was ready to do it, so I went to the courthouse, paperwork in hand--only to be told I didn't have enough paperwork and needed to come back with more. Darnit all! When you finally make up your mind that you are ready to do something, it sucks to hear you don't have all of your paperwork and need more. So, tonight, I'm going to dig and root around and conjure up more paperwork so that I can try again tomorrow perhaps.

With this latest update in my wildly exciting life, I bid you farewell for now.

March 20, 2010

Hello My Dear and Faithful Readers,

Gosh I'm irritated--I'd SWEAR that I updated yesterday and it's nowhere to be found. Oh well--these things happen. So this morning, Saturday morning, you KNOW how I love to sleep late, right? Well, my neighbor was out with a chain saw EARLY EARLY, like 10:00 early (for me on a weekend that's as early as if you woke me at 3:17 a.m.--it's EARLY.) I figured as the day was to be so lovely, it was time to get up. I had lots of work to do. I got the deck cleaned off and my neighbor, to atone for waking me so early, took a bunch of stuff off to the dump for me--an old porch swing, old patio furniture, the old shower doors from the shower in my bathroom I'm in the process of tearing apart as if I know what I'm going to do to fix it.... I had to go returning at Lowe's, buying at other places--like Golf Galaxy. I got some new golf clothes there. If only I could buy the ability to play golf there, too. Wouldn't it be nice if you could buy golf ability, like you can download an app for your phone? "Oh, I could only afford the birdie app--I'm going to upgrade to eagle when I get my next paycheck...." I guess I keep hoping that the right outfit will make up for absolute dearth of ability.

I then schlepped all the monkeys to Robin's for a jewelry party. There was a lovely necklace/bracelet set that I got for work. I needed more severe looking looks for work as I'm not severe enough looking as it is already. Who came up with business casual??? What were they thinking???? This world is too casual as it is already.

Then we had to run and finish painting the ceramic tray and the boys painted some things also--small fortune there, indeed. We had to run by target to get the New Moon DVD--that is going to be our family movie night movie for tonight. I'm so glad that it's finally out on DVD! Now for Avatar to finally come out on DVD--we can't wait!

Well, that's pretty much all that went on in our wildly exciting day. I'm sure tomorrow, what with our plans to go to the grocery store, do laundry and what not, will be equally exciting. With that, I bid you adieu. TTFN Dahlinks.

March 16, 2010

Long time no write, my faithful followers,

So sorry about that. I must beg your forgiveness. I have been busy, busy, busy, busy, busy! Friday, Colie had a violin concert in the morning at a nearby high school. I am proud to say that I am NOT a soccer mom. However, I am also equally proud to say that I AM a violin mom. Yes, that's right--you'll find me front and center, with the camera, snapping pictures, video taping Colie. "Sit up straight, tuck in your shirt, SMILE!" I say, then there's click, click, click, click as I take more pictures. Evidently, the students' parents tend to come to concerts when they are at night and there is no choice--you have to take them, so you might as well stay because by the time you leave, you've got to come pick them up again. Well, I had already been to the practice concert on Tuesday and darnitall, they didn't play Beethoven's 4th movement from the 9th symphony! (Not, mind you, that they can actually play the entire thing anyway, but they can play the standard "Ode to Joy" portion thereof.) As I had no meetings Friday morning, I could make the away concert. His dad and grandfather could also attend. So--of his entire class performing, there was one parent there in the back area--but she might have been the teacher's wife--otherwise, of all the students in his class, Colie was the only one who had someone there to watch him--and of all three people there for his school--yep, they were all Colie's. His dad and I nearly got thrown out of the concert hall for being violin parents. (Not really, but you get the picture--the "emcee" had to keep saying, "NO TALKING in the concert hall... the judges are still computing scores..." I got lots of good pictures and a great video.

Beyond that, my little darlings left me for half of the weekend. Luckily, I was not stranded without a car due to an oil leak/cracked thingamabob on my powersteering pulley. I did do some more painting of my ceramic tray on Friday night. Note to self, I simply MUST find some semblance of a life as painting ceramic at a dead mall on a Friday night when the kids are gone is just SO lame--but hey, what can I say, this is one heck of a vegetable platter! I'm still not done with it and am debating taking them all out tonight to work on it some more--but I'd only be able to get an hour or two of painting in, so it will most likely wait until the weekend.

Beyond that, OMG, I got a crazy wild hat from Gwyther Snoxell! I bought a crazy wild Gwyther Snoxell hat back last year but it had a little tear in it and I couldn't fathom paying so much $ for a hat with a tear in it--despite how it would make even the most blue blooded royal envious. Thus, I returned it. Well, having been enamoured of Gwyther Snoxell's millinery items ever since, and no other hat brand has satisfied my desire for an over the top hat. UNTIL.... I spied a hot pink hat with an impressive wing span--nearly reaching the outside edge of my shoulders, with a plethora of feathers nesting precariously on the front of the hat. It is obnoxious incarnate AND--it's a Gwyther Snoxell!!! I simply HAD to take it home with me. Nobody else could pull off such in-your-face fuscia feathers. Of course, then I had to get the wicked cool shoes to match the new wicked cool fuscia dress to go with the hat--and then I found a new fuscia flower print dress--which needs solid fuscia colored shoes and I will be a walking fuscia crayola crown, topped in feathers, by the time it is all said and done. Now, WHERE to wear such things--I dunno. What difference does that make? I HAVE it--the crowing jewel of obnoxious British hats to make a royal duchess envy--isn't that what it's all about anyway? Hey--if you've been reading this blog for any period of time anyway, you already know I have issues, so this should not come as a shock to you.

In addition to fawning over my Gwyther Snoxell gem, I had to run to Lowe's and get stuff to fix the house, as I stay up late at night planning what to tear apart and redo--my shower being first on the list. I got lots of odds and end things, new lights to hang and what not, and then did some basic stuff like pulling weeds--but that was in the afternoon after my photography class. It was great--a boot camp for manual settings. I have another photography class next month. So, there you have it, that was my wildly exciting weekend--painting, photography, weed pulling, hardware store shopping, obnoxious had adoring..... With that, I bid you adieu.

March 11, 2010

Hello mah leetl lambikins,

Last night, I took the bubbies out to see Wicked. I planned to take them out to dinner first--a true night out on the town for the boys. Karly has been asking for MONTHS when I would take them to Red Lobster. As a normal course of going out to get something to eat, I don't take little boys to Red Lobster. Mind you, I don't think Red Lobster is a fine dining experience in terms of if somebody was going to take me to a nice dinner, but keep in mind that all things are relative--to an 11 year old boy, Red Lobster IS fine dining, compared to Arby's or McDonalds. For me, having dined at outstanding restaurants in Europe, in castles with gourmet chefs, Red Lobster pales in comparison. We did not, however, have the time, nor money, to jet off to Europe for dinner before the performance, so Red Lobster it was. Baby and Colie complained. They wanted Nick's--and Italian/Greek food. Mom and Karly won out, though.

We gorged ourselves on lobster. We had lobster nachos, lobster pasta, lobster tails, lobster lobster lobster lobster lobster....... And then we had more lobster. We then headed out to the show early enough to get parking in the parking garage right next to the theater. We wanted flying monkeys ($35) and snow globes ($55) and t-shirts ($25), but we didn't get any because, well, c'mon--they were flippin' outrageously expensive! We did, however, buy one of the theater books--and still that was $20--but obviously if we got one, I was willing to part with $20 for that. When I saw Phantom of the Opera in NY on Broadway, I got one of the books from that, also.

What can I say but that the performance was wonderful! Well, for the most part. Fiyero couldn't dance for crap and he was pretty weak in the overall scheme of things. Galinda/Glinda was great, as was Elphaba. I read the book and enjoyed the show as much as I did the book. Baby and Karly were not as into it as mom and Colie were, but they still had a good time. Baby didn't get home until 10:50 last night. I was a tired puppy last night, as were the bubbies also. All in all, it was a fun night. If you in any way, shape or form like the Wizard of Oz, you should see Wicked--it was great!

On a different note, the gal for whom I did the wedding invitations brought me a yummy thank you treat today--Godiva chocolate covered pretzels! I told her not to do anything, but she did anyway. I've set them out for the whole office to enjoy. With that, I bid you farewell.

March 10, 2010

Greetings my Dear and Gentle Readers,

OMG I am going to tell you, without a doubt, one of the D-U-M-B-E-S-T things I've heard from one of my ex husbands in a L-O-N-G time. This would rank as one of the many reasons why he and I are divorced. So, a while ago, about 6 months or so maybe, when it was starting to be advertised that Wicked was coming to our town, I asked Baby's dad specifically if Baby could go--as I had to order tickets then to get the group discount without processing fees through our concierge. "I'm not sure this far in advance whose week it will be for Baby. If he's with me, of course, I'll take him, but I can't not order him a ticket now and then he's with me, and I don't want to order a ticket and then you won't let him go.... So--I'd like to purchase a ticket for him and if it's your week, will you please let him go with us?" Well, dad said yes--we do our best not to have Baby miss out on important things, family things--and we are usually very accommodating to what we'd each like to be doing with Baby so he gets the benefit of as much fun stuff as possible.

Now, mind you, when his dad and I were married, we did not see eye-to-eye on many things--darn near everything now that I think of it. We even disagreed on how I should eat my food--I eat what I want, when and how I want, and he'd admonish me, saying, "You can't eat your food in that order! It will offend your taste buds..." So what would I do--keep on eating it the way I want because that's the D-U-M-B-E-S-T thing I've ever heard. If my taste buds managed to survive "being offended" all those years of my life before he was around to be the no-tastebud-offended-on-my-watch police officer, I'm sure they'd continue to be just fine. So--yesterday, I call him to remind him that Wicked starts tomorrow (now today) and that I'd be picking Baby up from the babysitter, feed him dinner, and bring him back to dad's when the show is done. "What time will it be over?" he asked. "I don't know--maybe not until after 10:00, 10:30--I dunno..." "Oh my," he says, "and it's a school night...." Well, um, no duh--it was a school night when I mentioned it week before last also. Nothing changed in the meantime. "Well, that's too late for him to be out on a school night. His bedtime is 8:30 on a school night..." And on the weekend, poor little guy, it's 9:00. "Well, I realize that, but it's a special event, a Broadway show coming here--and we've had the tickets for months now..." "Well, then I'd have to ask that if it runs past 10:00, you just get up and leave the theater early."

I was thinking, "You have GOT to be kidding me!" I told him, in a very polite way, that NO, we would NOT be leaving the show early--how would Baby feel having to leave early, miss the ending, on account of him--and a bedtime at 8:30--well, on the weekends at momma's house, we stay up late. We watch movies, play games--we have family movie night and have movie marathons and goofing off big time. I don't think that boy's been to bed at 9:00 on a weekend night at my house since he was I couldn't tell you how young. Not only that--but I mean to go to a Broadway musical that's in town, on opening night, and have to be the one for whom everybody in the family must leave early? I know dad means well, and I know it's a school night, but it's not like Baby stays up every night late--it's a special event--cut him some slack. It's already bad enough he's here a week, there a week--don't make his separation from us any more obvious than necessary. And for gosh sakes, DON'T leave a Broadway musical early if it's past bedtime. Live a litte!

On a different note, Colie had a violin practice concert last night for the big county concert on Friday. He's gotten quite good playing Beethoven's Ode to Joy from his 9th symphony. I'm so glad he wanted to take violin. On another different note, my boss asked if I had read a book that had been recommended to him by someone he knows. He figured he'd ask if I'd read it to know if he'd like to read it. I said no, but then went and bought the book so that I can read it to tell him if, indeed, he would like to read it. While I was at the bookstore, somehow the black death of the Middle Ages came up and the bookstore's in house plague specialist started to recommend books. Turns out I'd read more of the plague genre books than he had. He did recommend a plague based novel--so I'm eager to get started on that. The book I'm reading now is such a yawn fest. I thought it would be interesting/exciting, "Justinian's Flea." It turns out so far that the first third of the book is dealing with all of the political intrigue and back and forth of power in Constantinople from the demise of Constantine the Great until the reign of Justinian, and there seems to be no plague related information on the near horizon. The book should be titled, "All the Back and Forth of Justinian Becoming Emperor and There Was a Plague Eventually." Mind you, I will keep reading it, as it is against my religion to start a book and not finish it.

With that, my DAGR, I must be off for now. Ta Ta Dahlinks!

March 8, 2010

Happy Birthday to my Little Bubbie, Paul!!!!

Then again, considering that he's taller than me--WAY taller, I should probably stop calling him my "little" bubbie and just call him my younger bubbie. With that shout out taken care of, on to more pressing things, like my train wreck of a weekend. It all started harmlessly enough--plans to go to the opera. With Kay having bailed on me, I got ready and went to dinner on my own--I tried a new restaurant, or rather, it's been around for a year or so but it was the first time I tried it. Evidently, this is a very chi-chi kind of place, with an extensive sushi menu. Surely I've told you all the first thing I learned to say in Japanese was "I HATE/LOATH/DETEST sushi." I also hate--as in HATE--mushrooms. Of course, 98% of the menu was either sushi, or draped in mushrooms. It's just something about eating the gills of a fungus that make my stomach churn. I finally found something that struck my fancy--pork tenderloin, but I am not a bokchoi kind of gal, nor a mushroom, nor sushi kind of gal, so I went with a veggie subsitute. I had to INHALE my food, and dessert (I was running late/in a hurry, but not so much I'd skip dessert) and then had to wait forever for VALET to get my car. There I am, standing there in an evening gown and fur coat, stepping into a gawd awful dirty Jeep.

I had called ahead to the parking garage to reserve my parking spot earlier in the day and then had to call to inform the garage I was running late and to not give away my spot. I am NOT high maintenance, I just know what parking spot is the best and I want it, darnitall! I got there, got my spot (it never hurts when you tip 200%--that's why they save my parking spot, but remember, 200% is all relative--it's for a parking spot, people, so it couldn't have been but so much. It was, however, enough to get my spot.)

The opera was great, but OMG was it LONG. It was long, even for me and I LOVE opera. My attention span started to wane well before it was over--which wasn't until 11:15. On my way home, I thought of how there is NO way the boys could have lasted through that opera and thanked GAWD for Aunt Mel. Every mom needs an Aunt Mel. When I got home, all was quiet, the kids were in bed--ah--life was good. That lasted until I saw a text message from the garage--my car was leaking oil.

The boys left Saturday morning. Karly asked what I was going to do with all the boys gone. I told him I'd sit at home and cry my eyes out, I'd miss them so much. Something tells me he knew better. As soon as they were gone, I was off to the car repair place. It was right across the street from where I had a nail salon appointment at 5:00 that evening, so they'd have all day to work on the car. I was stuck in this location from 10:30 - 4:45, at which time I'd walk across 8 lanes of traffic on a major thoroughfare, to get to the nail salon. It made no sense to try to get a ride home, just to need a ride back to the same area to get my nails done later that afternoon. I could keep myself busy--no problem. I was at a mall--but when you have 1. no car in which to put your purchases throughout the day's shopping fun, and 2. as I wasn't about to schlepp a bunch of stuff I didn't need anyway across 8 lanes of traffic, I decided that I would NOT shop while at the mall for 6 hours. I spent my first hour in the massage chair at Dillards reading my book, only they had it programmed to cut off every few minutes and it was quite distracting to read and have to stop to cut the massage action back on every so often. I got tired of that and then set forth to wander the mall.

I had the great fortune to stumble, after passing only 3 stores, a "Paint and Play" store. You pay for a piece of ceramic and then you paint it. They glaze and fire it for you and you come back, days later, to pick up the item. This was great because it would keep me from wandering the mall and being tempted to spend money that then I'd have a bunch of crap I don't need to schlepp across 8 lanes of traffic. I picked a HUGE platter--at least a foot and a half in diameter, with lots of vegetables on it. The store associate indicated it would take about 4 hours to put just one coat of paint on it, and it would need 2-3 coats of paint. Thus, I opted for a smaller, less expensive platter--costing less than half what the larger platter cost. (Still, though, considering the potential damage for being loose in a mall for 6 hours, either platter would have been a bargain.)

I painted for four hours--and didn't even get the first coat of paint over the entire platter. I could sit still and paint no longer, as my attention span had waned considerably. (Remember how hard it was to focus on the opera the night before?) Thus, with only 2 hours left to kill, I got something to eat, read my book and wandered the mall aimlessly. I then had to make my way to the salon where Tram didn't want to do my nails the way I wanted them done. Oh--yes, the car--they couldn't get to it at all that day, so I was going to have to leave it overnight and they'd start first thing in the morning. Then I had to find a ride home. Luckily, Bambi's step mom and I are good friends and she said they could come to my rescue. The only problem was going to be trying to find a ride back to my car the next day. That was SO not how I planned on spending my time with no kids.

Thus, home by 7:30, I did laundry and cleaned the house. Do I know how to have fun with no kids or what???? I decided to watch a movie. It was sad. It turns out after the couple finally come to realize they love each other, he dies of cholera. I went to bed, figuring I'd worry about a ride to get my car in the morning--but then darnit all, I couldn't sleep late as they'd call to tell me what was wrong with my car. No car, no errands, no shopping, no sleeping late--argh!

I didn't want to prevail upon Bambi's step-mom again. Bambi was working, Kay wasn't answering her phone. Aunt Mel--have I told you yet that every mother needs an Aunt Mel? Yes, well, let me reinforce that with emphasis. She came to get me, refused to take gas money--and then, like a dingaling, I left my house key in her car. Turns out the last time I had my oil changed, NOT at the same place where my car was getting fixed, the dingalings didn't put the filter in tightly. However, upon inspection, a crack/gauge in the power steering pulley was found, so they replaced that also. On the way home, that was when I realized I didn't have my house keys and I had to call Bambi to let me in the house just in time for the boys to come home. Wasn't that such a fun weekend with no kids? Then, I got to do more laundry and work on a school project. When it was time to go to bed, as tired as I was, I couldn't sleep. I kept tossing and turning, thinking of how I couldn't wait for my girl scout cookie order to come in--"I want Thin Mints already, darnitall! Then, I was wondering how to tile a shower, and how to cut curves in tile, and of knocking walls out and replacing them with the anti-mold type sheet rock, then backer board, or do I want to use a vinyl shower surround? Hm.... but I saw at Lowe's when I got a new bathroom light fixture because mine cracked, that they had vanities and basins on sale.... I could re-do the boys' bathroom floor on Saturday, but no, I've got a photography class.... I should replace the toilet, too, and the doorknob should match the faucet, but that's not brushed chrome like the toilet flusher handle..... I should prune my Japanese cherry tree--I could do that now--is my front porch light bright enough? But is IS really cold outside at 2:37 in the morning....." Finally, around 3:30, I fell asleep--eager for the weekend to arrive so I can go to photography class and tear apart a bathroom.

Alas, now, my DAGR, I must bid you farewell. I've got to read more about how to tile a shower pan.

March 5, 2010

Hello My Dear and Faithful Readers,

I am so excited for a wonderful evening of culture at the opera. Mind you, nothing compares to the opera at the opera house in Budapest, but it beats sitting at home on a Friday night--even better that the ticket's free! I was going to drag all three little boys to the opera--I see nothing wrong with that. In fact, I can't recall a single instance where CPS has gotten involved in child-torture-force-your-boys-to-go-with-mom-to-the-opera instances. Still, Aunt Mel loves the boys too much for them to be subjected to that--hey, at least I wasn't considering taking them to Boris Godunov--now THAT would have been torture! My BFF bailed on me. She said she had a rough week at work, so my thoughts are "What better way to unwind than a Mozart opera???" but evidently she doesn't see it that way. She sees scotch and going to bed early as a better way to unwind.

I am hoping that this go round, there will be all the pomp and circumstance one should be able to expect in an opera. The last Mozart opera I saw, in Europe, was a disappointment in that the director espoused minimalist staging and well, that just deflates the experience. If I wanted minimalism, I wouldn't go to the opera. La Boheme was pretty good--not as much pomp and circumstance as I prefer (but then I did get spoiled living in Bohemian Europe, the bastion of pomp and circumstance, indeed. (Though note to self--that was also where I was disapointed with the minimalist opera experience as well, both in Berlin and Prague.)

On a totally unrelated note, kudos to Target. On Sunday, after taking the monkeys to see a movie, we had to go get some stuff at Target. I bit the bullet and spent $35.99 on new toothbrush heads for my electric toothbrush--painfully expensive, yes, but I like how clean my teeth feel with the electric toothbrush, so it's worth it. We got other odds and ends, but the toothpaste and toothbrush heads ended up rung up together, last.


Over the next couple of days, I kept telling the boys to find momma the bag with the toothbrush/toothpaste stuff in it--but they couldn't find it. They tore the car apart, in the event the bag got stuffed under a seat or something--no luck. Finally, there was no other conclusion but that it was left at the store. The boys swore they got all the bags--and I didn't recall any bag left on the counter. A coworker suggested I go to Target with my receipt and explain that the bag containing those items didn't go home with us and maybe they'd let me get more, at no cost.

I went to customer service, explained what happened, and the store representative said they keep such things listed in a book--what gets left at the register gets written down and in the event the customer returns, the customer gets to get the items left. If it's not written down, it doesn't matter what's on the receipt--it MUST be in the book. They write things down by date and on 2/28, we were looking--most stuff was $2-$5 that got left behind, so I knew that couldn't be my stuff, as the toothbrush heads alone were $35,99. Then I saw it--something for $45 and some change, and low and behold--that was my stuff. Last to be rung up and being small items, the bag never made it out of the bagging area for my boys to get it. I was quite happy not to have to buy more replacement toothbrush heads as $35.99 once was painful enough--let alone to end up paying $72 for 6 toothbrush heads had I had to pay for them again.

Well, with that, I bid you farewell, my DaFR.

March 4, 2010

Greetings My Little Lambs,

What a wonderful day it is, indeed! The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, it's not snowing outside..... In fact, on the news this morning, the weatherman said that it looked like the snow was gone for good this winter now, finally. (Though this time last year, exactly on this day, I was home with the boys because of a monster snow storm.) I managed to get my floor mats last night--it helps when I go to the Jeep dealer from which I ordered them as opposed to the BMW dealer. Minor little pesky detail.

It is with deep sadness I must announce that I finished my book. It was 1014 pages long and it was one of those books where you wanted to hurry up and get to the end, so that you could know how it all ends, but you don't want it to end because it's so good. Then, I automatically knew which book I was going to start next, as in the minute I put down one book, I was ready to pick up the other, as I don't like to be more than a minute or two without a good book to read. I couldn't find it. I KNOW I bought it--gosh, over a year ago, most likely--and I tore my bedroom apart and looked on 3 bookshelves. I've got two more to search--but it was nowhere to be found! It's supposed to be an outstanding bit of literature and it has vanished. It must be in the same place as the Target bag with my expensive toothbrush replacement heads for $35.99 that I can't find either. Alas, I will have to settle with reading one of the other 3,246 books I have laying around the house right now.

This weekend, it's supposed to be nice, with warmer weather forecast. I hope to get some work done around the house, particularly in the yard. It's been severly neglected over the winter--what with back-to-back monster snow storms.... We recently bought lots of seeds to plant a vegetable garden. In the elevator yesterday morning, I was telling a coworker how we were optimistically planning to plant a garden when it dawned on me, "I can't get my GRASS to grow--and I don't have to DO anything for that, really.... and here I am, planning a garden????" Well, it will give us something towards which to aspire. We are going to plant a plethora of yummy veggies--carrots, sugar snap peas, watermellon, cantaloupe, cucumbers, sweet potatoes, sunflowers.... Or at least, right now, that's the plan. We also planned to plant the 100 tulip bulbs I bought back in the fall that are still sitting in the bag by the stairs..... Well, with these lovely thoughts, I bid you farewell.

March 3, 2010

Hello Once Again My Little Darlings,

Thank you GAWD there was no snow!!! We are sick, sick, S-I-C-K of snow!!!!! Last night, I was utterly lazy and had the good fortune to get an email from Baby's school indicating that it was spirit night at the pizza place. Of course, being the good momma that I am, I support their PTAs, so we HAD to order pizza last night. Now, here's the nice thing about it. The school gets $3 per order--but my price stays the same! Like a dingbat I'd deleted the email with the special code, so I had to call another involved parent and ask her to give me the promo code, which she gladly did. Ah, the benefits of being the main room parent.... then again, considering the amount of work involved in being the main room parent, a pizza promo code seems miniscule in comparison actually.

So yesterday, I did the dumbest thing. On Friday, I had to pick up/drop off my boss at the local BMW/Mini Cooper dealer and bring him to/from work because his car needed service and I am the one in my office who lives just a few minutes away from the dealership. On Saturday, after speaking to a group of German students, I went to the Jeep dealership, just two blocks away from the BMW dealership, to order new floormats for my Jeep. I got a call yesterday that they came in and I went after work to get them.

As I was driving from work, I was telling myself, "Okay, take that exit, cut over, turn right, make the U-turn like I did when I took my boss back to get his car.... So, I did that, got to the BMW dealership, saw at least 14 BMW/Mini Cooper signs everywhere, went to the service area, but then went around the other side, because when I was there on Saturday, it seemed like the main entrance for service was on the other side of the building... except when I went to the other side, it was a wall. I drove back around--looking again at the many BWM/Mini Cooper signs, and parked the car, smack dab in front of the bay door that said "Mini Cooper Service." I got out of the car, and thought to myself, "I'd have SWORN there was a sidewalk here, with a door right there.... huh... hm, well, it must have been on the inside of the bay door and it was sunny the day I ordered my floor mats and now it's cold and rainy, so the doors are closed.... But gosh, I don't remember THAT door being THERE...." at which point, I opened the door, went into the building, and stood there thinking, "I'd have SWORN that there was a hallway going thataway... and that service was on the right side of the building, not the left...."

It was truly not until that point that it dawned on me, despite the signs EVERYWHERE, that I was at the BMW/Mini Cooper dealership and NOT the Jeep dealership and that low and behold, my Jeep had NOT morphed into a BMW since Saturday. I debated heading the two blocks to the left that had I gotten off at the same exit but NOT cut across and what not, I'd have been right at the Jeep dealership. I decided that, considering that I pulled out in front of a woman who had the right-of-way on my way to work, I'd just call it a day and get home as quickly as possible. I've gone this long with a hole in my floormat--was one more day really going to kill me? It might--had I stayed out driving without my brain any longer. With that, MLDs, I am off to tend to utterly important matters at hand.

March 2, 2010

Hello My Dear and Gentle Readers,

Well, yesterday, I did a VERY dangerous thing. I argued with my daughter, just moments before entrusting my hair to her. Bless her heart, she sometimes has an "I'll show you!" streak in her--from where she gets it, I know not. I am pleased to report, however, that despite mom harping on her, she gave me a beautiful perm, for free! She got a 100 on it--so she was happy, despite the fact that I went into her salon/school throwing a hissyfit with her for not having explained their cancellation/reschedule policy to me as I had been running late and then she worried the life out of me and I hadn't eaten..... My hair, I am happy to report, looks mahveluz! True, I wish she'd continued with her college education, but going to beauty college DOES have its benefits.

On a different note, I finished the wedding invitations for my friend's wedding. She sent me the sweetest email--she said they were so beautiful that she was nearly crying--tears of joy, mind you. I was happy to get to do something like that for her.

On another unrelated note, I had a sweet moment with Baby. I was snuggle bugging with him--at nearly 9 years old, he still snuggles and cuddles with momma. I wonder, is that what folks mean when they call somebody a mamma's boy? Most likely, yes. So he was snuggled up next to me, we're warm under lots of blankies, and his eyes are closed and he has a peaceful look on his face. I asked him, "Are you happy?" to which he replied, "Yes." I then asked him why he was happy--and he replied he was happy that he was snuggled up next to me. It was an "ahw..." moment for sure.

A not so "ahw..." moment this weekend was when I fed Buda. The little snit bit me, and drew blood, AGAIN! What is her deal? And I even picked her up right behind her head and she still managed to twist her head and bite me.

Well, that is all for now. We're supposed to get more snow tonight. Enough with the snow already! TTFN

February 24, 2010

Hello My Little Lambs,

It is with regret that I must inform you that you are reading the ramblings of somebody who was just born yesterday AND fell off the back of a turnip truck on the way to market.... or so it seems one of my sons would have you think. For the latest update in the joys of single motherhoodness, gawd bless his little heart, my Colie tried to schnooker me while I was out of the country. Here's what I don't understand. He NEVER succeeds in these schnooker endeavors. The homework assignments he doesn't turn in, until I get the email from his English teacher telling me there's a storm a brewing, or--absent an email from a teacher, um, well the big ol' whoppin' "0" on his homework assignments that I can check ONLINE, 24/7--might, just perhaps, give it away.... I tell him, repeatedly, "I am in CONSTANT contact with your teachers... you will NOT get away with anything...." He's not gotten away with crap for the last, oh, 7 years in school, so you'd think I'd have established a track record of catching him not getting away with crap.

So... what my little darling has done is this--well, when I was out of the country, schedules for their classes for next year were going to be determined. The boys told me this before I left, and I SPECIFICALLY said NOBODY but momma was to sign their schedules. Normally, their sister or Aunt M signs their papers that need signing while I'm gone and the boys are in their care. I told Bambi and Aunt M, "Do NOT sign their schedules...." I returned from Budapest and promptly inquired about their schedules--"Where are your schedules?" "We had to turn them in already," was the reply. "But I didn't sign them," I said. "Well, they said we needed to turn them in anyway--we told them you were gone and wouldn't let anybody else sign them. They made a copy for us to show you..."

Having a copy to show me, and actually showing it to me, are two different things. Thus, from Thursday until last night, Tuesday, off and on, I'd been asking to see their schedules. I knew what to expect--Karly in art and French, Colie in violin and Spanish--those were really the only classes I had a say in, as otherwise, their core curriculum classes were going to be what they were going to be. Karly picked Spanish as his third, alternate choice. I looked at Colie's schedule and he's got art, Spanish and yearbook selected. No intermediate violin/strings class..... hm..... I asked Colie about this. "I don't like my violin teacher..." he said. "But you're going to a new school next year, with a different violin teacher..." I replied. "Well, I just don't like violin," he said. Then he tried the, "It's too late to change it now--we already handed them in...." This was one of those times that mom put her foot down and said, "au contraire my little darling," (only trust me, I didn't really say ONLY that) and I made it clear that there are things parents know better than kids and trust me, when he's older, he'll appreciate that I made him stick with it and he WAS going to take violin next year. I made it clear that it was NOT too late to get it changed and that he was to get the schedule fixed IMMEDIATELY first thing in the morning and bring me proof from school that it had been resolved.

As my day started today, I realized the same thinking that created the problem (leaving the whole schedule thing up to Colie) could not be the same thinking (leaving the whole schedule thing up to Colie) that solves the problem. Thus, much to Colie's chagrin, I decided to accompany him into the school building today, and escorted him to the office, whereby I explained the situation and, with an emphatic stomp of my delicate, high-heeled clad foot, I stomped the ground for emphasis when I said "He WILL(STOMP) take violin next year!... and I am NOT (STOMP) leaving until this schedule gets fixed..."

We had to tarry a bit in the office while waiting for the guidance counselors--they don't open for business until 8:00 a.m., so I suggested to dispatch Colie to get his violin teacher's signature/approval for the class, as it was needed. "But he's not here today..." Colie said. "Colie, YOU HAVE YOUR VIOLIN WITH YOU--HE'S HERE TODAY!" "Well, he's not here every day because he only teaches here part time..." he then said. "Yes, I know that, BUT YOU HAVE YOUR VIOLIN HERE WITH YOU TODAY--HE WILL BE HERE TODAY." Then, in walks Colie's violin teacher, stage left. I explained how Colie forgot to get him to sign his schedule for intermediate strings. As Colie sat there, scowling at me, I informed him he was free to go, I'd handle it from there, "Love you, have a great day, make smart choices," I told him, to which his reply was nothing.

I promptly went to counseling at 7:59:59 and asked if they were ready for their first customer of the day and I saw Colie's counselor walking down the hall. I explained to her the situation, she said she was aware I was out of town and that of course, there was NO problem at all in getting him into strings.....

So here's what I want to know--does the college diploma hanging on my wall mean nothing to my children? Is it just because I'm their mom that by virtue of being their mom, I'm stupid and clueless and won't catch on to any of this--as if I'd let him get all the way to 7th grade, not knowing he'd dropped violin without consulting me? REALLY???? I mean, I know I'm not the smartest person on the face of the earth, but really--how insulting to think that my child really thinks I'm THAT ignorant, despite the fact that I stay in close communication with all of his teachers and guidance counselor. OMG--really!

Now for those of you out there who think that I shouldn't make him take violin if he doesn't want to--well, for starters, you can let your kids do what you/they want to do (except ruin my peaceful dinner or misbehave on an eight hour transatlantic flight), but I'm the boss of my kids now and I'm not going to let them just wilt when something presents itself as more of a challenge than they initially thought it would be. This is not to say that I'm intractable, but rather that aspiring towards mediocrity is not something which I will condone. This is also perhaps the reason why I can take my three boys to work on snowdays and have them play quietly under my desk so that nobody knows they are there, whereas you other parents who would object have holy terror demon hellcat children who can't keep their mouths shut. My kids are so good that, failing a babysitter, I'm planning on taking all three boys to the opera with me next week. Torture for them, true, but hey--they'll survive. I can think of worse things than manners and culture in children.

So, with that all said, or rather, written, I bid you all farewell as I go in search of the turnip truck that inadvertently tossed me therefrom..... NOT

February 22, 2010

Hello My Dear, Darling, Gentle Readers,

My most humble apologies for taking so long to get back to you. I'm still smarting from the realization that I'm back in my bedroom slippers and old sweaters, wiping noses and cleaning up mess out of the kitchen floor. As I did this, I recollected, "Wow, and to think this time last week I was in a ball gown, at the most magnificent soire--and now, here I stand, mopping vomit out of the floor and doing laundry....." Talk about falling a few notches. the time there was splendid--magical, indeed, for the most part, because how is it possible to be in the midst of such culture, so much history, and awesome architecture and it be anything BUT magical? Alas, I will have to write more on that later, as there is much to do and little time in which to do it. Besides, I'm considering switching platforms entirely for my blog and have been looking at an opensource CMS I might migrate to, so just hang tight with me as I figure out what to do and how to do it. You might see a drastic overhaul shortly.

With that, my darlings, I wish you a wonderful day!

February 9, 2010

Hello My Dear, Darling, Gentle Readers,

I am officially going on the record as officially saying, the weather folks don't know crap and I AM departing for the ball tomorrow as scheduled. Ha--more snow my a**!!! It's SO going to be beautiful weather and the severe winter weather advisory is just that--an advisory. It's not written in stone--and HOW MANY times are they wrong??? Well, this is one of those times. I'm getting on that plane tomorrow dammit all and the boys ARE going to school, just like they are supposed to go, at their normal time. The storm blows over the entire region that would have anything to do with my travels.

Speaking of the boys being in school, thank you GAWD the boys are in school!!!!! I started hootin' and giving thanks to Gawd that they were going back to school--ON TIME. Colie asked, "Don't you love us mom?" when he saw how elated I was to have them go back to school--and by default, not be laying under my desk at work. "I do love you--so much so that I want you to get a good education...." (though with continued budget cuts, how good can it continue to be whilst they continue to whittle away at education funding?) Then I asked, "C'mon--aren't you sick of mom by now? Haven't you spent enough time with me lately?" to which Baby, so sweetly repliec, "Not yet...." I tell you, that little bugger is such a sweetie! He ALWAYS knows EXACTLY what to say and how to say it to make my heart melt. He's going to make a great husband one day. This year for Valentines, I asked him if he'd be MY Valentine, to which he replied that he would. I had to make sure, however, that he'd let me be his, as I'm still wounded by his chirping 2 years ago when he said, while leaving a restaurant on Valentine's day, when he said he HAD a Valentine, and like a dingaling, I thought it was me, so I started to gush, "Oh, Baby, that's so sweet.... You can be my valentine, too!" to which he replied, "No momma, not you, a girl in my class...." Shot down by my 6 year old!

Yes, in addition to holding severe winter weather at bay and making back up back up plans for the back up plans, I also had to plan ahead (I have back up plans, so of course I have forward plans, too. Gosh I'm hokie....) to make sure that during my absence, my monkeys got valentines from momma. I've got valentines being delivered at the twins' school with a sweet note and little stuffed animal from mom and Baby gets a cute card delivered to his dad's house. This way, although mom is gone, they still get to know I love them. Gosh darnit all I'm a good mom!

I have yet to start packing--I totally don't understand the folks who pack AGES in advance. I stay up late the night before packing so that then I'm so tired on the flight I actually stand a chance of sleeping on the plane, despite whatever obnoxious offspring of irresponsible parents who don't know how to raise a child properly is kicking the seat behind me. Haven't you ever just wanted to take the parent of such a child aside and have a little talk to them? Now, I know I'm digressing, but this is my blog, so I can do that, but dontcha hate it when you go somewhere, to a restaurant, a performance, a movie--and some idiot parent who doesn't know how to parent brings their obnoxious monster demon hellcat children along and the child is behaving like an obnoxious monster demon hellcat? Look, if MY kids aren't ruining YOUR dinner with eardrum piercing howls and temper fits, then why do you think it's okay for YOUR obnoxious monster demon hellcat child to ruin MY dinner (or movie, performance etc...)? If I wanted to be driven batty by obnoxious monster demon hellcat children, I could have stayed home and NOT paid money to go do something--oh, but wait, MY children are NOT obnoxious monster demon hellcat children. Ah--so it IS possible to raise, lovingly so, well mannered, well behaved children. Mind you, yes, they have their moments, but 99.9999964% of the time, they are well mannered, well behaved children. It's not the child's fault that his/her parent/s is/are lazy and can't/doesn't set boundaries. It is the parent to be faulted in such instances for allowing the child's behavior. Mind you, I'm not one who speaks with little experience in this matter. I have 4 kids of my own, I'm 1 of 8 kids, I worked at a daycare and I taught in a public school, so trust me, I know about kids and discipline. Bambi threw ONE public temper tantrum when she was a toddler--ONE. Nikolas had ONE temper tantrum. Karly and Baby, well, there's nothing that really stands out. What can I say, not that I'm biased, but my kids are angels and I'm a great mom--a fact which we estabished already with the fact that I've already made plans for the boys' valentines.

Well, I've got to get going--there's much to do and little time in which to do it, as I'm flying out tomorrow. I will be too busy playing Cinderella over there, so you will just have to wait with baited breath until my return for your latest installment in my wildly exciting life. TTFN, or as we would say in Magyar, viszlat.

February 8, 2010

I AM SICK OF SNOW!!!!!

OMG I'm sick of this stuff. And really--the kids are out of school AGAIN????? There is a limit to my patience--and five snow days seems to be reaching the outer limits--foh shoh! Please dear GAWD let them go back to school tomorrow. This morning it kinda sucked. Last night, the fios box with my upstairs T.V. wasn't working properly last night and then this morning, I still wasn't getting any signal to the T.V. Well, sorry, but I don't go downstairs and watch T.V., and I don't make a point of getting on the computer early in the morning. NPR announced SCHOOL closings--but nothing for businesses. If the city schools were only on a 2 hour delay (surely their roads are no worse than ours....) then of course, we report to work at the normal time--NOT. There was a 2 hour delay--and there I was, on time, with all the boys in tow. Two more hours than necessary, confined in a 10x12 office (MAX) with the boys underfoot--Legos and toys strewn everywhere. There's more snow forecast for tomorrow. Please no. What type of pagan blood sacrifice do I need to make (other than sacrificing the most unnerving nerve plucker--but truthfully--they are golden angels for me) to make it NOT SNOW anymore?????

All the while, I'm stressing. I typically eat stress for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but now, I'm also snacking on it between meals. If it's not enough to stress about "oh-mah-gawd-what-if-school's-out-and-the-pipes-freeze-and-the-electricity-is-out-and-they-slip-on-the-ice-and....." but now I'm stressing over "... and-it-snows-again-at-the-airport-and-the-ticket-office-is-closed-and-I-have-to-walk-in-the-snow-in-a-ball-gown-do-I-wear-my-fur-coat-or-just-take-my-fur-wrap....." as well as the stress of "if-I-take-the-300mm-zoom-lens-it's-too-heavy-to-hand-hold-then-I-get-camera-shake-but-I-want-detailed-pics-of-the-chandelier-and-ceiling-and-at-the-museum-should-I-use-aperture-or-shutter-priority-for-the-pictures-at-parliament-it's-a-no-flash-low-light-setting-that-requires-a-tripod-but-I-can't-take-a-tripod-what-if-it's-snowing-outside-and-I-don't-want-the-camera-to-get-wet-it-will-be-so-cold-I-hope-the-batteries-last-but-I-can-use-the-tripod-for-the-cherubim-by-the-castle...." As you can gather, I'm stressing over EVERY FRIGGIN LITTLE THING. All of that is on top of worrying about having everything at work tied up neatly for me to be out for a week. Each layer of "stuff" adds to the stress--going away for a week and tending to all that must be done, then going away OUT OF THE COUNTRY, then having to arrange for 3 little ones while you're out of the country for a week, then going away, out of the country, making arrangements for three little ones in the middle of back-to-back snow storms..... AGH!! Of course, the easy solution would be just not to go anywhere--but then what fun would that be? There are surely those who will disagree, but I think it's important for responsible parents to have their own interests, for their children to see mom/dad is fulfilled as a person and that there is life other than slaving away constantly for your kids--and they see/learn that responsible steps are taken to make sure all responsibilities are met.

Part of my thoughts on that are that my evil wicked stepmother would always say how she sacrificed everything for us, her children. She had no life, she did nothing for herself--she gave her everything for us. Well, for starters, no she didn't really in that she pretty much sat on her butt watching talk shows and soap operas all day while we were at school. She wasn't a school volunteer, she didn't DO anything with us, or take us places--she just whined and complained that because of us, she had no life. Well, excuse me--but we didn't ask to be here, and we would have much preferred if she did go away and do something. Then, we wouldn't have to see her for a while and maybe she'd be less b****y when she got back. In any event, I think it's good for kids to learn that you can be a parent, and still have interests/activities other than sitting on your butt watching talk shows and soap operas as life passes you by. (No, there's no latent animosity towards my evil stepmother....)

I've got 4 pages of instructions and back up emergency back up plans for the emergency back up plans of the back up plans. I've got everything for the kids outlined short of their DNA genome sequence. In Budapest, I know what places to go to capture the pictures I want--if only I can actually capture the pictures because, well, Marcus is complicated--and flippin' HEAVY! Once I put the 300 mm zoom lens on him--with the flash and batteries, he is a hefty thing. I bought a monopod for him, but I think with the 300 mm lens and flash, Marcus exceeds the 5 pound load limit. Thus, I'm going to return that monopod today and have to spring for a better/pricier one. Dang Marcus is expensive!

February 6, 2010

Good morning from Nippy Cold Here!

Well, snow is STILL falling, though I will say, thank goodness, maybe, for the rain we had last night. It was supposed to turn back to snow earlier than it did, so we aren't covered under as much snow as we otherwise would be. However, most likely, there are now layers of ice under layers of snow.

Last night, after napping for most of the late afternoon (laying around reading a book is really a tiring thing to do!), I finally finished the book on ancient bio-chemical warfare. OMG they were horribly inhumane and brutal beyond belief. You could only HOPE your foe would prefer honor on the battlefield and to die from a blow from a broad sword as opposed to the heinously tortuous methods they developed to destroy the enemy. After that, I immediately started my next book, "Pillars of the Earth," a fictional piece--I know, I know, I don't do fiction, but it came highly recommended as historic fiction, so I figured I'd give it a try. Thus, I think for all of five minutes last night, I wasn't reading a book.

On the list of things to do today is:
1. stay warm
2. not kill the boys, or have them kill me from being constantly underfoot while snowed in
3. clear off the dining room table
4. improve upon my peacock feather hair piece for the ball
5. read
6. play with the new software on my new computer

We will not venture out today--even with 4WD, it's too nasty to go out anywhere. Besides, we don't really NEED to go anywhere, as mom made that mammoth grocery run on Thursday. We've got lots of firewood, plenty of food, tons of books--so really, we are set.

February 5, 2010 later than the last post

Hello my Dear and Faithful Readers,

One of my coworkers sent this to me, who received it from her daughter. I don't always get too politically--except when it's to bash the latest idiot politician doing stupid, immoral acts, like denying a love child while running for president..... But I thought this was great and that some of you out there might get a good laugh out of it.



Dear Employees:

As the CEO of this organization, I have resigned myself to the fact that Barrack Obama is our President and that our taxes and government fees will increase in a BIG way.

To compensate for these increases, our prices would have to increase by about 10%. But since we cannot increase our prices right now due to the dismal state of the economy, we will have to lay off sixty of our employees instead.

This has really been bothering me since I believe we are family here and I didn't know how to choose who would have to go.

So, this is what I did. I walked through our parking lots and found sixty 'Obama' bumper stickers on our employees' cars and have decided these folks will be the ones to let go. I can't think of a more fair way to approach this problem. They voted for change...... I gave it to them.

I will see the rest of you at the annual company picnic.

THE BOSS

February 5, 2010

Hello my Dear and Faithful Readers,

Well, the boys managed to make it to school for 5 hours this week. I woke up this morning to the news on my alarm clock, indicating that in advance of the severe winter weather forecast, they were proactively closing schools today. WAY back in the day, if it wasn't snowing when it was time to go to school, you went to school darnitall, and IF it started to snow when you were at school, you'd get to go home early. Evidently, that was back in the "I-had-to-walk-five-miles-one-way-uphill-in-the-snow-barefoot-when-I-went-to-school...." days, and now these kids are SPOILED! Yesterday, I commented, in front of my boss, that I was lucky he was so tolerant as to let me bring all three boys to work with me to lay under my desk at the office and play games/read/watch movies while I work. A coworker said, "Well, it's not like you asked him, so did he really have a choice?" My boss agreed--I didn't ask him, but he also agreed he was tolerant because to my point, "You'd probably not be so tolerant if I had holy-terror-demon-hellcat-monster children....."

Thus, this morning, I dutifully called my boss and left a message for him on his blackberry--"Hey, as the boys are out of school AGAIN today, I can either take a vacation day or drag the monkeys in with me. Consider this your notice so that if you DON'T want me bringing them in, you need to let me know--but really, I'll just act like I didn't get the call and bring them with me anyway...." So, we arrived, en masse, to the office, and then it was snowing before 9:00 a.m.

Luckily last night, while the twins were at boyscouts, I made it to the grocery store where Baby and momma had to fight the it's-going-to-snow-so-I-need-milk!!! crowds. Yet again, we had no groceries--which is common for a snow storm. It NEVER snows when we have groceries in the house a couple of days in advance of a threatened snow storm--it passes right over us. Normally, I just go to Target and get enough staples--bottled water, poptarts and ravioli--to get us through the storm, but alas, with Super Bowl Sunday coming immediately on the heels of the snow stopping, and then another snow storm expected on Tuesday, and then flying out and leaving my little lambs at home with family who is keeping them while I'm gone, Target's poptarts and ravioli were not going to cut it. This called for a mammoth grocery run. The cart, once full of necessities, weighed three times more than I do (which probably still wasn't much, considering that I don't weigh that much in the first place, but still, having to hump that cart along, stop, start, navigate crazily crowded aisles....) and then the lines--OMG--eight carts deep, winding down the aisles, were HORRIBLE!!!

To further compound matters, we had no room in the Jeep for the groceries as I went to Lowes beforehand to get some firewood and fire starter logs. They had no salt and alas, no MAMMOTH snow shovel. I remember, like an idiot fool after the massive snow storm in December, going to Lowes, seeing a horde of snow shovels, and thinking to myself, "A little bit late for that, huh..... We're not going to need snow shovels THAT big again for another 8 years...." Needless to say, the last two times I've been to Lowes, they've been sold out of their massively huge snow shovels--and when they get their shipment in today, they don't hold any for anybody. So, I've been on the phone with Lowes, and here's how the conversation goes, "Yes, hi store manager.... I am a customer and I'm giving you an opportunity to give me outstanding customer service....." How can they say "No, I'm not going to give you outstanding customer service...." When you set it up for them like that, they have no choice but to give you outstanding customer service. I explain that I was at Lowes last night, a shipment comes in today, no, it really doesn't at that store, but this other store, the one I'm calling gets the shovels.... I'll pay for them over the phone so that they techincally aren't holding a shovel for me.... They tell me I can purchase what I want online and pick it up instore... I do that--but then as the shovels aren't in stock yet, the website won't let me do that.... I call back... So that's when I gave them the chance to give me OUTSTANDING customer service.... The manager took my name and number, set aside 3 bags of salt for me, and said that when the shovels get there--IF the shovels get there, he'll then let me purchase one because he didn't know for sure IF he was getting them, and if so, what kind he was getting, and he didn't want to ring up a purchase and then have to refund it... Bottom line, though, is that they were very willing to work with me to get me a shovel! I will keep you posted on the shovel status.

Now, on to an unrelated note. I had quite an experience recently. I will be vague about when and with whom, as you know for the most part, I try to spare people the wrath of Tonbijou's public smack down. So I had to give a high school senior a mock college scholarship/admissions interview. The parent of this student wanted him to have some interview practice under his belt before the real thing this weekend. Some other cohorts were also enlisted in this endeavor, so I gave the second interview to interview this student. Doing my due diligence, I researched college interview questions and one of them was, "What historical person do you most admire?" As I was asking other interview questions, the student volunteered that he liked history. Thus, I thought that other question would be a good one to ask. Keep in mind, I LOVE history--so much so that my three boys are named after great, dead emperors. If you were to ask me whom I most admire from history--gosh, the answers I could give!

The student thought a moment--giving it serious contemplation. "I'd have to say.... the person I most admire.... would be... Stalin." At this point, I probably turned three shades of green as I nearly fell out of my chair. "You see, though many people might disagree with some of his tactics, I admire that he was very effective in getting his policies enacted...." Playing the role of the college admissions person, I simply responded, "Well, that's the first time anybody's said Stalin..." After the "interview" was done, we were to take a break and then I was to give him pointers on what was good/bad/what to improve. I got to the Stalin answer and promptly said, "You gotta pick somebody else. If you tell them you admire Stalin's ability to enforce his policies.... considering he had 24 million of his own people murdered, the admissions folks might start to wonder about you. Yes, he was effective in enforcing his policies... but they weren't really policies that were humane/moral policies, so we shouldn't really be admiring them. You could pick Washington or Lincoln and never go wrong with them, so sometime between now and your interview, come up with somebody else..." I told the parent about this answer and he looked at me like, "He said STALIN????" Then he replied, "Well, that's why we're doing practice interviews, so that he says those things now and not during the real thing." So many people don't realize how atrocious Stalin's atrocities were. Being that I LOVE history (have I mentioned to you how much I LOVE history????), of course, I am aware of Stalin's atrocities. So many people think only of Hitler's extermination of 6 million Jews during that time period, which is heinous beyond belief. Having stood in the first fully operational gas chamber at Auschwitz I, seeing the claw marks on the walls from people gassed so long ago, seeing the furnaces where their remains were cremated--I am sickened by such atrocities. Now--consider this--Stalin had 24 MILLION of his own people, predominantly Kulaks, (independent farmers/affluent peasants) murdered. Thus--Stalin killed FOUR TIMES the amount of innocent people that Hitler did. Thus--NOT the person you want to be admiring for his effective policies during your college admissions interview--just a thought.

Well, on that uplifting note, I leave you all to your own devices. May your travels be safe, may you be warm and snug in your home, out of the elements as you go through your day. We're supposed to get off "easy" this weekend with only 8-12 inches of snow. Other parts of the state are supposed to get anywhere from 18-30 inches of snow. That's just crazy!!!!!

February 3, 2010

Greetings my Dear and Gentle Readers,

Yeeeaaaaahhhhh--a week from today I'll be ready to board a plane so that I can go freeze my a** off in Budapest! Ah--it is SO much fun to play dress up and pretend to be Cinderella, if only reality didn't have to intrude once the ball is done at 5 a.m. You so know I'm staying there until 4:59:59 a.m. on the 14th. For the price of these tickets, heck yeah! Though--good news, the dollar has strengthened and hopefully will continue to do so over the next week and the tickets are now about $70 less than they would have been last week. Making arrangements for the kids is bad enough as it is, making sure this one gets to his violin concert on time, they make it to scouts, they have lunch money--but with all this crazy snow, now I have to make back up plans for the plans in the event there is MORE crazy snow and school is closed again while I'm gone. WHY can't they hold the ball in the spring time? Then it's warmer, no snow--and no dragging your gown through mucky muck snow and slush en route to the ball. (Hey... Cinderella didn't have that problem... I should look into a coach and driver for the event, to stop right at the red carpet.) Ah, yes, to walk the red carpet again! And eat McDonald's fried, greasy apple pies! (Hey, diversity is a good thing. Mind you, I won't be eating the greasy fried apple pies ON the red carpet.... Two such special moments need to be savored independently.)

So it has been a week now since I got yelled at by a judge in traffic court. I'm still suffering from situational Turretts, brought on at the sight of a law enforcement vehicle. Luckily I had the stereo turned up loud enough that the boys didn't hear momma in the car. Poor boys--one minute they were listening to French opera and the next, I popped in the new Lady Gaga CD. It's like the apple pies and red carpet--diversity is a good thing. Believe it or not, Karly actually preferred the French opera to the Lady Gaga. Does that say something exceptional about Karl or really awful about Lady Gaga????

They were out of school AGAIN today so I had no choice but to bundle them up and drag them to work with me. They nearly broke the bank getting them lunch at the cafe. Luckily, their lunches were so big that we have leftovers for dinner tonight. They got to have cake because a coworker was nice enough to have a birthday today for us. I got called into a meeting where I sort of got my butt chewed by another director and I had to take the flack for our department because, well, I'm the manager. No worries, though, because MY director wasn't upset by it. Last week a butt chewing from a judge, today, in trouble with our IT department.... again.... I seem to upset them on a regular basis--despite the fact that my computer has been on lockdown for how long now? (From one of the past times I caused an IT department nightmare...) I was glad to get back to the office though because my wireless remote for Marcus came in finally!!!!!! I also left my newest photography book on my desk on Friday so I was kinda bummed I couldn't read it and be trying some of the great ideas.

OMG--so ridiculous--last night, I was reading in one of my new books, "Poison Arrows, Scorpion Bombs and Greek Fire," a book about bio-chemical warfare in antiquity. I was reading about the moral issues involved in using local knowlege of the perils of a geographic area that is considered a bio-hazard. Well, one region had a lot of bees--and the invading army looked for a lot of honey, which they found, and ate, and died. The locals knew better--but were THEY going to warn the invaders--not hardly. The honey was toxic, produced from the nectar of rhododendron flowers. Who (other than the locals) knew rhododendron nectar was toxic???? Well, I went to bed and dreamt of huge bees--ginormously huge, aggressive bees, and they swarmed all on me, were landing on my chest, my back, swarming around me, and then one stung me on my back and I jolted awake from my sleep--and then couldn't fall back to sleep and had to get up and come to work all tired and cranky. Note to self--put the book down before it gets too late. Okay, with that latest update in my ultra exciting life, I bid you farewell.

February 2, 2010

Hi my little darlings,

Well, the boys will be out of school AGAIN tomorrow on account of the snow. Thank goodness I've got an understanding boss. I am, however, going to venture into the office tomorrow, offspring in tow, for a while, as they'll surely be stocked with enough games, books and movies to keep them occupied temporarily. I will not, however, be going to Town Point Club to dine on the most wickedly, decadently delicious, as in so good there is probably a law or two against it on the books somewhere, she-crab soup. Hm..... what makes SHE crab soup so much better than HE crab soup? I wonder.....

So today, we did venture out of the house. I have to give props to Karly--that little monkey shoveled the ENTIRE driveway. It's amazing what I can get my kids to do by dangling the promise of a new DS game in front of them. He did a superb job--shoveled all the way down to the pavement, totally clear. Then late last night, the snow plows finally made it to our back road--and piled two and a half feet of snow up at the entrance of my driveway. So, what does mom do? No worries, we've got 4WD, right? So mom decides to back out over the two and a half feet of snow. Yeah, um, that didn't go so well. We got stuck. We weren't stuck for long--it was only if I insisted on keeping it in reverse we'd be stuck. So, of course, I put it in drive, parked the car in the driveway and sent the boys out with the shovel to clear the plowwed up pile of dirty, mucky snow out of the way.

Then, we ventured out to Target--the mecca of all things great and small, particularly milk just before a snow storm. Now, I will admit, Target has some cute, affordable clothes. They've stepped up a lot of the styles/fabrics/cuts and some things are so adorable! Well, a couple of weeks ago, Baby was fortunate enough to get to go shopping with mom--I think it was weekend before last when the boys were camping. So, little man is shopping with mom, being such a good sport about helping mom debate, "Do I get this dress or that dress... do I get them both...." He suggested I get one now and one later, as I was lamenting the price--one was 39.99 and one was 42.99. I ended up getting neither of the dresses because well, REALLY now--do I NEED them? (No, I'm not really asking you to answer that question--it's purely rhetorical.) I explained to Baby that I had faith that as so many people are overweight, that by the time the dresses go on sale, there will still be a size 2 for me.

I was at a different Target yesterday and low and behold, the dresses were NOT on sale--BUT I did get a great set of speakers for my new computer that WERE on sale, but not really. The sale price sign was still up, but the sale expired the day before. They still honored the price, though, since the sign was up and I got the speakers for $24 dollars less than I would have. Oh really--who are we kidding--I'd never have paid full price for them anyway! So, score 1 for the speakers, 0 on the dress. UNTIL.... I was at a different Target today. (Yes, when left with time on my hands, somehow I seem to migrate to Target--it's the milk. I like milk. Actually, it's because the one I went to today sells caffeine free Diet Coke in the fridges by the checkout lanes, but that's another issue. I can get toys and milk and caffeine free Diet Coke at Target. I can't get all that at a grocery store or convenience store. Really, they aren't that convenient if I've got to go to another store to get the toys and clearance dresses. Ah, but I digress.)

Well, as we're looking for a movie--I was too cheap to take them to a movie--well, but that presupposes there was a movie worth seeing in the first place that we haven't already seen--so I thought I'd buy them a movie. The only problem was that we've got a lot of movies--I mean A LOT. I seem to be suffering from old age memory loss already. "How about this movie?" I ask. "We have that one already," they say. "No we don't," I reply. "Yes we do," they reply. "Okay, how about this one?" I ask. "We already have that one, too," they say. So it goes, movie after movie after movie until then I realize that there are no new movies that are out to buy that we don't have already that I'm willing to pay but so much for. My threshold is about $14.99, unless it's something wicked awesome on Blue Ray. I'm SO going to get Avatar on Blue Ray.

Then it dawns on me to look for THE DRESS. I head over and see one of THE DRESS on the clearance rack. Darnit--it's a size 4--I'll swim in it. I go on the hunt and low and behold, I find it--THE DRESS, size 2, half off! You so know I bought it. I could have said, "Hm... let me wait until it's 75% off...." but no--I didn't want to chance it. So, I immediately siezed upon it and now it is hanging safely in my closet, alongside the other 5 dresses hanging with the tags still on them. I have so many nice dresses for somebody who never goes anywhere or does anything. Hey, I want to be ready when an opportunity finally does present itself. Otherwise, along comes an opportunity and what to do, what to do--there's nothing to wear! It never fails--that pair of purple pumps I passes up two months ago would perfectly match the gorgeous dress I snagged on clearance--but now I have no shoes to match because when I saw them, I thought, "But I have NOTHING that goes with these...." I promise you I'm not the only woman who thinks like this.

On an unrelated note, I opened the bill for my Verizon Fios service today and darnitall--really--WHY is it always so friggin expensive? Turns out, I had 3 months of HBO/Cinemax free and didn't know it, because I called after it expired the first time after 3 months free, but then I had a change to my service, so they tacked on 3 more months free, but I never paid attention to the bill until it went up because I didn't know they gave it to me for 3 months free--otherwise, you SO KNOW I'd have called to cancel it after 2 months and 29 days! (Evidently, I'm bad at looking at my bills. I PAY them, I just don't look at them, other than the amount due and the due date.) So, I called to get it cancelled, get a credit, and then low and behold, in checking what service I AM supposed to have, I get 3 months of Russian programming for free again. Yeah! Yes, I am going to call on May 2nd the day before it expires. They're hoping that I'll forget and then I'm stuck paying $29.99 a month. No chance of it. Years ago, when I had free, introductory AOL service, I went for over a year and a half getting it for free, ALWAYS calling to cancel two days before the free offer expired. Now mind you--I was honest--I said I wasn't willing to pay $24.99/month, and they'd always offer to give me 2-3 more months to try this feature or that feature, did I know about their super saver this.... and so they'd extend it, and I'd write it down on the calendar--"Call to cancel AOL." One day, I wrote about it on my blog, joking that I was calling to cancel and they'd give me a few more free months. Oopsie--they finally DID cancel it and I had to scramble to get another ISP. That sucked!

Well, also while on the phone, I got transferred to Verizon Wireless. I haven't had an account with Verizon Wireless since August, so every month, I get a bill from them, for my credit of $129.03. Does it ever dawn on them to give me a refund? I mean, it only took them forever and a day to figure out that as I was using the number on T-Mobile, I could NOT have the account on Verizon still. Once that got straight, did they refund my money? Could they by any chance credit it to my Verizon Fios? Why NOooooooo..... that would make too much sense. I had to be transferred from Verizon nice Fios lady who gave me three months of free Russian programming to Verizon Wireless, where they had to put in a special request and sometime in 3-5 weeks, I'll get my refund check. Well, no worries--that will come in before Baby's birthday, so I will use it for him to get him something nice for his birthday.

With this wildly exciting update in my wildly exciting life, I bid you adieu. You envy me, I know you do. You wish your life was as exciting as mine!

January 30, 2010

Hi again little snow bunnies!

I'm so excited--two weeks from now at this exact time, Cinderella shall be at the ball, where I will be dining on:
Focaccia with rocket pesto
Bacon grissini
Curry scones stuffed with duck

Then we will move on to the next course:
Cold watercress velouté with crème fraîche mousse
Smoked swordfish mousse with marinated lime and zucchini coulis
Celery with St. Agur cheese cream
Focaccia with rocket pesto and parmesan shavings

Followed by:
Roast of saddle of venison in maple syrup caramelised pumpkin seed crust, pumpkin seed relish
Duo of carpaccios: thai marinated red tuna and turmeric marinated cauliflower
Supreme of pullet stuffed with baby spinach leaves, half-dried cherry tomatoes and ricotta, jellied olive
Gateau of foie gras pressed with Granny Smith apples and smoked eel, cream of green apple and fennel
Garnishes: fennel grilled with fresh ginger, jacket roasted sweet potatoes with raspberry vinegar, olive oil roasted beet with chervil

And then:
New style ‘foot of goose’ pastry (chocolate mousse and cherries) or
Soleila pastry (with mango and white chocolate)

Closing the evening's meal with:
Sainte Maure goat cheese - walnut with campari honey
Mature taleggio – honey-comb
St. Agur blue cheese – dried pear and apricot
Mature mimolette – red and white grape
36 month old parmesan – quince jelly with balsamic reduction

Now, truth be told, some of it sounds kinda gross--but again, it's the entire experience--fairytale Cinderella at the ball--and really, when the heck else am I going to ever try pumpkin seed relish, or supreme of pullet, stuffed with half dried cherry tomatoes and jellied olives? Now, the jacket roasted sweet potatoes and roasted beet sounds yummy, but I think I'll let Prince Charming have the gateau of foie gras pressed with smoked eel--as that just sounds disgusting.

I was just watching the videos from last year's ball on my super awesome new computer with the kick ass monitor and graphics/video card to DIE FOR and I got so excited, thinking that in just two weeks, I'm back in heaven, dancing at the ball and getting good pictures this year dammit all! (And if not, well, then it requires ANOTHER trip to the ball next year! Hm.... some folks might start to think that the pictures are crappy on purpose, just to get to go back to the ball..... But then again, anybody who knows me knows how much crappy pictures make me seeth with frustration, and I'd rather have great pictures from the ball and go again next year anyway just to have more pictures from the ball next year..... Do I really need an excuse to go to the ball other than I have it in my mind I'm going to the ball darnitall!? Next year's gown will be blinding hot pink and black most likely. Then again, I will change my mind fifty times between now and when it's finished, so who knows how it will look?)

In any event, the countdown begins! TTFN dahlinks!

January 30, 2010

Hello my little snow bunnies,

Gracious what a lot of snow we have here!!!! Last night, when I went to bed, rather late, mind you, there was not a snow flake to be found! I thought, "Well, there they go, weather people, being wrong AGAIN...." I went upstairs, snuggled down under my new electric blankie (oh, but it is SO nice curling up under nice warm blankies!) and then drifted off to la la land. I woke, the first time, around 9:30 this morning and thought, judging from the blinding streak of bright light creeping into my sensory deprivation cave, "Hm.... that looks like snow bright light..." I peeled open the curtains and was blinded by the snow--still falling furiously. I apologized to the weather people I thought were incompetent nincompoops who really weren't, made my way to the bathroom and then hurriedly curled myself back up under mounds and mounds of warm, cozy blankies.

I finally woke again around 12:45--do I have GREAT kids or WHAT? They know, "Do NOT wake momma on the weekends unless there's blood!" And so Colie and Karly were good as gold and quiet as could be--and momma had sleep, glorious sleep! The snow continues to fall as I type this and now I think we've surpassed the massive snow fall we had just before Christmas. Before long, I'll start a fire in the fireplace, we'll watch movies and I'll bake cookies for the boys as a thank you for letting momma sleep.

Last night, Marcus and I were working together. I am trying to get as good as I can at using him before heading off to Budapest. I am vying for pictures inside parliament, good pictures this time, and knowing that with no flash in a low light setting, I've got to have my act together because Marcus is very much like a computer--garbage in, garbage out. If I don't know what to do with Marcus and how to set him, well, he's going to give me crap pictures. As much as I want to blame any crappy pictures on Marcus, because it's ALWAYS the man's fault, reality is, sadly, as both you and I know, it will be me, Marcus' handler, who is ultimately responsible for crap pictures. To the end of not-crap-pictures, last night, I was taking pictures of the old, WAY old globe in my dining room, that is so old, Germany was united before it was ever divided and much of Africa was French colonial. The pictures I took, when I zoomed in on the LCD screen, were so good that I could actually read the names of the towns and cities on the old globe. I could see the frayed edge of the roll of fabric from my ball gown, which is standing on the roll upright next to the globe, and all of the slubs of silk--and I thought, "DAMN Marcus is good!"

Besides thinking of how friggin' awesome Marcus is (don't be too happy for Marcus, though, as he and I both know his time is limited until I move on to bigger and better things with Maximus, the 24 megapixel on which I have my heart set (and even HIS days would surely be numbered, as there is the Mamiya DL28--a 28 megapixel camera--and maybe by the time I'd be good enough for such a crown jewel, it will have dropped a bit from its $15,000 price tag...... Hm.... what would HIS name be... first there was Marcus, then Maximus--what do you name a 28 megapixel camera???? Hercules or Atlas--well, in reality, Hercules was a cunning person who ended up dying from his own treachery when his wife gave him a garment made from poisoned blood of one of his victims. SHE didn't know she was going to kill her husband as a result of her gift..... and then well Atlas got tricked into holding up the world in perpetuity, so it's not like he was the brightest thing. Well, the good thing is that I've got PLENTY of time to think about a good name for the Mamiya DL28 because it will be a while--just a short while, of course, before I own one. (REALLY, though, let's just be honest here--for a non-professional photographer who likes to take pictures of her books and globes, what would be the need for a 28 megapixel camera that I can't really accomplish already with a 24 megapixel, or realistically speaking, with Marcus and his conservative 18 megapixels? Do I really NEED a 28 megapixel picture of my old globe or the books on my shelves? Well, that's a stupid question--do I NEED the 483 pairs of black pumps I have in my closet? OF COURSE I DO!!!!) (Just FYI, I don't REALLY have 483 pairs of black pumps in my closet.)

Well, I must go for now as I've got to study Hungarian--I was drawing a blank on the word for "hotel" yesterday. Oh how I can't wait for McDonald's greasy fried apple pies. You so KNOW I didn't forget how to order THOSE in Hungarian--"Kerem ket almas pitek, legyen szives." With that, I bid you adieu. Stay warm snow bunnies.

January 29, 2010

Hello my faithful flock,

Penelope, my boss' assitant, came to me in the afternoon of my traffic court day from hell and she inquired--"Now Tonbijou, what two lessons did you learn today?" I replied, "First, NEVER listen to my boss again!.... and second, NEVER cite code to a judge...." "That's right!" she said. It went beyond just citing code to a judge--but citing code to a judge in HIS courtroom and offering MY interpretation of it. (Which, BTW, is still correct. The fact that he was a jacka** judge doesn't make my argument less plausible, it simply makes him that much bigger a jacka**.)

The way home, yesterday, was fraught with trepidation. I knew the boys had boyscout court of honor last night that would last a long time and would prevent me from being able to go to the store to get milk--NOT because it's supposed to snow a ton this weekend, but because we were out of milk anyway. (Well, technically, we were NOT out of milk--but it expired on Wednesday, the 27th.) If you've been a faithful reader for a while, you know how thankful I am that Target now sells milk. So, I decided to avoid the crazy it's-going-to-snow-so-I-must-rush-out-and-buy-milk lunatics and just go to Target to get my milk and staple foods--if you consider Chef Boyardee Ravioli and Poptarts staple food. I figured I'd just get stuff that they could eat with/without cooking in the event electricity is an issue. Thus, I was intent on procuring staples for my offspring and instead of going straight home, I went to Target. As soon as I got off of the interstate, low and behold, there was a state trooper in the left hand lane. My situational Turrets Syndrome kicked in with screaming fits of "F****** A**hole!" kicked in--violently. I was screaming and yelling--particularly when I saw how too closely THAT trooper was following the vehicle in front of him. Then, the next thing you know, he changes lanes behind me--and that's when I got really pissed and full of anxiety. With a death grip on the steering wheel, hands at 10 and 2, my Turrets continued--"F****** a**hole--I did NOT invade YOUR space--back off!....." I made sure I only did 44.5 MPH in a 45 and crept along like a little snail--and STILL that SOB followed me. I KNEW foh shoh that Officer Snarky Pants had put out an APB on the woman suicidal enough to cite code, and offer an interpretation, to a judge in his own courtroom. Still, I crept along at 44.5 MPH, all the while, obscenities flying, interspersed with "I'm invisible... you don't see me... there's a cloak of invisibilty around my car....." Eventually, he grew tired of following the grandma who had evidently stolen the cool red Jeep and sped up to pass me.

Once staples were procured for the snow storm, I made my way home to get ready to take the boys to scouts. I figured since I had to stay for this one--being the court of honor and all, I'd take Marcus with me and we could play around before they got started. It would give me time to try to figure out the flash. I had the most tricked out camera there--and Mr. Flash didn't work--AT ALL! Evidently, it helps if the batteries are fully charged--MINOR little detail. Thus, I had the super tricked out camera--and took no pictures. Yes, I looked ultra stupid, being the mom there whose boys were not getting any merit badges, who was not taking any pictures--and then the ones who were getting badges, their parents had crappy cameras. When I got home, I replaced the batteries and then off I went on my happy way, taking pictures of my books again. OMG--talk about gorgeous and fantastic resolution! I finally saw some of the images on my new super tricked out computer with the kick ass graphics card/super wow monitor. You could see every little speck, detail--as in when I looked at a picture of the breakfast Colie made me for my birthday, you could see the individual threads of the placemat and the texture of the little tiny holes and flecks of grain in the whole wheat bread--NO JOKE. It was flippin' awesome! Budapest here we come!!!!

With that, my dear and gentle readers, I bid you farewell for now.

January 28, 2010

Hello my faithful flock,

You know, EVERY person I've told about my day in court has had a sympathetic ear--seems NOBODY likes traffic court, nor traffic court judges, nor police officers who pull you and ticket you for stupid stuff. I have no doubt that if I DID appeal it and take it to a jury trial, they would SO overturn the conviction--really. Yesterday at work, I was in the elevator, alone, traveling from the 18th floor to the ground floor, and I started yelling obscenities--"F****** a**hole jacka** bas**** idiot incompetent f****** A**holes!!!" It was at the final "A**holes!!!" that the door opened, to three people standing there waiting, with slightly curious looks on their faces. I gingerly inquired, "You didn't hear anything a second ago, did you? Because if you did.... well, I had traffic court this morning and..." and then they broke into relaxed congenial, "OH--traffic court... you poor dear..." type comments. I came back and the security guard was asking how my day was going--obviously I was not in my happy place, to which I retorted, "TRAFFIC JUDGES SUCK!" as I stepped back into the elevator--at which time a middle aged man also got on the elevator, clearly able to have heard my emphatic "TRAFFIC JUDGES SUCK!" comment. I sheepishly asked, "You're not by chance a traffic judge, are you?" to which he replied, "If I was, I wouldn't tell you...." I followed up with, "Well, at a minimum, I know you're not the judge I had this morning..." Last night, out buying a new keyboard, I stepped out of the store and yelled, "F****** A**hole!" and low and behold, there were two store employees outside off to the side smoking. I looked at them and said, "Bad day in traffic court...." and they gave me sympathy, laughter, as in, "Tell me about it.... Been there, done that!" EVERYBODY was sympathetic--so I KNOW a jury would be--but really--in the "pick your battles" scheme of things, I'm ready to be focusing on prancing off to Budapest to sashay the night away into the wee hours of the morning.

In less than two weeks, I will be in Budapest. In fact, two weeks from right now, I'll be in Budapest--or wait, will I be in the airport at Munich waiting for my flight to Budapest? Hm.... yes, I'll be in Munich waiting to get there. In any event, I'd rather be focusing on learning how to get Marcus to do what I want, when and how I want, so that the pictures turn out good. I'd rather be focusing on "Wear the opera gloves, don't wear the opera gloves????.... Do I attempt a 4th fan and hope it arrives in time AND is the right color at last????.... Is the wireless remote for Marcus going to arrive soon enough for me to figure out how to use it???" I don't want to be thinking such things with all along in the back of my mind, "Stupid jacka** traffic court judge..... bump it up to higher court but still have to deal with Officer Snarky Pants...." I want to worry about "What is 'up the stairs and to the right' in Hungarian, as opposed to just 'to the right' for the art history tour at the museum???" I am ready to focus on eating greasy McDonalds fried apple pies and looking for old, dusty books at the antiquarian bookstores, and getting Marcus to take good pictures in the dimly lit parliament--NOT with the worry in the back of my mind of jacka** Officer Snarky Pants. You SO know if I'd ever be on I-95 with him anywhere around again, he'd be looking for a bone to pick with me.

I am ready to focus on being Cinderella for a night, only the clock strikes 5 a.m. instead of midnight, for my fairytale fantasy to come to an end. It's such a different world, over in Europe, decked out to be the belle of the ball, literally, with such beauty and opulence everywhere, perched from the same roost as last year to get great pictures. (This assumes I've figured out how to use Marcus by then.) It's almost like split personalities--here, I'm stressed out mom, working M-F, 8-5, there, I'm daring adventuress, garnering the attention, and cameras, of all around, speaking the purple alien talk exotic language of the Magyars, throwing in some Russian and German where appropriate, intently listening to lectures at museums, being such the erudite epicurean of all things neoclassical--and then I'll come home, the next week, and write checks out to the PTA, be mystery reader, clean out the fridge and scrub stains out of the kitchen sink, as if that magical fairytale week was just a figment of my imagination, which will otherwise live on only in the (hopefully good) pictures I take with Marcus. I guess I'm lucky to have the chance to experience it at all--both worlds like that. I imagine there are many people who never "escape" their daily lives to experience the more adventurous, exotic things there are in this world. Then again, I would never want to give up what I've got, as my kids are awesome, and to not have their hugs and smiles and laughter--all the exotic adventure in the world would be so empty if that's all there was--with nobody to come home to with trinkets and tall tales to tell. Also, it takes the mundane to appreciate the exotic, and regarding the exotic adventure--even sunshine burns if you get too much. All things in moderation.

Now, contrary to what I asserted yesterday, that I'd not get the new super expensive backpack for Marcus on account of paying the stupid a** traffic court fine, there is a point at which retail therapy is the only thing that helps, so I went out for therapy last night. Only there was no pair of wicked cool high heeled pumps or friggin' awesome silk blouse or ridiculously expensive department store lipstick. No--it was a backpack for Marcus. It was a book on photography, it was a new keyboard for the new computer. It was the Canon wireless remote for Marcus. There was not one bit of fru-fru retail therapy at all! I got the new hot shoe flash--a bounce and swivel flash for Marcus. I managed to attach it, like a dingleberry thinking that magically, it would work once I did that. Evidently, you've got to do all sorts of magical incantations to the flash, in addition to the magical incantations you must do to Marcus, to get the two of them to work properly together. I actually attempted to read the manual to the flash--which is akin to listening to the boys discuss Pokemon strategy--I know it's in English, but for the life of me, WTF are they saying?????

So now, I've got Marcus--I've got a super awesome tripod (NOT the free tripod that came with the camera--that would never support Marcus once I get him fully accessorized), I've got the professional flash, I've got a wired remote clicker, I've got a wireless remote clicker--and I can't take a decent picture to save my life. It's like golf--I LOOK like I know what the heck I'm doing, because I've got all of the right accessories. I have the ultimate golf wardrobe, golf gadgets and gizmos--I just can't hit the ball to save my life. It's kinda like that with Marcus--I've got all the gear--I just don't know how to use it and time's a tickin' on learning how to use it before that next tour of parliament. Thus, as we get snowed in AGAIN this weekend, yours truly will be spending her time getting up close and personal with Marcus. I tell you, now that I've added that ganja huge flash on top of Marcus, he is HEAVY--and that's just with the little lens. I can take pictures and tone my arms all at the same time just taking pictures with Marcus.

On a sweet note, related to my traffic-court-day-from-hell, Colie knew that mom was not in a good mood. The random obscenities yelled at odd intervals sort of gave that away, in addition to the fact that I flat out said I had a bad--VERY BAD day. As it got late, well after they had eaten, I still had not eaten dinner. When I'm emotional, I am the anti-eater. Some people turn to food for comfort when they are emotional. I turn to books--educational books, to try to occupy my brain with learning something new so that I don't have time to obsess over jacka** judges and the likes of snarky pants idiots. So, he hears that I haven't eaten dinner and then he comes to me and asks, "Would you like me to fix you some chicken?" I thought about it and said that yes, I would like that. He asked if I'd like for him to heat up some of the macaroni. I passed on that, but said I'd take some cucumber salad. A short while later, he's brought me chicken breast, so long heated in the microwave that it's tough as shoe leather (but that's besides the point--the point is his effort), the cucumber salad, and he's made toast wedges, buttered them, and brought them to me for dinner. He was so sweet. He was a bright spot in my otherwise bleak day.

Well, with this latest update, my dear and gentle readers, I bid you farewell for now.

January 27, 2010

Hello to my darling little lambs,

Today I am going to rant and rave and be pissy foul mean. I've earned the right to do this. Refer to my posting yesterday--number 9--bad decisions make for good stories. I don't know if the bad decision was changing lanes behind the state trooper back in November, or was it in listening to my boss tell me to fight the ticket in court--I guess if I didn't change lanes in the first place, I'd have had nothing to fight--but if one earnestly believes that his/her actions were in accordance with the legistlative code, it's a cop out to simply pay the fine out of convenience sake and not wanting to deal with the hassles of traffic court. Thus, I decided to heed my boss' advice and fight the ticket for following too closely.

Since I don't use real names, or geographic locations, and I won't mention the court/jurisdiction, I can rant and rave as much as I want to--and I'm going to do just that. My ticket was on the 9:30 docket this morning. I was fully prepared. I had my notes, written the day of the alleged offense. I had the specific code cited--the ENTIRE code which CLEARLY states "The driver of a motor vehicle shall not follow another motor vehicle, trailer, or semitrailer more closely than is reasonable and prudent, having due regard to the speed of both vehicles and the traffic on, and conditions of, the highway at the time."

I had VDOT's handbook for safe traveling distance, I had a diagram of the interstate, with markings clearly indicating where the alleged offense happened, where my vehicle came to a full and complete stop. I had formulas worked out for distance/speed/pythagorean theorem--you name it--I was able to show that the distance traveled, relative to the time to travel said distance, would support heavy, slow traffic, which was in accordance with the code requiring less braking distance between vehicles as well as heavy congestion making it darn near impossible to keep significant distance between vehicles.... You name it, I was prepared for it.

Time passed--and passed, and passed, and passed. The judge seemed nice--he told jokes, he was considerate. People pled guilty--which he did NOT encourage and always advised them that by doing so, they waived their rights for appeal, to question the witness etc., but when they said they had a reason WHY they did what they did, the judge was sympathetic, he listened, and often times dismissed the case. There was a lady who pled guilty--but when she said she did what she did because her fiance called and the baby was locked in the house and he was locked out of the house, she had no choice but to violate the law. Then, there was the neurologist who had to speed to a patient, but because of HIPPA, couldn't release the patient's name to verify he was rushing to tend to a real patient--and the judge was okay with that and dismissed that, too.

Now, my officer, I'll call him Officer Snarky Pants, was sitting on a bench ahead of me, and I could hear some of his comments. Oh but he WAS a snarky one, indeed. The guy who was doing 135+ in a 45--Officer Snarky Pants waved buh-bye to him. Then, Officer Snarky Pants made a comment, after one person's reason for commiting an offense was, "Well, that's not as good as locking your kid in the house...." The courtroom was still really full, so the judge cleared nearly 3/4 of the courtroom and send them to another judge, but Officer Snarky Pants' folks stayed.

And then it was MY turn--as the clock showed 11:50 for a 9:30 docket. I pled not guilty and then the officer told his side of the story, being able to elaborate how he's measured the distance at which he can/can't see vehicles' bumpers and what not. Then it's my turn, and I take out my notes, and the judge says he doesn't have all day--"just quickly tell me what happened." I tell him--and Officer Snarky Pants is nodding in agreement to everything I say. I make clear mention of giving me my ticket on the passenger side of the vehicle, his urging me to use caution due to the heavy traffic--and he's nodding all along. I then cite the specific code for which I'm ticketed--and that's when it all went downhill.

I was connecting the dots--highway traffic safety zone, heavy traffic, rush hour, code allows consideration for the other vehicles on the highway at the time, etc. etc. etc. and then I show him the diagram I've made. I recall the officer's own testimony--that he allegedly tracked me in his rearview mirror for 1/4 mile--and I explain that the math doesn't work--if the offense happened at 3/4 of a mile before the exit, and then he tracked me for 1/4 mile, then he still had to change lanes, change lanes again, get my attention, and then traverse two lanes of heavy traffic--to stop at the exit--the distance traveled and the length of time it took to travel that long made it clear that traffic was heavy and moving slowly, which would have made my lane change and the distance followed reasonably prudent under the circumstances.

It was at this point that I was the lucky one to get the full spate of the judge's anger and he raised his voice to me, verbally castigated me in front of the entire court room, admonishing me that I am to stay as far away from state troopers' cars always, at all times, and keep as much distance away from them ALWAYS! He looked at my driving record, saw that I had +5 points, but had driving school in August for that speeding ticket for doing 38 in a 25 (which I thought was 35) and then, he barked at me, "I see you've already taken a bite out of that apple--GUILTY! $100 and court costs!" He didn't care about the math, that it was geometrically/physically impossible to traverse the distance at that speed and have been in violation--he didn't care. He'd made up his mind and that was that! It was at that point that, not being totally incapable of ascertaining when it's wrong to push the issue, I thanked the judge and stopped fighting the issue--there was no point and it would only piss him off more.

I slinked over to the corner where I was told to sit, like a third grader in trouble for passing notes in class. I was then led out into the hallway where I could pay my fine. Earlier in the morning, the judge did say if we didn't agree with his decision, we could appeal it. My boss said, "No worries, if you get convicted, you can always appeal it." At that point, I thought, "F*** if I want to come anywhere near this courthouse again anytime soon!" I stood in line, not able to go out tonight to buy the new camera backpack I wanted to get for Marcus because the money I wasn't going to have to pay because my ticket was to be dismissed would be what I'd use to buy the backpack. Evidently, camera backpacks are not just your regular old cheapy backpacks and they can get rather pricey. I could have gotten one suh-weet camera backpack for $166. Then, the guy who was next up in front of the judge after me came out and he said, "Thanks for ruining it for me..." Literally he said that. Turns out, he had a following too closely also, from the same officer. He said, "I had my notes, too, and based on how nice the judge had been all morning, I thought it was a sure thing he'd dismiss it, but after I saw what the judge did to you, I knew he'd never let it go and I just kept quiet..." Then, the next guy who came out to pay his fine who was the second to go before the judge AFTER me, said, "Yeah, after I saw what he did to you, I just pled 'no contest.' Something you said really set him off, though," the guy said. "He was all nice and polite and even joking until he got to you. Even the guy doing 135 in a 45 didn't get him to lose his temper with that person. I tell you, the moment when it changed for you was when you cited the code. That moment was when he got mad at you, almost like, 'How DARE she quote code in MY courtroom.... she's not an attorney... she's not one of us.' WE all sitting there were impressed with what you said and how you said it--but you really riled his feathers." The next few people that came out to wait in line behind me to pay their fines all agreed--they thought I did a great job presenting my defense--and the citing of the code was what angered the judge. Shortly thereafter, some of the people who had been moved to the other courtroom came to wait in line to pay fines also and one of them said, "Gosh, I wish we could have stayed in YOUR courtroom--that judge was nice, but our judge was mean!" One of the other people from my courtroom who saw the judge after me said, "Well, that was until she got in front of the judge and pissed him off and then he was mean to everybody else, too."

So there you have it, Tonbijou pisses off a judge, has to deal with Mr. Officer Snarky Pants, pay $166, ruin it for the poor saps who came before the judge after me and NO camera backpack! Gosh, or I could have just paid the $100 fine by phone back in November and been done with it, but NO--I had to listen to my boss and fight it. So my boss tells me, "You're going to appeal it, aren't you--just on the matter of principle you should appeal it...." Yeah, um, hm...... I don't think so. There comes a point in time where I realize it's our civic duty to stand up for the institutions we hold near and dear--but I fought the good fight today and I got steamrolled. Sure some would say that's even MORE reason to appeal it--but ya know, the amount of stress this has caused me, all over $100, or $166 with court costs, is not worth it to my sanity/peace of mind. It's not like we're dealing with felony offenses with jail time for which I've been wrongly convicted. Yes, I realize that now I have points against me and this may impact my insurance premiums--I'm not ignorant of that, but life does go on and in the major scheme of things, there are more important things in life that truly are deserving of my effort. So--take the advice of this judge--if you see a state trooper on the road, stay as far away from him as is humanly possible. He's evidently NOT your friend and helper--Baby's dad would always wise crack on "Die Bullen--dein Freund und Helfer...." Now I can be equally as jaded and sarcastic and say, "Ah, there goes a Bull, your friend and helper...." I know, I know, not all troopers are like that--just make sure at a minimum to steer clear of Officer Snarky Pants. However, in the unfortunate event you should ever get pulled/ticketed by Officer Snarky Pants, take my advice--JUST PAY THE TICKET!!!! See if I listen to my boss again any time soon. Too bad I don't drink--because this would be the time somebody would say, "Man I need a drink!" I guess I'll still hit the bottle, though, with my good ol' standby--caffeine free Diet Coke. I just have to say it--write it--but it will be phonetically, so even if you put it in a translation program, you'll never get it anyway (just assume it's probably less pleasant than more pleasant) K'chortoo svami, vi gloopi, gadki duraki. Vi vabschet nichevo nye slushaete i ya nadyeyoos, shto y vas cevodniya plocho vesh budoot. There--I got that off my chest now. Kazyolki!

January 26, 2010

Hello to my dear and gentle readers,

Today I have prepared my defense for my ticket that is dismissed tomorrow. I have my diagram of the interstate, I have VDOT publications, and I am thankful that the judge has the good sense to see things my way. Thank you judge in advance for dismissing the ticket!

With that done, and other equally important matters addressed, my brain is not able to think clearly--so I'm going to just cut and paste an email that my friend Tamika sent me. I may have posted it before, but I'm too lazy to check and see if I actually did or not--if I did, just read it again--it's still funny.

Random Thoughts for the Day:
1. I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.
2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.
3. I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
4. There is great need for a sarcasm font.
5. How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
6. Was learning cursive really necessary?
7. Map Quest really needs to start their directions on #5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.
8. I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.
9. Bad decisions make good stories.
10. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.
11. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I don't want to have to restart my collection...again.
12. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.
13. "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this -- ever.
14. I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damn it!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?
15. I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.
16. I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.
17. My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day "Mom, what would happen if you ran over a ninja?" How the hell do I respond to that?
18. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.
19. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites or Budweiser than Kay.

January 25, 2010

Hello to my dear and gentle readers,

Gosh I have the attention span of a gnat sometimes I think. I got sidetracked with my last update and here it is, days later, having been sick as could be. I got sent home from the public speaking volunteer work I was to do bright and early on Saturday morning because, well, um, I couldn't speak. I had NO voice what so ever and that really sucked because I got up at 6:30, despite being sick and hacking up a lung, to be there at 8--only for them to tell me to go home because I couldn't speak. Then, I crashed and died until 1 p.m., only to get up to drag myself out of bed to go to the nail salon. When my nails are too long for Me, you KNOW they are too long. I wanted them all cut off--and as soon as I got there, the owner comes out to me and says she tried to call me--AFTER I had already left the house, to tell me she needed to reschedule. So today, I was using the scanner and when I shut it, my hand was in the way and I tore one of my fingernails--way down deep in the pink fleshy part--hurts like a *$((%%*!!!! Of course, had they been cut short on Saturday, this wouldn't be an issue. I think I'm swearing off gawd awful long nails for a while. I'm sick of them!

On another note, when last I was playing with Marcus, he behaved himself very well and was quite a good boy--giving me exactly what I wanted. Now, the objects of my desire were, as usual, my books. That gawd awful on-camera pop up flash sucks! That's why I'm so happy to have the bounce/swivel new pro flash on its way. Soon I will have gorgeous pictures of my beautiful books. Doesn't everybody take pictures of their books? Whenever I move, I'm never "home" until 1. my college diploma is hung and 2. my books are unpacked. I could be living in a wreck for gawd only knows how long, but those will categorically be the two things I tend to first.

Well, it hurts to type--so I'm not going to type any more.

January 22, 2010

Hello to all of my little lambs,

OMG is it EVER going to warm up around this place???? Could it stop being so cold and rainy and miserable? Well, last night, I wanted to go to bed early, as I wasn't feeling well. My throat is scratchy and I'm getting sick--not so much sick as in ill but rather sick as in I'm sick and tired of Colie driving me up the wall with his cramming clothes under the bed and fibbing about the homework assignments he turned in--NOT.... You get the picture. So now, I have a sore throat

January 21, 2010

Hello My Little Darlings,

Ya know, I'm kinda put out by John Edwards now coming clean with fathering a love child with his mistress. These things happen every day--and have been happening every day since, oh well, hm.... lemme think--since men and women have been having sex--so this goes back a couple of years or more. The thing that ticks me off is that the guy is obviously a lying dawg son of a biscuit eater. It's bad enough that he cheated on his wife--which no doubt involved lying/deception. Then, he lied about having an affair, then he lied about fathering a child and then he had a staffer lie for him and take the blame (which really makes you question the staffer's morals, and his wife's morals--you know, Edwards was going to set them up for life but evidently the staffer thinks he can make more money on his book exposing his "I was the fall guy for Edwards....") and only NOW, with the book coming out next month, does Edwards admit he fathered this little girl. What a scum bag lying dawg piece of crap!

Now, as I said, this happens every day that out-of-wedlock children are fathered in adulterous relationships--NOT that that's a particularly lofty thing, mind you, but it's a human thing. Suck it up buttercup and make the bed you slept in. Be a man--tell the truth, and for Gawd sake, don't friggin' run for president in the midst of all that lying and B.S. I mean really! And here I thought I'd never be able to run for president because I was divorced and had a colorful, crooked past. Obviously that doesn't stop one from running. I didn't say I'd ever WIN the presidency, and I never said I WANTED to run for president--I've just never liked the idea that something was off limits to me because of my lack of good judgement when I was younger. Well, evidently, good judgement is no longer a prerequisite when it comes to running for political office, nor for being in office--not if you look at the likes of Sanford and Blagojovich. True--depending on the egregiousness of the lack of judgement, it can prevent you from maintaining office, but lack of good judgement only appears to be an impediment if you get caught or when your bribe isn't enough to keep your staffers happy.

Could you imagine such a person in office? What kind of scheister deals would be cut to buddies? What total lack of morals--I mean, not that I'm throwing stones (even though I am) but I'm not stupid enough to run for office when you KNOW the media is going to crawl up your butt with a magnifying glass and they'd go, "Hm.... let's see, your kids are this many years old, but you got married and divorced from this person on these dates..." I have no love children I'm denying, I'm not denying any misteresses, or rather, misters, but still--am I the only person in this country who thinks if you are going to put yourself out there, for all to judge, come clean about the skeletons in your closet. I'm not stupid enough to say that there shouldn't be any skeletons in the closet, because whoever says he/she doesn't have any skeletons is a big fat liar--we ALL have skeletons in our closets--but for gosh sakes, at the point you've got more skeletons in your closet than a graveyard, you might want to rethink things and if you still choose to be under such public scrutiny, go for it, but at least be upfront and honest and say, "I've got more skeletons in my closet than a mass grave in Bosnia...." At least then you'll only be known for supremely poor decision making, not a poor decision maker AND a big, fat liar.

Invariably, one lie begets another begets another begets another begets another--and I know this because I've lied before--like the time at the movie theater when I was sneaking in candy to the theater, wrapped up in my coat, after having just given Bambi and her girlfriend a lecture on the evils of lying, and then when Gus the ticket taker asked me to unwrap my coat, after asking if I had anything hidden in my coat and I said no, and then all this candy fell out of my coat and onto the floor at the theater, in front of Bambi and her friend.... or the time I lied about Bambi's age so she could still get the children's discount season ticket rate at Busch Gardens--and Amber kept correcting me--"Momma, I'm not six, I just turned seven... how could you forget how old I am? I just had my birthday last week!" I then replied, with a lie begetting another, all the name of the children's discounted rate, "Honey pie, that was your cousin Tay's birthday, yours is next month on the 18th...." "No it isn't! That's HER birthday--now you forget when my birthday is????" All the while, the guy behind the counter was practically rolling in the floor laughing as I wanted to crawl under the pavement. As we walked away, having paid the children's discounted rate, she then informed me, "Well, GOD doesn't care if you get a discount!" Way to set a good example there mom.... Okay--well, my point is that when we are young and stupid, we do young, stupid things--like lie to save $20 on the kid's rate for the season pass since we just missed the age cut-off by a week--NOT that it makes it okay, mind you--but that's the young, stupid, poor decision making that we do when we are young and stupid. By my now less-young/stupid age, we should know better--and those less young than me should be less stupid than me, ahem, John Edwards. We are supposed to be beyond those stupid poor decisions that beget lies. We should own up to the choices we make and be responsible for the fallout from our decisions. Pay the extra $20, buy the candy at the concession stand or put them in your purse and don't wrap them up in your coat. (I don't recall having seen a "no outside candy allowed" sign in a long time--otherwise, if such a sign is posted, don't bring outside candy in--and then you don't have to lie about it. If you can't afford $5 for a chocolate bar, just wait and eat one after the movie.) The bigger the lie, the bigger the fall. The older we are when we tell such whoppers, well, that's just BAD FORM. Again, I'm not saying I'm perfect and haven't lied--I have, and I've learned from my mistakes. Twenty years ago, I could get away with such things and blame in on my frontal lobe not being fully developed. Now, as with John Edwards, or a few other folks I've known who've told some whopper lies at their no younger "I'm-young-and-stupid-so-that's-my-excuse" age, there's no excuse except lack of inner moral fortitude. Don't even get me started on "use a condom!" people--I mean, there are ways to prevent love children from happening in the first place--it's called keep it in your pants and if you can't do that, USE A CONDOM--but that's a ranting post for another day.

With that bit of ranting and raving, I must get tend to utterly important matters at hand--and that's no lie! TTFN

January 20, 2010

Hello My Dear and Gentle Readers,

Alas, alack, woe is me--my pictures were for the most part absolute CRAP last night. Just because you HAVE an awesome, kick ass camera does not in any way, shape or form mean you will instantly be imbued with the ability to actually take awesome, kick ass pictures. I liken it to have the latest and greatest version of the latest and greatest software--just because you HAVE it installed on your computer doesn't mean you actually know what to do with it. Hey--I bet you don't know what to do with After Effects either--so there! (But the important thing is that I HAVE it installed on my computer, so I can learn any time I want to--really, I can. The fact that I actually HAVE it, or have the awesome kick ass camera already puts me ahead of those of you who don't, so there!)

Bottom line is that the pictures sucked big time. Normally you have things in the center that are in focus, on the edges they are out of focus--not Tonbijou! I figured out how to have the focal point be blurry and the rest nice and sharp. I used a tripod, I used the 2 second delay timer, I set custom white balances--and I came out with horribly blurry, light streaked funky pictures with shades of vomit green in them. The threads on the sofa cushions were as clear and crisp as could be--more in focus than if I had my nose an inch away from them--but do you think the peacock feathers were even 1/100 as crisp as the sofa cushions? I could make out the nap of the fabric covering Belle, but were the roses in focus on the front of the gown?

Initially, I named the camera Beula May--I thought that was a good name for the camera--we could gal pal around town taking pictures, building memories to last a lifetime and what not, but then I had an epiphany--it should be a guy camera. This way, I can always have a man around the house who won't talk back, to whom I can talk sweetly--"Come on Baby..... give me what I want and make it good....." and then when it takes a crap picture, I can yell at it and call it names and it just has to take it. I told someone of my epiphany--because he thought Beula May wasn't a good name for the camera but I said it was MY camera and I could name it what I darn well pleased, but then I informed her of my epiphany and now she probably feels sorry for the camera. Actually, she probably feels that I need to be committed for even having spent any time and brain cell energy on thinking such thoughts in the first place. This is my therapy to rant and rave--waxing poetic is for private time, sweet nothing time, and everybody knows the public side of Tonbijou is not all sweet and lovey dovey--she's the "What idiot puts plastic geese in gawd awful polyester Santa outfits in their yard????" holiday police or the "OMG does that person not own a mirror?" fashion police or the "Just how stupid is that person????" judge and jury. I don't want to use up all my sweetness here on the blog or then there won't be anymore left in reality world for me to use. I can only be but so nice for but so long. (True, I'm not always that nice in real world either--but that's because there are too many idiot drivers, bad dressers, people who ask stupid questions.... oh wait--there are no stupid questions, just a lot of ignorant morons asking questions..... See what I mean--scathing therapy this is! You know you folks think such things, too--I just have a blog to voice our frustration at the ingorant moron idiot drivers of the world who don't look in the mirror before they walk out of the house in the morning. Reality is we can all be bitter pills at times. The problem is that not everybody is willing to admit that about themselves. I can be a real pain in the rear--I simply MUST have my sparkling mineral water, no ice, with lime on the side and heaven forbid I'm offered generic hot chocolate--that simply won't do. I'm constant maintenance, I'm impossibly demanding--and you know what, we all are about certain things at certain times. The ones who make me worry are the ones who insist they are not impossible and demanding--now you know that person is a liar, too--as everybody has their own hot buttons. BEWARE the ones who say they don't.)

So yes, last night, Marcus Aurelius was not cooperating and I warned him that if he didn't shape up and do what I want, when and how I want, that I'd be in the market for his replacement--which I've already named--Maximus Augustus. (Yes, that's even more sad, isn't it--that I threaten my camera with infidelity should he not be able to perform up to my standards.) Never mind I don't know what I'm doing--it's all his fault because it's always the man's fault anyway, right? Now if only there was a "yes dear" setting on Marcus...... Okay--anybody who still reads this blog and takes anything that I say seriously needs more help/therapy than I do. With that, my dear and gentle reader, I bid you adieu as I have matters of uttmost importance to which to attend. TTFN

January 19, 2010

Hello my little lammikins,

UGH! The THIRD fan and it's STILL not the right color pink!!! WTF? It's too hot pink, but it's not hot pink--it's "candy" pink--the hot pink is darker--but this is dark already and I wanted more of a COTTON candy pink color. ARGH!I need my props for my ballgown--this is really discomfiting.

Okay, the dress is done, like 150% FINISHED! Not only that, but the little handbag to match it is FINISHED--150%! I even hand embroidered both sides of it--AND I MADE THE TASSEL!!! Why something as stupid as making a tassel gives me such joy, but it does. I've made plenty of ball gowns, feathered face masks, headpieces and what not, but this was my first tassel.

We had a long weekend, 4 days, thanks to a Friday/Monday holiday. The monkeys had school on Friday, so mom took the time to take a 3 hour one-on-one photography lesson with the super kick butt camera from a professional photographer. I actually took good, crisp, clear pictures. Then last night, I was practicing with my camera, and OMG did they suck! It is kinda like my golf swing--I can hit the ball so long as a golf instructor is standing there barking out orders to me how to grip the club, adjust my stance, don't break the wrists, keep my elbow tucked in, pivot, get the torque in the hips, don't overswing, proper follow-through..... and then, left to my own devices, it all goes to heck in a handbag when I'm out at the practice range by myself. I totally suck. So it was with the camera. I will look like a pro photographer--until I actually take a picture. Never fear, though, I shall overcome! She programmed a specific/custom setting for photographing buildings and we reviewed what lens to use when photographing gargoyles. I was most concerned with low-light photography in parliament and the auto setting on my camera at a low F stop is just not happy. Thus, I must figure out what to do with either aperture or shutter priority NOT using automatic to get it just right as this camera is supposed to be all that and a bag of chips in low light settings--but I guess that figures the user of such a suh-WEET piece of equipment actually knows how to use it. Minor little detail.

Aside from taking time over the long holiday weekend to embroider my fingers to nubs and take a photography lesson, I cleaned the house. Mind you, I don't live in filth and squalor, but as all I've been doing in my spare time has been, well, embroidering. I'm so happy now--my dress/handbag is done AND my kitchen sink sparkles!!! On my fun list of things I did yesterday (though this list is NOT inclusive)

-scoured kitchen sink
-put clean table cloth/place mats on kitchen table and dining room table
-vacuumed my bedroom curtain valances
-vacuumed lamp shades
-vacuumed every dusty corner of the house
-baked cookies (I know that's not part of cleaning the house, but I can throw that in there if I want because it's my blog.)
-did laundry
-changed sheets on beds
-picked pins out of the carpet
-cleaned my bathroom
-cleaned out under my bathroom sink

Yes, yes, I realize that I'm much too exciting for the majority of you out there--I think the real kicker yesterday was the vacuuming the curtain valances. You all wish you could be me--I know you do, but not everybody is THAT lucky. With that, my dear and gentle readers, I must big you farewell as I'm off to my next wildly exciting thing on my list of wildly exciting things to do. TTFN

January 13, 2010

Hello Dahlinks,

Well, it is official--I guess I've started a new tradition, as last night I ordered a third fan for the dress. Hopefully this one will be the right color/size/quality. I also finished embroidering one side of the little handbag I'm making and I've got plenty of time to embroider the other side. I think I started embroidering it on Saturday night or Sunday--maybe???? I don't know--I've spent so much time on this dress that I've lost track of things. In any event, it will take me a week max to embroider the other side of it and one of my assistants at work said that she knew I would be irritated with myself if I cut corners and only embroidered one side of it. As I was finished with the dress so early, she said, I should do it as I've got the time and will kick myself in the butt otherwise if I don't. She's right--gosh, she knows me too well.

Last night, I had to bring myself to do the unthinkable. I've only done it once in my life before--I had a broken nail fixed and, gasp--sculpted so that you can't tell it was broken off and in theory, it is fake. Well, there's no theory about it--it's fake. Mind you, it's not a fake tip or anything--but it's fake nonetheless and it is sort of against my religion to have a fake nail, but it is not the first time in my life I've sinned so until it grows out, so be it. It is amazing the advice you get from the nail salon. It's doing double duty to go there as you can get your nails done and get therapy at the same time, thus saving the co-pay to a shrink. I'm sure the nail tech gals have heard it all! Ha got her wedding pictures back and she thinks her husband is tall--and then they had pictures with me in them, towering over him, and he's taller than her, and they are taller than Tweety--who at best, comes up to my bustline--but yes, I WAS wearing 5 inch platform heels--however, they were all wearing 5 inch platform heels also--well, not her husband--but Tweety and Ha sure were, as was Fi and Hui and Tina..... I'm thinking Vietnam must be the land of really short people.

On an Asian wedding note, I was reading recently that China is facing a shortage of brides--to the tune of 24 MILLION. What genius who came up with the one child policy and them only wanting males, thus aborting female fetuses, couldn't figure out that hey, aborting 24 million female fetuses is going to leave you with no women for the men to marry when they are older? As far as I'm aware, with the exception of a few well known basketball players, Chinese aren't particularly tall either and then there is the issue of hm, well, they're communist and they're in China, but by all means, even the most homely woman with a great personality could end up married if she moved to China. Heck, she could be homely and have a horrible personality and still end up married, as long as she's willing to settle for somebody short and communist and be willing to die sooner than otherwise from the horrible pollution.... Ah, everything in life is a trade-off, isn't it? In the major scheme of things, though, in the long run, this will help level out the population in a way that should have been done by the plague in the early 20th century--but that was thwarted with the advances in medicine. Unfortunately, they are going to hit a wall when the population ages and the birth rate has decreased at an alarming pace, thus not providing enough workers to contribute to the social welfare policies to support the aging population and.... oops, sorry--I get carried away sometimes. I always find the doom and gloom loopholes in things--sort of like on the Extreme Home Makeover shows--I'm the one sitting there wondering how in the world these underemployed people are going to pay the taxes on these properties and well, "gifts" of cars, furniture and what not. Doesn't anybody else worry about that? If they couldn't afford to repair the home in the first place, how can they afford to pay all those taxes? I'm not trying to be Debbie Downer or anything--but having worked at a CPA firm, I wonder about such things. (Sort of like I still want to know how it is that EVERYTHING went back to the way it was, the pumpkin, the dress in rags, the mice, the horse... when the clock struck midnight in Cinderella EXCEPT the glass slippers--WHY???? What is the logic behind that?????)

On an unrelated note, it is supposed to break 40 degrees today!!!! Sad when that is warm, isn't it? No more leaving a faucet to trickle at night. With the bitter cold easing, soon I might be able to cut back to using only 4 comforters at night--though I must admit, I've grown accustomed to their weight entombing me at night. They are so heavy that I grab my pillow and burrow under them, retreating under their warmth much as you would envision a turtle or snail securing itself in its shell.

What with that latest wildly exciting update in my life, I bid you adieu to tend to important matters at hand. Oh--the highlight of my day today will be seeing my coworker who has just returned from Russia--and she's bringing me back a few boxes of forest berry tea!!!! Lucky me, lucky me!

January 12, 2010

Hello mah leetl duckalinks,

I'm in a grumpy mood. I can't always be full of sunshine. Don't you hate it when you think something is going to work out a certain way, a way for which you have long hoped and prayed, and then, invariably, it doesn't? Ducks are ducks, leopards are leopards--they are what they are and they don't change their spots. Well, in any event, I'm almost done with one side of embroidery for the little handbag to match my ballgown. I need to find another fan- I totally hate both fans that came in--one is LILAC, though the picture was clearly pink, and the other one WAS pink, but my gosh, could it be any cheaper/chintzier looking? I like neither of them, but buy ANOTHER fan? Heck, I bought three for the gown last year and used none of them, so why break with tradition? (Though does doing something once really make it a tradition? So far, I've only bought two for this year's dress, so I've not repeated it and thus, I've only done it once, so I guess no, it's not a bona fide tradition yet.)

On a more pleasant note, it's supposed to get warmer this week--up into the 50's! Yeah!!!! I will dispatch my little worker bees out into the yard to do some massive yardwork this week. It so desperately needs it. I am looking forward to spring, but unfortunately, we never got the tulip bulbs planted in the fall and thus I will have to make due with just the hundred bulbs blooming from the year before. With this latest update in my wildly exciting life, I bid you adieu.

January 11, 2010

Hello my Dear and Gentle Readers,

Well, so fast it came and went, my birthday! The sweetest thing was that one of my former students remembered it was my birthday (evidently because it's the day before hers, which I didn't remember.... Bad Frau Tonbijou!) and she sent me a birthday card with a picture of her and her husband on their honeymoon in Cancun. She obviously not only remembered my birthday, but she sent a pink card, with a glitter tiara on it, that said, "Princess Perfect" on the outside of it. Evidently I've loved pink and Disney princesses for a while.

Now, for the kicker of birthday kickers--the boys let me sleep late, until 11:30, on my birthday. I woke up, the boys could hear me stirring, then I laid in bed for a bit--as I started to smell something cooking in the kitchen. After a short while, I got up and opened my bedroom door, shouting downstairs to the boys "Good morning!" They instantly replied back, gleefully in unison, "GOOD MORNING..... AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" Then Baby chimed in with, "Momma, Colie is making you hash browns!" I replied, with trepidation in my voice, "Um.... I didn't think we HAD any hash browns....." Then Colie comes to the bottom of the stairs and chimes, "Well, I peeled a potato and then grated it with the grater in my cooking kit!" Oh yes he did!

Now, when I came downstairs, the kitchen was somewhat of a disaster, but that is beside the point. Waiting for me on the table was my breakfast--scrambled eggs with diced ham, with hash browns, freshly grated by hand, no less, and then the edge of the plate was encircled with toast wedges, each with a tiny bit of butter on top. He laid the toast out, point to point, and it was the sweetest thing he's ever done for me. I took a picture with my new camera of him holding the plate of food--I must say, his presentation was excellent!

After breakfast, unfortunately, reality set in and the work of taking down holiday decorations had to begin. It was at that point, with it having finally warmed up to 25 degrees outside, that I was ever so thankful that I did NOT put up all the lights outside, as otherwise, they'd still be up until March at the rate we're having cold weather and snow. (Yes, we are expecting snow again tonight--not much, just flurries, thank goodness.) We got the things put away, back up in the attic and in the shed. It was then that I gave MYSELF a birthday present. I taught the boys how to do laundry! Later in the evening, Bambi joined us for dinner. She got me a book I had wanted for a while. I told her of two books I wanted. When she gave it to me, she said, "Well, I could only afford one book, and of the two, I figured when you tried to tell me about it, this one I could handle. I didn't want to have to hear you tell me about the other book...." That's my girl! The book is titled "Dr. Seuss Goes to War" and it is a compilation of his, and others', political cartoons during WWII.

Im grossen und ganzen, my birthday was a great day. It was WAY better than the gawd awful sucky crap birthday I had last year--that rivaled my 17th for "Suckiest Birthday Ever." It's hard to pick between the two--nah.... last year's wins for sure as my 17th is but a distant memory which I can stuff in the recess of my mind but my 40th continues to plague me like a bad skin rash and will 'til my dying days. That's what gives it the "Suckiest Birthday Ever" award. Note to all reading this--DON'T SCHEDULE ANY DOCTOR APPOINTMENTS IN THE WEEKS JUST BEFORE YOUR BIRTHDAY! My boss kept telling me, "You just wait 'til you turn 40--everything starts to break then..." I didn't think he was literally serious--like on my 40th birthday that's when it all goes to hell in a handbag. Thanks a lot Boss Man.

With this, I bid you adieu as I must tend to vitally important matters at hand. (Not really, but it sounds good, no?) TTFN

January 8, 2010

Hello my Dear and Gentle Readers,

Only 1 more day 'til my birthday!!! Today Mary stopped by my office with a little birthday bag full of goodies! She knows how much I LOVE Dove milk chocolate and she had two packages of that and strawberry scented candle that smells wonderful! I don't know what we will ultimately end up doing for my birthday--probably Friendly's for dinner with all the wild monkeys so that momma can have chocolate ice cream smothered in caramel with heath bar topping. I like a little bit of ice cream with my caramel usually, sort of how some people like a little bit of french fries with their ketchup. Beyond that, I will be home, embroidering my little handbag to match my ballgown. Wow--whom the heck do you know spends her birthday sitting at home embroidering????? Then again, whom do you know who will be off dancing at the Opera Ball, Prince Charming by my side, when other mere peasants are sitting at home on a cold February night? (Note to self, I MUST stop watching so many Disney princess movies!)

On an unrelated note, last night, when the twins had scouts, Baby forced mom to go to the bookstore. You know I went unwillingly--for sure. There was a local author there signing books and well, what can I say but that I have a soft spot for local authors, though it was a fiction romance paperback--I know, I know--where are my standards--fiction romance paperback?????? That's like the anti-Tonbijou book type. I am a die-hard non-fiction historic hardback dyed in the wool kind of gal--but remember--she's a local author, and I support local artists.

Ultimately we made our way to the history section--big surprise, I know. Baby sat there with his Pokemon hack code books, looking for the elusive secrets to how to get ahead to the next level in whatever game and low and behold, I sat there in the floor gazing upon all the wonderful history books, debating which one would be the lucky one to come home with me. The lucky book actually ended up being a clearance book--paperback even, BUT--it's non-fiction historical, heck, even religious history in nature, so that more than makes up for the paperback deficiency. What, you ask, is the title of this book? "The Atlas of Jewish Civilizations." Had I not gotten that, the other clearance contenders were a book about the history of Christianity and a book on Greece and its battles--both of which were hardback. I think I just might have to give myself a birthday book present (last night's book doesn't count--why, I dunno, but it doesn't.) Now, the kicker is that I'm not even Jewish, but I'm fascinated by the history of Jews in general. The best book I've read to-date about the persecution of Jews, rather, the origins of the persecution, is the book I recently finished, "The Closing of Western Minds; the Rise of Faith and the Fall of Reason." At times it's a bit boring and tedious through which to trudge, but it's highly enlightening nonetheless.

So, whilst Baby and I were having quality momma baby bonding time pouring over Pokemon hack codes and religious history books for which I lust, we talked about how recently, momma overslept--having totally forgotten to set the alarm clock--ON A SCHOOL/WORK DAY! "So Baby--I noticed that all three of you were lined up together in a row, standing against the wall, when I opened the door after you woke me..... kinda like if you all three stood together, I couldn't kill all three of you at the same time for waking me in the absence of blood...." Now, mind you--my boys are good boys--VERY good boys, and they KNOW--"Do NOT wake momma unless there is blood!" Remember the time the snake got loose and they woke me--or rather, they sent Baby to his potential death to wake momma early on a Saturday to tell her the snake got loose. They KNOW that momma does NOT like to be woken absent a dire emergency. If momma is woken before she would naturally wake on the weekends, they can count on a (VERY) grumpy momma. Well, this time, they all banded together--all three standing there supporting each other to wake the sleeping lioness. I pointed out to them that it was a school/work day and if I don't get up--then they need to wake me, even if there's no blood. "Well, we thought it was a 2 hour delay today...." they said. "Is there SNOW on the ground?!?!?!?!?" I barked. "No..." they uttered, in unison. "Then there's no 2 hour delay!" I roared.

So whilst Baby and I were chatting about how they banded together to wake momma, Baby filled me in on things. "Well, we didn't know who should go wake you, so we did rock-paper-scissors and me and Colie won, so Karly had to go wake you--but we felt badly for Karly having to go wake you all by himself, so we went up there with him, and we all took turns, each of us knocking once, so that we all woke you." I about died laughing. I told them that it was good that they banded together as brothers to watch each other's back. The other thing that is good--except for when I'm late on a school/work morning, is that they managed to get themselves up, fed, dressed, teeth brushed--they even had gone outside and cleaned the frost off of my car, all being so quiet that they didn't wake me--which, any other time would have been great. I know there are parents out there the world over who are jealous that I have such good, quiet boys. Oh, to make things even better--so this morning, there actually WAS snow on the ground (and still no 2 hour delay--what's up with that???) and wadda ya know--I got out to my car, and it was all cleaned off and warmed up. Have I trained my boys well or what?

Back to my first point, I have been in communication with the Opera Ball office and it appears that not only will yours truly be perched from the same place as last year--what a great view that was, but I've even managed to get one of the same people who was there last time to join us again--true, she was the flighty American woman--oh wait--hm, I'm a flighty American woman..... hm--I wonder--are they keeping the flighty American women together???? In any event, I communicated with the Opera Ball office and told them of our box mates--is that what you'd call the other people in your box? and I recalled two of their names. Turns out, the person that I was writing then made a point to speak to one of the women I'd mentioned and that woman is going to the ball again this year, so yes, she will join us again as a 'box mate.' I did ask if I could sit in Empress Sissy's box--if not, I'll "settle" for the box next to the Emperor's box (which is where I was last year.) Heck, if it doesn't cost anything more to sit in Empress Sissy's box, then I'm all over that! (Of course, this presupposes that box isn't saved for the really important folks and not the flighty Americans.)

Well, alas, I must be off to tend to utterly important matters at hand. TTFN my darling little peasants.

January 7, 2010

Hello mah leetle duckalinks,

Only 2 more days 'til my birthday!!! I told Bambi last night what books I wanted for my birthday. She knows I'd prefer an illuminated manuscript from the 13th century, and she offered to steal one for me--I told her I'd visit her in prison and she asked if I'd read to her from it. Of course I would--it would be the least I could do if she landed herself in prison to steal an illuminated manuscript for her momma's birthday. Gosh, could you imagine even being able to touch an illuminated manuscript from the 13th century? I can't wait for Budapest--as in the fine arts museum, they have such treasures and now, with my super kick butt camera, I can take flashless pictures in low-light settings that will do these lovely darlings justice. Speaking of Budapest, I got an email from the Operabal office finally confirming the reservation and I asked for the same box as last year--but as they've not been assigned yet, I might try asking for Empress Sissy's box--I dunno if that's like super special for ultra important folks, but hey--really now, who's more important than Queen Tonbijou???? (There is that utter modesty again.)

It is official--I finished the final rose for my dress! I also have made the two little rosebuds to go on the peacock feathers for my hair and then as soon as I finished the last rosebud for the gown, I started to embroider the little handbag to match the dress. WHY do I do this? WHY?????? I still have to sew the final rosebuds onto the gown, so alas, I'm technically still not finished with it, but it's such a hassle to take the thing off of Belle and then put it back on, and it's easiest to sew the roses onto the gown while it's balled up in a pile on my lap as opposed to being on Belle. Alas, that is all that is great and wonderful in my life for this exact moment in time. TTFN

January 6, 2010

Hello to my Dear and Gentle Readers,

Only 3 more days 'til my birthday!!! It's not like anything overly great and phenomenal is going to happen for my birthday--so I don't know WHY I get so excited about it, but I do. I can't wait--Ukrops birthday cake!!! It sucks that I have to buy my own Ukrops birthday cake, but such is life. (I'll let you in on a little secret--sometimes I even buy Ukrops birthday cakes when it's nobody's birthday, they're that good! I'm thinking that my fifth child, Not Me, should have a birthday celebration, right? The random cakes throughout the year are for that child--since I've never seen this child and don't recall giving birth to him/her, his/her birthday could be any day of the year, right?)

So the majorly major news in my world is that I'M ONLY ONE ROSEBUD AWAY FROM FINISHING MY BALLGOWN!!!!!!! I know, I know--see, had I done all that way crazy holiday decorating, I'd still be taking it down and would be WAY FAR away from being done with my gown. (Never mind that I've not bothered taking down what few I put up. Have you been outside lately--it's CRAZY cold! If my neighbors get that sick of my few decorations they can stand outside in sub-zero artic cold and take them down themselves. Hey--at least they don't have to look at crazy hokie plastic geese dressed in gawd awful Santa and Mrs. Claus outfits, complete with wire rimmed fake glasses.)

In any event, yes, indeed, just one tiny little rosebud away from being done. Actually, no, I'm not--because then I have to sew said rosebud onto the gown, so it's not just the act of making it, but of making it and attaching it to the gown which will mark completion. It is beautiful beyond my expectations. I step back and look at it and think to myself, "DAMN I'm good!"

For the life of me, I have no idea how I do it--that I have an idea in my head, and then sometime later, it's reality on a piece of paper, I totally do not understand, but somehow my brain/hands do it. It's like birds flying south in the winter--they just do it. Somehow, my mind and hands just know how to cut fabric without a pattern and make it do what I want it to do. As soon as I'm done with the dress, though, I simply MUST get started embroidering the handbag to match! Maybe tonight I'll finally stop being lazy and will at least make the tassel for the bag.

Speaking of lazy, last night I was gloriously lazy! Colie cooked dinner and Karly cleaned up the mess! Mind you, I did have to teach Colie how to brown the ground beef to go in the sauce--but now he knows how to do it for the next time. Essentially, I gave instructions on how to brown the beef and then I ate the delicious sphagetti and meat sauce dinner--and that was it. They did the rest. YEAH!!!! It's only taken 11 years to get to this point, but THANK YOU GAWD they are able to do such things around the house now!

My other moment of glory last night was being able to adjust the color space on the new camera from sRGB to Adobe RGB--AND to know what that meant in the first place to want to do it at all was a "woo hoo" moment. It got even better--I found the light setting adjustment and was able to change it from its auto setting to flourescent so that when I took a picture of the ballgown last night, the lighting didn't mess things up in terms of clarity. If you don't do that much photography, flourescent lighting can really bugger up your pictures and make them not crisp. If you leave it on the wrong light setting, you can get crap pictures. I still have a lot to learn about this camera, but that was a major plus figuring out that. I took some pictures of the dress and when I did, and enlarged them on the LCD screen, I was able to even see the individual threads of the embroidering on the front of the dress. I took a picture of a map on the wall and when I am sitting on the sofa, looking at the map, WITH my glasses on (corrected I have 20/15 vision), I cannot clearly read the heading/title on this map. I took a picture with the camera and when I zoomed in on the image, I could read it clearly on the little LCD screen. I'm so excited to have my one-on-one private lesson with the professional photgrapher next week!

Other great developments are that I've learned the days of the week in Hungarian and a few other random words that will be of use in Budapest next month. Gosh I can't wait! Okay, now I've got important matters at hand to which to tend. TTFN

January 5, 2010

Hello my little darlings! Only 4 more days 'til my birthday!!! And THIS year, my birthday is NOT going to suck like it did last year--or some heads are going to roll!

So last night, I decided to brave the cold and return the Cinderella DVD I rented to the video store. I was in competition with a 3 year old little girl for it--she reached it just before I did--luckily they had a second copy. The nerve of that little girl trying to take the last Cinderella DVD when that was the only video I wanted! WHAT was she thinking???? Well, in any event, I watched it merrily, singing along to all of the songs, being oh-so-happy to watch the little mice and birds make her dress as I sat there sewing on MY ballgown. (The fact that I'm going to be older than 4 on my next birthday should not cause you pause over the fact that I love to watch the birds and mice sew Cinderella's ballgown as I sew my own ballgown or concern over the fact I'd have gladly taken the last Cinderella DVD had it been the only one and I got there before that 3 year old.) .99 for five nights--what a bargain!

Back to my point--so--I brave the cold and take Colie out with me as a belated treat, unbeknownst to him to get him a belated honor roll treat. Back in my day, if you got a C on your report card, that was NOT honor roll. Now, though, if your GPA is a 3.0, you can still make honor roll. Thus, after his last violin concert, he proudly showed me his name on the 3.0 honor roll list. I'm going to have to find a work around--such as he's got to make MOMMA'S honor roll criteria--all A's and B's. En route to the video rental store, I ponder--"....the pet store closes at 8:00 and we need crickets for Twinkie and Pistachio. Hm..... if I go to the video store first, I don't have to make a left turn to get home as then I just turn right and go to the pet store..... but will we have enough time for him to find a treat for honor roll AND go to the pet store before 8:00?....."

We get to the video store and I get the primo ultimate parking spot right by the front door. I go to grab the DVD and well--it's not there. I search my purse--I KNOW I picked up the DVD--where the %&$*% is it????? It's not in the car. UGH! I back out of my primo parking spot and decide to head to the pet store. On the way, I'm talking to Colie. Here is the actual conversation.
"Oh mah gawd, I can't believe I left the DVD at home!" I say.
"Yes ma'am," Colie answers.
"Your mother is such a dingbat!" I exclaim.
"Yes ma'am," Colie replies.
"You know, you didn't HAVE to agree with me so quickly," I say.
"Excuse me--could you repeat yourself," he says.
"When I said I'm such a dingbat, you didn't have to agree so quickly, you could have said I'm not such a dingbat," I told him.
"Well, really, I didn't hear what you said, so I was just saying 'yes ma'am' so that you'd think I was participating in the conversation," he replied.

I thought to myself, "My GAWD it starts early tuning us out--is it a parent child thing or a male female thing?" I dunno. After the pet store, he got back into the car (I send him in to get the crickets while I wait in the warm car as I really am that lazy) and I said, "I still can't believe I forgot the video! Can you believe I forgot the video????"
"No ma'am," he replies.
"Seriously--can you believe I forgot the video????"
"Um, momma, I didn't need you to repeat yourself because I'm actually participating in this conversation," he said.

WTF--"I'm actually participating in this conversation"????? I'm going to have to remember that one--"I'm sorry--I'm not participating in this conversation...." In any event, we got the crickets (which we left at the house to be sent to their impending deaths when we returned to the house to pick up the DVD--which was left on the table right by the door), returned the video, Colie got a new movie as his treat for his 3.0 honor roll and mom got a good laugh out of it all.

On a different note, my Christmas/birthday present arrived yesterday--my glorious camera! It is TOO beautiful. That puppy is HEAVY once you get the battery/lens on it and then all the various accoutrements that go along with it--the filters, this and that--the lens hood. I did manage to figure out how to turn it off/on--always a plus. I figured out how to set the date and time and I actually managed to take some pictures. Mind you, they weren't very good pictures as I'm still trying to figure out the settings--"B" is a very bad setting. I thought it stood for "blurry" as in intentionally wanting to take an impressionistic type picture--but it's really for leaving the apperture open the duration of the time your finger is depressing the button--or something like that, so for now, all I know is until I know more, stay away from the "B" setting. I haven't figured out how to change the color space to Adobe RGB as opposed to sRGB (the fact that I even know what that means made me a happy camper). Unfortunately, I was forced to stay up late to play with my new toy (thank you darling) and so I'm dragging this morning. First thing I did was order Karly downstairs to get mom a diet coke--I was hitting the bottle early this morning. This camera, I realized, cost more than my first two cars combined cost. (Either they were really cheap cars or this is a really expensive camera, or a little of both.) I'm going to have to take a class just to figure out how to USE the camera's various functions--let alone try to take good pictures with it. It's beautiful--absolutely beautiful! The camera case for it is ginormous--seriously. I'm bummed that one of the filters has a little scratch right in the center of it--that bugs the life out of me--but at least it's not a lens. I'll get the filter replaced--that won't be a problem. I did learn that you should NOT take video with the camera with the red filter on--big difference between taking a picture with the filter and live video. And still somehow I've not quite figured out how to get my images to be 18 megapixel. Oh well--I will figure it all out in time.

On another unrelated, but elated note, I finished another rose bud last night for the gown. Now I'm officially only two more rosebuds away from completion!!!!! Well--from completing the dress--I've still got to finish the feathers for my hair and my hand embroidered little evening bag to go with it. I swear--WHY do I do this to myself????? Okay--I've got to go tend to important matters at hand. May your day be lovely and bright. TTFN.

January 4, 2010

Happy New Year to you all!

Ugh this update is difficult. I broke a nail last night--about half an inch worth of fingernail, and of all things, I did it while FOLDING laundry. That is as lame as cracking ribs while leaning against the seat cushion in my car. What makes this such a hassle is that I've not had time to go get my other nails trimmed back, so I've got dragon lady nails on the rest of the fingers, typing with the tips of my nails as I normally do, and then I've got this gimp finger with the nail broken off to the fleshy part of my finger and it hurts! Not to mention the tips of my fingers don't ever touch anything, so they are very soft. Since 2002, I've only broken a nail 3 times--so trust me, my delicate little fingertips are not used to touching anything. What else irks me is that I just went and had my nails done a few days ago--had them painted to match my ballgown in anticipation of getting pictures taken before the ball and darnitall, now I'll still have to get them done again and the tragedy-I'll have to have the others trimmed WAY down as I hate mismatched fingernail length, as much as I hate chipped ceramic or triple double knit polyester.

So with the new year upon us (and only FIVE more days 'til my birthday!), here are some thoughts to ponder. Today is a good day to start working on being a better person. We can ALL be better people. I hope you like this as much as I do. I thought about adding my two cents worth to these, but those of you reading this will surely take from it what you should. For some of you, these will hopefully hit you upside your head with an epiphany of "Oh... yeah..... hm... maybe I should work on that...."

I BELIEVE

I learned that a birth certificate shows we were born, a death certificate shows we died but pictures shows we lived.

I believe that we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.

I believe that no matter how good a friend is they're going to hurt you every once in a while. And you must forgive them for that.

I believe that true friendship continues to grow even over the longest distance. The same goes for true love.

I believe that you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.

I believe that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.

I believe that just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other. And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.

I believe that you keep going long after you think you can't.

I believe that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.

I believe that either you control your attitude or it controls you.

I believe that heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.

I believe that money is a lousy way of keeping score.

I believe that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're down will be the ones to help you get back up.

I believe that sometimes when I am angry I have the right to be angry but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.

I believe that maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you've had and what you've learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you've celebrated.

I believe that it's taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.

I believe that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.

I believe that it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.

I believe that no matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn't stop for your grief.

I believe that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.

I believe your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don't ever know you.

I believe that even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you'll find the strength to help.

I believe that credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.

I believe that the people you care most in life are taken from you too soon.

I believe that the happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything, they just make the best of everything they have.

I believe that every person is worthy of love and wants to get and give it.

I believe that, THE WORDS WE SAY TODAY CAN NOT BE TAKEN BACK...Be sure they are worthy.

"A life employed in the persuit of useful knowledge, in honorable actions and the pratice of virtue, will reap the happiest fruits and yields an unspeakable comfort to the soul." --Cicero

December 30, 2009

Hello my darling peasants!

Well what interesting news I have for you today! This explains A LOT. It is ONLY with this information that I will gladly accept knowing that I'm NOT adopted, as this is traced through my evil step-mother's side of the family. (Inside joke for those of you not in the know.) Yours truly is descended from the Great Queen Libusa, of the Kresomysl Dynasty of Bohemia--which is Prague--or Praha if you prefer to be more linguistically correct. Yes, descended from a great queen I am--woo hoo!!!!! That explains my love of ballgowns and of Prague. That must be why when I'm in Prague, I feel like I'm home, seriously. The last time I was there, when I was in the car en route to my hotel, from the airport, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I felt home--like I was back where I belone. I know that surely sounds hokie--but it's the truth. What a lovely little tidbit to find out. My sister-in-law is way into genealogy and she has been researching our family tree for a long time. She gifted me today with this knowledge. Normally, as my branch of the tree is so twisted and messed up, I try to avoid delving into such thigns, but as she married into the family and doesn't have to claim it as hers by blood, she can look into such things and not feel scarred for life. As otherwise, we've been living with these scars our whole lives--why dig up more dirt?????

Now mind you, I've not done any of the research myself, but that's okay because 1. I'm too lazy to do that amount of research--I've got roses to make for my ballgown! and 2. I'm too afraid of what I'd find (except I do know that my maternal granny, whom we called Nanny, was like the black sheep of the family. WAY back in the day, she was married THREE times, back when that was like "Oooohhhh--she's been married THREE times....." and I don't recall if it was her second or third husband, but he was a Frenchman who ran off and left her! At least I think those are the things I remember somebody saying about Nanny. All I remember about her firsthand is that she always had those orange marshmallowy peanut candies and Wrigley's gum in her apron pockets to give us when we were little.)

Here's what else I know about Nanny--she was a dressmaker/seamstress, AND she made lace! It's unclear if she made bobbin lace, like I do, or if she just did tatting--I am pretty sure she did tatting, which I don't, but for some strange reason I think she made bobbin lace also. So, I'm crazy addicted to history and kings/queens of days gone by AND I love to sew--thank you Queen Libusa and Nanny! If it weren't for you two, I'd SWEAR (and be happy) that I was adopted!

On another note, OMG I finally got some sleep last night. After work, I HAD to go to the gym to work out the overdoing my workout from Sunday. My abs hate me right now. I think they are actually contemplating mutiny. I started a rose Monday night and was too tired to finish it, and you all should know by now how antsy I get if I don't meet my rose quota for the day. I'm in the home stretch, with only 6 more roses to go until I MIGHT consider myself done with the hand made silk roses. I've still got 3-4 more roses to hand embroider for the little handbag to match the gown--but that can wait. Heck, I can do that on the plane if I must.

So, I was so worn out that I could barely lift the needle, but finish a rose last night I did. By the time I got upstairs, at 10:45, I was so tired from the last two fitful nights of sleep, that I was nearly stumbling into walls--but was that because I was so tired or because I couldn't walk from having spaghetti legs after the gym???? In any event, by the time I finally cut out the lights, I was unconscious until the alarm went off. (That's also because after the gym, on the way home, I also stopped to get crickets for our lizards and some Advil PM to knock my butt out so I could sleep, regardless of how hot my 87 pounds of down comforters got at 2:34 in the morning.)

Well, I've got to go tend to important matters at hand. Before parting, I shall post for you this story of the frogs and Jupiter--upon which I stumbled when Queen Libusa quoted it to the angry older son in a land dispute in the Judgement of Libusa. (Evidently she was a very wise queen as well--and she was the one who handed down decrees to settle matters.) After reading this, you should be glad that we don't still communicate in Old English. TTFN--my dear little peasants! (I mean that in the most kind way possible, those unfortunate of you unable to be descended from a great queen.)

Of the frogges and of Iupyter

No thyng is so good as to lyue Iustly and at lyberte For fredome and lyberte is better than ony gold or syluer
wherof Esope reherceth to vs suche a fable
There were frogges whiche were in dyches and pondes at theyre lyberte
they alle to gyder of one assente & of one wylle maade a request to Iupiter that he wold gyue them a kynge
And Iupyter beganne therof to merueylle
And for theyre kyng he casted to them a grete pyece of wood
whiche maade a grete sowne and noyse in the water
wherof alle the frogges had grete drede and fered moche
And after they approched to theyr kynge for to make obeyssaunce vnto hym
And whanne they perceyued that hit was but a pyece of wood
they torned ageyne to Iupiter prayenge hym swetely that he wold gyue to them another kynge
And Iupiter gaf to them the Heron for to be theyr kynge
And thenne the Heron beganne to entre in to the water
and ete them one after other
And whanne the frogges sawe that theyr kyng destroyed
and ete them thus
they beganne tendyrly to wepe
sayeng in this manere to the god Iupiter
Ryght hyghe and ryght myghty god Iupiter please the to delyuere vs fro the throte of this dragon and fals tyraunt whiche eteth vs the one after another
And he sayd to them
the kynge whiche ye haue demaunded shalle be your mayster


The moral of the story is.....

For whan men haue that
which men oughte to haue
they ought to be ioyeful and glad And he that hath lyberte ought to kepe hit wel
For nothyng is better than lyberte
For lyberte shold not be wel sold for alle the gold and syluer of all the world

December 29, 2009

Hello once more little lambs,

Well, my little positive thinking worked. I got my camera!!!! Mind you, it's NOT 21 megapixel--but that's by MY choice, because I opted for the nicer, newer camera that is 18 megapixel but has digital lenses. I am going to be so super official--and I don't even know what an F stop is or does or means--but kinda like golf--I'm going to look like I know what I'm doing. I can't wait to get it!!!!! It will be here in time for my birthday. I was thinking, "Well, there's always my birthday....." and now wadda ya know, it's here. As for the positive thoughts--well, yesterday, the company had all of these special offers--if you buy one battery, you get another for free, if you get a package with two lenses, you get this included, free shipping.... So when I went to order today--their special ended. Darnit all--I wanted my extra battery and free shipping and other freebies. So, I called and got the same person with whom I spoke yesterday--ah, the benefit of asking names and taking phone extensions and being pleasant, and he said he'd still give me the freebies. Thus, I will soon have my camera body, two digital lenses, tripod, case, lense cleaning kit, 5 hour battery, rapid charger, travel charger--and then imagine the pictures I will take! I'm already a camera ham and I never even had a nice camera. OMG the pictures of Parliament will be TO DIE FOR! So, not only did I get what doesn't come in a box-Victor-I get what DOES come in a box, too! See--positive thinking, indeed! I want it NOW--but I have to wait at least 4 days for it. Patience is SO not my strong point.

December 29, 2009

Good morning my little lammikins,

OMG ergh! I'm in a LOVELY mood this morning. All of my fifty gajillion layers of down comforters are so snug and warm and cozy when I fall asleep--because if I'm not warm and cozy enough, I can't fall asleep--and then darnit all--I woke up in the middle of the night roasting! So then I threw off half of the fifty gajiliion layers and then I froze. It was a love-hate-on-again-off-again relationship with my blankies last night. Thus, at 6:12 this morning, awake before I wanted/needed to be since I don't have little monkeys to deliver to school before heading in to work--I'm debating if I want to get up and make an omlet for breakfast. We all know I'm too lazy to do that, so I lay in bed hoping to catch another minute or two of slumber--NOT.

So on a totally unrelated note, I did manage to have a dream while I slept--and if a dream is a wish your heart makes, I so totally do not get this one--I was part of a volunteer group to go catch a horrible criminal who was out by a beach--and there were all these boyscouts out to get him, and bodyguards, and police officers--some were really pretty, buff, women who had handcuffs and I was like, "Man, why don't I have handcuffs?" (Before you get any crazy notions in your head, NO--it was NOT that kind of dream! Get your mind out of the gutter!!!) and I'm ahead of my group of paramilitary criminal catchers--and then darnit all--the covers got me and that was the end of my dream.

I have an experiment that I am going to try today--sending positive thoughts out into the world--for something specific--and I will let you in on it once it's overwith and done and my positive thoughts worked. So far, they've been working rather well. I will keep you posted. Suffice it to say, patient I am NOT! Waiting until 10:00 a.m. for a sales office to wait is KILLING ME!!!!!

Last night, I started working on the little handbag for my gown. Well, not really--I got the fabric for the outer shell of it cut. I started stitching one of the seven final big roses I need for it. I had to fix an issue with the lining of the dress--it's one of those things that you have to deal with when you don't have a pattern and make it up as you go along. The shoes that came in yesterday are PERFECT! They match better than I could have ever imagined. They are the most delicate little slipper-like dainty shoes. If only they had ribbons on them so that I could tie them like slippers, as evidently I plan on doing so much dancing I'm worried my "slippers" won't stay on. I have not gotten my fans in yet--but those should be here soon. I'd say that tonight I'll make two roses, but most likely, I'll be asleep as soon as I get home, thanks stupid blankies!

December 28, 2009

Hello my little darlings,

Long time no update. I hope that the holidays were good to you. Christmas Eve yours truly was a dingaling. I HATE, let me repeat, HATE, LOATHE, ABHOR, DISDAIN..... being late for Christmas Eve church service--with a PASSION!!! Bambi knows this. Do NOT make me late for Easter service and no NOT make me late for Christmas Eve service or momma will be a bitter pill and not properly embody the spirit of the holiday. For Easter, I MUST hear "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" and for Christmas, it MUST be "O Holy Night." Now, we won't get into the semantics of religious dogma and what my thoughts are on organized religion--that's beside the point. The point is, I LOVE those songs and woe be it unto anybody who makes me miss those songs during the holidays. I will make that person regret it, much like the boys regret when they wake me up on the weekend absent spilled blood.

Well, long about 4 p.m. on Christmas Eve, I felt the urgent need to hurry up and get ready to head out the door. The service started at 5:00. By 4:20, I was really kicking myself in the butt--I'd stayed on Bambi's case that she better not be late--and here she was going to have ended up saving me a seat. I HATE it when we have to stand! So, I'm calculating the time to get there--and lamenting the fact that I didn't have time to change into something more presentable than, well, um, jeans and an old sweater, but hey--NO WAY I WAS GOING TO BE LATE AND NOT GET A SEAT!!!! I wasn't there to impress anybody or win a fashion show--I was there for the music darnit all! (And of course, the holiday benediction.) I got there by 4:40--and there were not more than a handful of cars in the parking lot--one of which was Bambi's. "Um, momma, where are all the cars?" she asked. "I guess a lot of people must be out of town... let's hurry in to get a seat!" "Momma, I really don't think that will be a problem." We went inside, made our way to the balcony--and we were the first people in the balcony. In fact, we were the first people NOT in the bell choir rehearsing at the church. Yes, the service didn't start until 5:30. Hey, at least we got a good seat AND they did O Holy Night. Bambi knew that was in the program when I opened it and got so excited that I couldn't talk.

Later that night I had such another moment--when I opened Kathy's present to me--three boxes of Post Banana Nut Crunch cereal. Bambi nearly died laughing when she saw how excited I was to get boxes of cereal for Christmas. She said, "Gosh--I hope you're that excited when you open my present...." She got me a pink snuggie--yep--a portion of the proceeds go to breast cancer research, AND it had a book light with it. I actually had a few random things under my tree from coworkers that I saved to open and all in all, it was a nice, quiet Christmas.

On a different note, I spent nearly all of my time during the holiday sewing, sewing, sewing, sewing, sewing..... I did manage to order shoes for my ballgown which I just got today which, BTW, are perfect! I ordered them online and was dubious as to if that was a smart thing to do or not--what with not being able to try them on or see the actual color. They are PERFECT! They are teeny, tiny little flats--made out of a most delicate kidskin, and the perfect shade of blue. I'd never have found something so perfect in the stores--trust me, I've looked for over a year. I also ordered two pink feathered fans, both edged with peacock feathers. I'm not sure of the shades of pink which will go better with the pink of the dress--so I got both of them. I need only to bustle the gown, figure out where/how to put the peacock feathers and then make 7 more big roses--then I should be done!

December 24, 2009

Happy Merry Christmas Eve!,

What a lovely day it is today indeed! I know that I will have a fantastic Christmas as I will be surrounded by those nearest and dearest to my heart--my four wonderful children. (Though right now, Colie is in the dog house because he left the door open to my Jeep after he got out yesterday and somehow never bothered to shut it--a neighbor so kindly informed me of the open door this morning, so right now, it's all I can do not to ring his neck. As it's Christmas Eve, I'm trying to be in my happy place. He does make it hard sometimes.)

I have searched in a number of stores for the Disney's Cinderella on DVD. Last night we watched Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on DVD--I bought it just so I could hear Clarice sing to Rudolph,

There's always tomorrow,
For dreams to come true,
Believe in your dreams
Come what may.

There's always tomorrow,
With so much to do,
And so little time in a day.

We all pretend
The rainbow has an end
And you'll be there my friend someday.

There's always tomorrow,
For dreams to come true,
Tomorrow is not far away.

We all pretend,
The rainbow has an end,
And you'll be there my friend someday.

There's always tomorrow,
For dreams to come true,
Tomorrow is not far away.

Well, another favorite song of mine is found in Cinderella. I want the movie so that I can channel my inner Disney princess while sewing my ball gown, but the song that I love is "A dream is a wish your heart makes." The lyrics are:

A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep
Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling thru
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
the dream that you wish will come true

Well, gosh, if that's the case then WHAT in the world was my heart wishing for last night???? I'm still puzzled about that one--it was just CRAZY. In any event, I will hold on to the thought that there's always tomorrow for my dreams to come true and that tomorrow is not far away. My heart will make it's wishes in dreams at night, and at least in my dreams, I will have what my heart desires most. Maybe that's why I like to sleep late--to hold on to what little bit of euphoric bliss I have in my dreams before I wake up and reality sets in.

As Christmas is supposed to be the time for miracles, I will pray that my Christmas miracle, for which I so fervently pray, finally comes to fruition. It is nothing you can open--not some present under a tree. No, the thing for which my heart longs is not a 21 megapixel camera--though don't get me wrong, that would be nice. It's not really a "thing" at all for which I long--as no amount of money in the world could buy what my heart desires most. We shall see if my dreams will indeed eventually come true. I pray every night that they do, and I hold on steadfast to the faith that they will--I KNOW they will one day. I hope that whatever it is for which your heart longs, for which you pray so fervently, comes to fruition for you as well.

December 23, 2009

Good afternoon my Dear and Gentle Readers on this day before the day before Christmas!,

The birds are chirping, the sun is shining--life is good, I am happy--I got to sleep until 11:15 this morning. Do I have my monkeys trained well or what? Even better--they had their rooms cleaned. AH--life is good, indeed!

Things are even better--I FINISHED THE HEM OF MY DRESS!!!!!!! Karly asked, when I was gleefully shouting, "I'm done, I'm done!" if I was done with the dress--ha--not hardly. He didn't really understand my euphoria at being done with just the hem. There are approximately 1,944 stitches, "invisible" as I did a running hem stitch, in the hem of the dress, hidden between the lining and the dress itself. Now the "fun" part of decorating the dress begins. I also decided that I will make a little hand bag to go with it--and of course, I want to hand embroider pink roses on it to match the bodice of the gown. Hm.... yes, the ball's in February. Many late nights up sewing lay ahead.

Beyond that, today is December 23rd. It is the day that I normally lock myself in a closet, away from the entire world, as normally everything goes to hell in a handbag and I REFUSE to communicate with people on this day, after the horrible things that have happened on December 23rd in the past. That said, I will communicate with my children. I will communicate with the person behind a checkout register--what could that person possibly say or do that could make my world come crashing down around me? Not a darn thing. Beyond that, people who might upset my applecart are not allowed in my life AT ALL on December 23rd. What I have learned in life is that I can't count on anybody but me to do the right thing. It would be nice if other people would--but invariably, other people don't always do/say the right thing. I can't control them--I can't control what they do or what they say. I can, however, control me, and my reaction to what they do or say. I am very good at not spewing horrible insults in the heat of anger--if only other people were as good at that, I wouldn't have to avoid the world on December 23rd. I am very good at not saying horrible things that I don't mean, or writing horrible things which I don't mean. However, as other people are not as good at that as I am, I choose to withdraw myself from having contact with people that aren't as able to control the venom they spew. Again, I can't control what others say/do/write, but I can limit my exposure to it. I can't stop them from spewing, but I can prevent myself from being exposed to it. I remember when I was a school teacher and there was a student who plucked my very last nerve. His mother had left him--left the student and the father/husband. One day, the student was particularly atrocious, and I thought to myself, "No wonder your mother left you--I can't stand you either!" I was talking with the assistant principal about the problems I was having with this student and I told the assistant principal what I thought. He replied, "Ms. Tonbijou, you can THINK that all you want--you just can't say that."

Why is it that so few people are able to put a muzzle on it, or step away from the keyboard/phone/pen/paper/smoke signals.... when they are mad? Haven't they ever heard that a statement made in anger will be the best statement they will ever regret? My wish for all of humanity during the holidays would be that they be blessed with the gift of learning when to keep their mouths shut and their fingers idle. How many "I'm sorrys" would not be needed if people just kept their mouths shut and their fingers idle? You can't have to apologize for the insult you never said/sent. A friend of mine with whom I taught was married to her high school sweetheart. They'd been married for a number of years and had a child, a handsome little boy who looked like a clone of his father. She confided in me that her husband told her, "The two biggest mistakes I made in life were marrying you and having him," meaning having the child with her. Help me out here with this one, but NO amount of "I'm sorry" will ever erase those words from her memory.

One thing men don't understand about women is that when a man, particularly someone with whom a woman has been intimate, asserts that she can't do something, the woman will go out of her way to prove him wrong. No statement has more power than "You can't do ______ without me." That is a triple double dog dare to show him not only can she do it without him, she CAN and WILL do that and more without him. If he asserts that she is dependent on him, that she needs him for his money, or she couldn't do ______ without him footing the bill for it, again, she will go out of her way to do ________ without him or his money. It's the hearty "F*** You I'll do it myself!" Why is it that a guy can't say something to the effect, "I know you can do this yourself, but I'd like to help..." She eventually, after their second child--his third "mistake" as he made sure to tell her (here's what I'm wondering--if he considered the first child a mistake, I'm sorry--but if he knows what caused that, he could have prevented the second "mistake" baby--so who's the idiot?"), they eventually got a divorce and low and behold, she showed him that she could be fine without him or his money. Go Girl Power! You know, my evil step-mother tried the "You'll never go to college..." line with me--actually, it was the "You'll never finish high-school, what makes you think you'll go to college?" line she gave me. Thus, I did the hearty "F*** You I'll do it in spite of you!" in that instance and up until a year ago, when my only older brother got a 4 year degree, I was the ONLY one in my family to have a 4 year degree, which I got in three and a half years, back in 1990. DON'T tell Tonbijou what she won't/can't do, as 10 times out of 10 times, she'll do it--sometimes just to prove a point. When all those guys back in bodyguard training told her to pack up and go home, that she'd never qualify on shotguns, she stuck around just to prove she could--and she did, shooting a 43 out of 45. She shot better than the other two women there, and shot better than 2/3 of the guys there. Don't tell her she CAN'T do something. Tonbijou can damn well do anything she chooses to do and doesn't have to depend on anybody but herself to do it. I was so proud of Bambi when she was little and she said she believed in herself. I knew I was doing something right as a mom to instill in my daughter a sense of self confidence. My boys know there is nothing that momma can't do or overcome. I've been through my house being flooded and declared a federal disaster. I've been temporarily homeless as a result of the flood, I've been kicked in the dirt so many times, and I keep getting back up. I will keep getting back up--and I will keep making smarter choices to not get kicked in the dirt in the first place. When my kids are down and feel defeated, I tell them to channel their inner momma--they are half their momma anyway--and use the spunky determination to overcome whatever challenge/obstacle they face and get done what needs doing. A way will always be provided. They have to have faith in that. I couldn't have gotten out of the dirt if it wasn't for the grace of God pulling me out of the dirt, of giving me the ability to find my way out of the dirt. Now--I have an obligation to myself not to keep falling into the same damn pile of dirt--a different dirt pile is one thing, but to keep falling in the same darn pile of dirt--now that's just wrong.

So, part of my strategy for not falling into dirt piles on December 23rd is to avoid all dirt piles. They suck me in like a magnet on December 23rd. I am much better at avoiding dirt piles and mud puddles than in the past, but there's something about the planetary alignment or something that causes me to fall smack dab in the middle of the mud puddles on December 23rd. So, with that, I bid you farewell for today and if you see any big mud puddles, check to make sure that I've not fallen in and can't get out. If I have, you can try to help me out by saying, "Tonbijou, I KNOW you can handle this yourself, but would you like my help?" or you can just stand there from the side and taunt me and tell me I'll never get out and I'll show you just how wrong you are.

December 21, 2009

Good morning Dear and Gentle Readers on this cold Monday before Christmas,

Oh, the marvelous glory of sleeping late! I didn't stir until 10:30 this morning! Night before last, I went up into my attic and pulled out the mac daddy of down comforters. It's a queen sized feather bed--about 6 inches thick. That puppy is HEAVY. Though it's only a queen size, that doesn't matter as it only has to be large enough to cover me. I'd love to get a king-size one, but I was looking at them over the weekend--for a cheapy, thin one, a fraction of the thickness I've got, I could spend $500+, and still not have it as heavy and thick as what I've got now. Thus, I will suffer with using the queen size one, on top of the bedding ensemble comforter, on top of the green down comforter, on top of the newest king sized, but too thin for my tastes comforter, on top of the comforter incased within the heavy brocade duvet cover, on top of the flannel sheet--on top of me. There are like 30 pounds of blankies entombing me as I sleep--and I LOVE it! I've trained my monkeys well not to disturb mother in the morning. One of my assistants at work has a new baby--he's about 6 months old now. She has come to work some mornings so tired, saying, "He just wouldn't sleep last night and I'm SO tired!" God knew what he was doing blessing younger folks with babies, AND, as she points out, making them so cute.

Well, good news to report--the plumbing is going to be inspected today around 2:00!!! This time, somebody who knows what to do/how to do it properly is going to look at/fix it. Yeah! I've just put the chicken in the crockpot for dinner, along with carrots. I'll steam rice later and of course, we'll have fresh, homemade bread to go with it. The twin monkeys will be gone, so it will just be momma and baby monkey--but that's okay. It's much easier to just throw stuff in the crock pot than to actually cook and dirty up a lot of other dishes.

Last night, mom the rescuer had to pick oldest snow puppy up from work, when the slush had turned to ice. I was not thrilled about that. I left the other snow puppies at the house. As much as I didn't like that thought, the thought of getting stuck/into an accident on ice, in the dark of night, with three kids in the car who could've stayed home was a thought I liked even less than the thought of leaving them at home. When I finally made it back, an hour later, they were fine, right where I left them, house still standing, nothing broken, no bloody noses. The worst part of the entire nighttime trip was the parking lot right in front of where she works--it was a sheet of ice.

Now, though, I must get some sewing done. I finally got to start sewing on the hem. I had a LOT of prep work just to get the hem ready to be sewn. Now, that is all done and it's possible I can hem the dress within the next couple of days. I'm hand stitching the entire 9 yards of the hem, doing a running stitch so that all of the stitches are invisble, hidden within the lining/outer skirt fabric of the dress. I got this great light--a really bright light with a huge, let me repeat, HUGE magnifying glass, attached to it, specifically designed for hand sewing. I was channeling my inner Disney princess again last night while watching it. I think I need to go buy Cinderella on DVD--for sure! With that, my little darlings, I leave you to your own devices. TTFN!

December 20, 2009

Ah, the misadventures of Tonbijou continue! Today, I was challenged with a pipe that burst and was spewing water straight into the backyard. Evidenlty, if pipes are exposed outside of the house, they should be properly insultated! Needless to say, yours truly did not do the original pipe/plumbing work, but I sure am the one who's got to fix the mess! It seems that there is another pipe under the house with a problem, by the other faucet, as somehow, when I went to insulate that pipe, I ended up stepping into standing water under a foot of snow--so you KNOW there is a problem that needs fixing. You know, this is why I'm all for doing things right, the right way, the first time you fix something. Too bad not everybody thinks that way. I'm looking for a plumber who can actually do the job right, so not only does Tonbijou not get anything nice under the tree, but she also gets a big plumbing repair bill to pay. Woo hoo!

This day went to hell also--so far, I've not gotten squat for sewing done on the dress. My kid-free weekend obviously didn't go as planned. I had to rescue my oldest snow puppy, after wanting to ring her neck first. She didn't understand that insulating pipes takes precendence over taking her shopping. Oldest snow puppy needed me to take her to work. I took her to work and then she wanted me to sit with her in the parking lot because she was there earlier than she needed to be, despite my admonition that I MUST get home to insulate the pipes. Huffing and puffing she went off to work. I got home, got the pipes insulated, which was when I discovered Master Jerryrigger evidently didn't do that great of a job when he "fixed" the plumbing over the summer, and well--all of my chickeebabies were supposed to be gone tonight--hence the reason I didn't put the chicken in the crock pot--why fix that much just for me. I am fine with Dove milk chocolate and coconut cashew basmati rice and then darnit all--no dinner, three kids--oh, and then when Bambi gets done at work at 10, I get to go pick her up and take her home--because Mom is the one with the 4WD. AGH!!!! What can I say--when it rains, it pours, or leaks. Yes, I'm in a pissy foul mood. Is it too much trouble to ask for people do to things right, and well, the first time? When I do something, cooking, sewing, home repairs--I do it right. I take my time and do it right. I don't do things half assed. I don't do them half-assed with the intention of going back and doing it again/better later. I do it right the first time. It's like I'm always harping on Colie to do his work right the first time because when he does it sloppy/half-assed, I ALWAYS make him go back and do it again--ALWAYS. Now, to have a pipe leaking, by the faucet that was supposed to be superbly fixed--of all the things I need right now--that is NOWHERE on the list.

With that, dear and gentle readers, I've got to go find something to feed my snow puppies.

December 19, 2009 Shortly before 5 p.m.

Awesome Mom, AKA Tonbijou, had to go make another snow puppy rescue and this time, claim Baby. I figured since the crowds were non-existent, it was a perfect time to go shopping. I dragged my formerly stranded snow puppies out shopping with me, which you SO know they loved! We went to Macy's but I couldn't find what I wanted at a price I was willing to pay for it. Baby's dad had indicated a couple of days ago he had a Christmas party to go to tonight with his girlfriend that was out of town. He had originally asked, before the snow hit, if I minded if they stayed out of town, rather than drive back late from the party. He would have driven back had I objected, but I didn't want him to have Baby on the road late at night because even if he was a safe driver, I don't trust the other idiots out on the road who drink and drive. I checked on Baby to find out if he was here or if they were already out of town, and they were here--having not yet tried to hit the road to go to the party. I suggested that rather than take Baby with them and be out on the road for an hour and a half, Baby should come stay with Awesome Mom, as though the roads were not as horrible as they were early this morning, they'd freeze up and be terrible later as it's not gotten any warmer, the snow continued to fall, and the sun never made an appearance.

Thus, I set off to reclaim my littlest snow puppy. The main roads were tolerable but the secondary roads were really bad--dad in his car would have never made it in/out of my neighborhood. (Yeah--go Team Jeep!!!) Once all snow puppies were safely back in my keep again (I can't help it, it's the mother in me who needs to know that her little ones are safe when it's bad outside. If they are safe here with me, I don't have to worry as much. I only have to worry about the stupid stuff like when Colie was holding a laundry basket up to his face earlier today, so of course, that meant Karly had to kick it and smash Colie in the nose so that it started to bleed.... minor little things like that. Hopefully now that they are home safely, I won't kill them for driving me batty or they won't kill each other doing stupid stuff like kicking laundry baskets in each other's face.)

Well, awesome, fantabulous wicked cool mom that I am (hey--they agree with me), we simply HAD to go to TJ Maxx--because again--no maddening crowds or anything. Only this time, the boys were excited to go to TJ Maxx, as we were on a quest--for the perfect snow ball makers! When we were there a couple of days ago, we saw a box that had 2 snowball makers in it--but of course, since when are the weather forecasters EVER right? Needless to say, we passed on them. I mean, who really NEEDS snowball makers? God gave us hands, right? Can they not cup a wad of snow and make a snowball?

We got to TJ Maxx and alas, alak--the perfect snowball makers, as I feared, were gone! I was sure they would be--but to humor the boys, I thought we'd go look. While there, I figured I'd look around for anything else we might need, though I use the term "need" losely as do we really NEED snow ball makers? (Refer to my point about having hands.) We are just about to leave, walking down a main aisle, and there is an abandoned shopping cart--with TWO boxes of perfect snow ball makers! I stopped in my tracks--"Snow puppies--LOOK!" Then we looked around--there was NOBODY in sight. The cart was not at the end of an aisle, down which somebody might be browsing who'd so carelessly left the cart unattended. We looked again--and you could hear our glee, as we were not but so quiet about the thrill of finding them. Seeing nobody in sight come to investigate the commotion/claim the cart, we took the two boxes of snow ball makers and darted for the checkout! We were able to make off with our treasures and what was even better--they came in a snow brick storage box! All praise the World's Most Awesome Mom, snow puppy rescuer extraoridnaire! Baby snow puppy has outgrown his snow boots, though, and poor little thing, not wanting to miss the fun, he's got plastic bags tied around his feet--no worries, though, we double bagged him! There is now a blazing fire going in the fireplace, fresh, hot creamy chicken corn chowder soup is cooking, I'm sipping on raspberry hot chocolate--ah--life is good. I haven't done any sewing today--those plans kind of went to hell in a handbag, but at least I know my snow puppies are safe and will be warm once they come in from playing with their new snow ball makers.

I hope that you all are safe and warm--I am!

December 19, 2009 Shortly after noon time

VICTORIOUS!!!! Yes, I am victorious in my daring snow puppy rescue!!! We are now back home safe and warm in our home--and we even have groceries! It took me a good 20 minutes to sweep off the foot of snow (literally there was a foot of snow) from my car. I had a devil of a time, even in 4WD, getting out of my driveway as the snow was SO deep! I putt-putted my way out of my neighborhood, obviously one of the first to venture out into the winter wonderland. I called their dad to let him know I was en route but that it would be slow going. I'd selected a wonderful Italian opera--as well as my Hungarian language CD, with which to torture him, but evidently, the thought of being trapped in a confined space with me was as unappealing to him as it was me, and he somehow managed to get his dad, who evidently has a 4WD, to agree to come get him and take him to his stranded car. Thus, I was solely on a snow puppy rescue mission. I nearly asphixiated myself from my boots that I'd just waterproofed--the silicon was still noxious and they were not as dry as I thought.

Well, suffice it to say, that early, very few folks were on the road--nobody was out if you didn't have to be as the roads were gawd awful. My Jeep gets the crappiest of the crappiest mileage--it gets 17 mpg on a great day, with the sun shining, birds chirping, and the wind pushing us along in the proper direction. Anything less than perfect road conditions and it gets even crappier mileage. As I'd fill up the tank, there were many times I'd mutter to myself, "Why the *()#$()#$()$ do I keep a 4WD vehicle anyway--it's not like it ever snows around this place...." and then I remind myself of the 8 days trapped in the house with 3 children under the age of 5. Now, that will never happen again because the kids are 11 and 8, and as far as I know, there are no more plans to give birth to three more children, however, let me say, it was awesome that MOM had to come to the rescue. (BTW--his dad got stuck in a snow drift even with his 4WD, so yes, indeed, Mom the snow puppy rescuer ROCKS!!!! Let me say/write, I LOVE MY 4WD JEEP!!!! MY JEEP IS WONDERFUL IN A FOOT OF SNOW--I LOVE YOU LITTLE RED JEEP!!!!!!)

It was actually nice to be out draped in fur pelts from head to toe, with blinding snow (not really still blinding at that point--but I'm going for dramatic flair here.) all around as it reminded me of my fond memories of Budapest in February, with the snow swirling about. The fact that I had on my pink fox fur scarf, and my brown mink hat, and my brown Siberian winter fur, and my brown traipse-through-the-bitter-Budapest-cold,-snow-and-ice-boots, made it even more remeniscent of my time there and I eagerly look forward to my return trip.

My snow puppies were cold and hungry--they'd still had no breakfast by the time I got them at 10:45. We had to stop at a gas station and get something to eat as no restaurants were open. The boys hailed their mommy with praise--"You are the best mom--you fence, you have a bow, you shoot guns, you have perfect nails, you drive a 4WD Jeep to come rescue us and you were a body guard.... I bet there aren't many other moms who can say they've done all that...." I pretty much agreed with them. They also agreed that though I can be a bitter pill when it comes to missing homework assignments and broken violins, they are lucky to have me for a mom. What they thought was the best part was that their MOM had to come rescue them while they were with their dad and that their dad has never had to come rescue them. What can I say but that I rock. It IS nice not having to call on somebody to rescue me--not the least reason being that there's nobody to call to come rescue me because I'm the one they call to rescue them.

On the way back, traffic had picked up somewhat, though the roads were still horrible. We took a main road, not an interstate, back, as too many idiots on the interstate turned it into a parking lot. We passed a grocery store on the way home so we stopped to get some food. There were NO lines! Mind you, there was no bread, either, but I wasn't there for bread--I can bake my own bread. I was there for regular groceries and to get Christmas dinner. Don't you know it--they had no sugar cured ham and were out of heavy, sweet whipping cream. Here's what I want to know--WHAT part of a blizzard requires that there be a rush on heavy, sweet, whipping cream? I was just looking for it then because I'm too lazy to go grocery shopping again before Christmas--now I will have to, though, as I've got to get the ham. Oh well--we have plenty of food and now the roads are better AND we bought all of the mint and raspberry hot chocolate in the store. Hey--I can't bake mint/raspberry hot chocolate, so if they were going to be out of something, let them be out of bread. There were SO many stranded cars left on the side of the road. The exit we had to take to get home (eventually we got on the interstate after we left the grocery store) had three vehicles that slid off the exit ramp--one was way down in the trees, two others were right close to the road--it looks like they were so close I was surprised that they didn't crash into each other.

With that, I'm off to fix some raspberry hot chocolate! May you all be safe and warm today.

December 19, 2009

Good morning my Dear and Gentle Readers!

Ah, peace, glorious peace--on the way home (I left work an hour early to see the bubbies for a bit before their dad got them at 5:30 and to beat the snow that wasn't goint to really happen because the forecasters are always wrong anyway.) It was supposed to start snowing around 5 p.m. Yet again, they were wrong. It started around 4:23 p.m. Shows what they know.

Well, I'm home and tell the bubbies to get the shovel out of the shed and by now, the snow is sticking to the ground, barely covering it. Their dad comes to get them and they are so excited--they are going sledding and I'm even more excited--PEACE AND QUIET! I told the other mothers at the winter holiday party, as they were all discussing their plans for the weekend, that alas, poor Tonbijou was going to be home, ALL BY HER LONESOME, left to sit in front of the fireplace--ALONE. The other mothers could hear the pain and anguish in my voice at the thought of having the house all to myself--no children to mess it up or be bickering or to pester me with, "Momma, can I play the wii?... Momma, can we..... Momma, he tried to...." They knew I was going to be a desperate, hollow shell of a forlorn mother, what with all of her little darlings away for the weekend. I was just going to have to keep myself busy with my sewing and reading, watching the clock for their return on Monday. At work, my coworkers were teasing me, as I lamented being alone over the weekend. "Lemme guess--you're going to sew roses..." Hey--what's wrong with sewing roses all weekend??? I was going to stay up late sewing and wake up late--if I was lucky, not before noon!

So--the kids leave me. I was SO choked up at the thought of having the house, all to myself. For dinner, I ate Dove milk chocolate. Eventually, I got around to fixing a motley assortment of foods--cheese and crackers, meat sliced from a beef log--the kind from Holly Farms that you get during the holidays, with the sweet hot mustard on it, and some crazy cashew coconut basmati rice that I just had to microwave. Yeah--it WAS pretty nasty. The main thing, though, was to eat things that I didn't have to cook, nor clean up after. As an adult, with nobody bitching and complaining about something to eat, and no kids to prepare a REAL meal for--I can eat Dove milk chocolate for dinner if I want to. The other reason was that there was nothing to eat in the house anyway as I typically need to go to the grocery store ANYWAY when it snows, and I refuse to do so because of all the idiot dingbats who rush out when there's the threat of snow to get eggs, bread and milk. I always wondered about that--why not just get real food anyway--why only bread, eggs and milk? Me--I need REAL groceries ANYWAY. It NEVER snows after I buy groceries. It only snows when there is nothing but microwavable cashew coconut basmati rice in the house. Thus, this entire winter blizzard is MY fault because had I gone to the grocery store this week--it would have passed us by.

Well, I try to occupy my lonely self. I worked on the hem of my ballgown, getting most of the machine sewing done. Today I'll just have 9 yards of infintessimal hand sewing to do on it--using a running stitch. Well, I finally settle in, snuggly under my blankie on the sofa. There's no fire going at this time because it's late and I'm too darn lazy to move the 857 red poinsettias in front of the fireplace. The phone rings. Normally, I'd also be too lazy to get up and answer the phone, but as my chickeebabies are out, and it's a snow storm, and their dad was to drive to Northern Virginia two hours away, that was expecting twice as much snow as we were, I figured I'd answer it. I'm a good mother like that. When the kids are gone, I check the phone when it rings. Sure enough, darnit all--it was their dad. They were at a hotel, just 20 minutes away. The car ended up sliding off the road into a ditch. He just wanted to let me know the boys were fine.

Of course, as a mom, you are always worried when your kids are gone--particularly when it's nasty weather outside. Then, a short while later, the phone rings again. It's their dad, again. "Hey, is your Jeep 4WD?" Of course it is, and it's not like I could lie about and get away with it--I mean, the boys know mom's Jeep is 4WD--not that I'd lie about it anyway. "Um, yeah, AAA won't tow my car until I'm there..... I need you to come get us back to the car....." Well, now as a mom, what exactly am I supposed to/going to say when my kids are stranded in a snow storm and their dad drives a piece of crap little car? I can't exactly say, "Hey, it's your weekend.... you figure it out...." I didn't hand him the "I'll deal with you and these problems later...." line of horsecrap. I dont' view the monkey bubbies as problems--well, except when Colie breaks his violin.... And POOF--in one phone call, my glorious, stay up late, sleep late weekend--well, at least Saturday night,was gone. "Darnit all," I say, "I want to sleep late," to which he replied I could go and get him now and take him to his car--and he'd wait in the snow storm for AAA to come tow his car to the hotel. He said the boys could stay at the hotel and he'd wait and then be back at the hotel with the car later. Hm.... let's see--and we wonder why mom has sole custody. What kind of cockamamie stupid thing to do is that? As much as I'd love for their dad to be stranded at night in the dark in a snowstorm on the interstate with lots of other crazy drivers skidding off the road, I'm NOT going to leave my kids, alone, in a hotel room for their dad to maybe/maybe not make it back to them, and I'm sure as hell NOT going to go out driving at night in a blizzard any friggin way in the first place.

I must say, I'm really glad I didn't get the Prius this summer like I was thinking of doing. I only have one more year left to pay off my Jeep and if I got the Prius, I'd have ended up only getting for the Jeep what I owe on it, and then starting from zero with the Prius--and the thought of being out here by myself, with nobody to rely on in a snow storm if I needed help, was just not something I wanted to risk. Yes, I am the person who is over insured. I need to be able to sleep at night, not worrying about what if this happens or what if that happens. I get eaten up by guilt, so the best way for me not to have to deal with guilt trips is to not do anything worthy of a guilt trip in the first place. (Come on--the last weekend supposedly with no friends, I held drooly babies at my nail salon tech's wedding. This weekend, my glorious kid free weekend was to be spent making roses and reading the history of the Bible--seriously. So it's not like I'm out doing anything wild and crazy.) What I find ironic is that I am the only one in my circle of people I know who has a 4WD Jeep--and thus, I'm the one who has to go and help people. I don't mind helping people, particularly my own kids, stranded in a snow storm, but darnit all--I just want to sleep late--is that asking too much? Obviously, it is.

On the one hand, it's a hassle--but on the other hand, it's quite another thing to know that I can take care of myself. I can take care of a crisis, event or issue--and I don't have to be dependent on anybody else. The last time we had a really big snowfall like this, Baby was, well, a baby--actually, not yet two, and the twins were maybe 4 and a half. We were snowed in for 8 days--imagine, 8 days, snowed in with 3 small children under the age of 5. Need I say more as to why I insist that I have a 4WD vehicle at my disposal? I didn't think so.

This morning, I checked in with their dad--did he still need me to come rescue the kids. He asked how bad it was outside. I told him there was about a foot of snow already and that it's supposed to snow all day. There's no way he's making it to NoVA this weekend. Thus, with that, I've got to go start cleaning off the car and rescue my little stranded snow puppies. Unfortunately, I've got to take their dad also--and drop him off at his dad's--so I've got to plan carefully what type of music to force him to listen to in the car--it's got to be the most obnoxious fat lady singing opera I have handy so that the drive is insufferable. Hey, I can't deal with guilt and lies, but I can do passive aggressive. The snow monkeys, well, they are used to having to listen to that type of thing in the car, so they won't care. I've already re-waterproofed my boots and they are almost dry now. I can do cold weather like this. Since I'm always so cold, I have enough fur pelts that pretty much no part of my body is left undraped in dead animals. I know that's not very PC--but if you were as skinny as I am, you'd drape yourself in animal pelts too. With that, I'm off to rescue my puppies. Once I have my snow puppies, we'll go grocery shopping, as now everybody else who has to run out before the snow hits to get their milk, eggs and bread, are all stuck in their houses. I'll post a picture of the snow later.

December 18, 2009

Hello on this nippy cold last Friday before Christmas!

I am still delighting in my Banana Nut Crunch for breakfast. The thrill of my favorite cold cereal in the morning has not yet worn off. Okay, here is a sad, sad little tale for you all--but that's okay. Not every story can be fun and wildly exciting. Years ago, on December 23rd, 1997, to be exact, I found out that not only was I pregnant (which I already knew) but I was pregnant with TWINS! Unfortunately, what should have been a wonderful moment wasn't. I remember that I told their dad and his response was, "I'll deal with you and these problems later." He left my Christmas present by the front door and then left--and I didn't hear from him again until January 5th. He went down to the Florida Keys for the holidays--which I didn't know until his call/return on the 5th, leaving me to spend them alone--well, alone as far as adult togetherness was concerned. I had those two little butterbeans inside of me--later to be known of as Colie and Karly, and of course, my beautiful daughter, Bambi.

That's just one of the many reasons I try to lock myself in a closet and have NO contact with the outside world on December 23rd--but I'll save the other horrible things that have happened in Tonbijou's life on December 23rd for another day. I'm not, however, finished with my sad story. Well, it was clear to me at that point that most likely I couldn't count on their dad to be an active player in raising these boys. January 5th, when their dad decided to grace me with a phone call, and to later eventually come back, he saw the Christmas present by the front door, in EXACTLY the same spot as he'd left it, now with 14 days worth of dust on it, evidently untouched.

He urged me to open it--"You'll LOVE it!" he assured me. I refused. "But when I saw it, I KNEW this was something you'd love...." He kept on and on and on with urging me to accept it--he really wanted me to have it, and I steadfastly refused, not even touching the box to shake it or feel how heavy it was.

What people fail to remember at this time of year is that it's SUPPOSED to be filled with love for those near and dear to your heart. I'm adamant about not accepting presents from somebody when there is not love in that person's heart for me. It defeats the purpose of giving/accepting a gift. Why would I want something from somebody who obviously had so little regard for me--the future mother of his two children????? To this day, I have no idea what was in the box and I don't care. What would possibly make him think that whatever was in that box could make up for his "I'll deal with you and these problems later," and then leaving me, alone with the knowledge that I'd have twins, so close before Christmas? Did he think I was SO desperate for a present that I'd accept his gift, despite what could only be deemed callous, unloving, uncaring treatment of me and those "problems"?

Karly's rendition of Van Gogh's Almond Blossoms, or a Bambi artwork original or a big hug from Baby or Colie playing a song on his violin for me--those things are more dear to me than any expensive present that could be given to me--because I know they were created/done just for me. Yes, I want a 21 megapixel camera--but not if it's given absent love. How can you tell if there is love? Well, for starters, people who love you won't treat you like crap--that's the most basic indication. People's actions speak volumes, and there is no way whatever gift that was left by the front door on December 23rd, 1997, could have been given with love under those circumstances. Had I accepted it, I'm sure it would always have been a thorn in my side, a painful reminder of the hurt and devastation caused by being left alone for the holidays for him to come back and deal with me and those problems later. All of this is to say, let what you give, and what you receive, be done in love.

On a totally unrelated note, today is Baby's winter holiday party at school. I'm passing up lunch out with everybody else on the boss to go play winter bingo and eat cupcakes, but it makes Baby so happy for mom to be there at his school for such things. He's only got 2 more years of winter holiday parties where mom can be the hero and then I've got the rest of my life to have lunch with my coworkers for the holidays. I am going to get my Christmas present to myself (because I love myself, chances are I'll accept this present to me.) When I had to take Colie's violin to get fixed earlier this week, I special ordered a piece of music--unfortunately, I had to order it in a book with 55 other songs that I have no idea what they are and most likely don't care to have them. It's sort of like buying a whole CD for one good song. I wanted the lyrics to Offenbach's "Tales from Hoffman" to his Barcarolle. I found lyrics, somewhat, online, but they were buggered up and then my computer didn't like me very much after that. It's a love song duet in French, I'm pretty sure it's French--and it's absolutel gorgeous. It's a piece of music featured in Roberto Benigni's "La Vita e Bella," also known in English as "Life is Beautiful." In the movie, the main character and his future wife are at an opera--but are not there together. This piece of music is sung and later that night, they end up walking together and that begins their budding romance. Years later, as he is a Jew, he and the son are deported and she, the wife, though not a Jew, wouldn't let her son and husband go somewhere without her going with them--even if it meant to her death. The husband, always one for folly, finds himself near an SS office and sneaks in, sees that piece of music from their night at the opera and he plays that particular piece, the Barcarolle. He puts the phonograph so that it plays into the camp loud speakers. His wife, on the women's side of the concentration camp, hears the music and knows it is from her husband. Even if you don't know the translation, the music is exquisite--but knowing what the lyrics mean, and that it is a love song, makes it even more beautiful.

To make a long story short, I ordered the music book that has the lyrics to the Barcarolle so that now I can sing along in French to the soundtrack. Is that not the hokiest thing you've ever heard? So, that is my Christmas present to myself--French lyrics to Offenbach's Barcarolle. (What were you expecting--remember, I'm the same gal who was THRILLED to find my Banana Nut Crunch cereal.)

On another totally unrelated note, we are to get dumped on big time with snow! I will have no chickeebabies this weekend and will be home, snuggled in front of the fireplace with hot chocolate and my warm blankie. I might still have a few roses to make for my ball gown bodice, but there is a slight chance I'm done with the rose making for the bodice. I'll still have a few more to make for the skirt part of the gown, but not nearly so many. Regardless, I've got plenty to do while snowed in at the house. I hope that you all have a wonderful weekend, stay safe and warm! Oh--I almost forgot--my bright spot for today is that I'm actually on the Opera Ball's email Christmas card list--AND that I knew it was a Merry Christmas in Hungarian Christmas email! Woo hoo--yeah!!! You know you've made it when you are on the Opera Ball's email holiday postcard email list. (Yet further proof that I have such low expectations or that I find happiness in the little things in life--you pick.)

December 16, 2009

My Dear and Gentle Readers,

What a glorious day it is today, indeed, as I had my Banana Nut Crunch cereal for breakfast! The day will get even better as we have our company Christmas luncheon today and they are serving Buzz and Ned's barbeque! Woo hoo!!! I was supposed to be out of town today with one of our field associates. I was kinda bummed as well, I couldn't be out of the office yesterday because we had our company ornament exchange Christmas party and heaven forbid that work should interfere with the work Christmas ornament exchange. (We get cut-throat over the ornaments. I got my little glass racoon on skis ornament stolen by one of our directors, so that kinda sucked, but then I stole somebody elses glass wreath and got to keep it and now it's hanging proudly on my $35 Made in China from Walmart tree.a I could't go to the field office on Thursday because I didn't want to be late getting back for Colie's violin concert (can he make it through the day without breaking his violin today?) and Friday was out because as the main room parent, I've got to be at Baby's school for his winter holiday party. Well, I kept wondering WHEN was our company Christmas luncheon and low and behold, it was scheduled for the same day I was supposed to be out of the office darnitall!!! I was wondering if I could gracefully bail on my esteemed cohort when all of a sudden, I get an email from the client we were supposed to meet indicating he'd been in a bad car accident earlier in the morning and wouldn't be able to meet with us tomorrow (now today.) What a relief! I mean--it sucks that he got into a car accident and all, but it gave me a valid excuse to reschedule and get to stay for our holiday luncheon. She was fine with that and understood and we will reschedule for after the holidays. One must keep her priorities straight and I can't believe I scheduled something out of the office during our Christmas luncheon. WHAT was I thinking???? (To be sure, I knew we were planning on lunch at a place with the most divine she-crab soup, but the hungry puppy side of me wanted a day with she-crab soup AND a day with Buzz & Ned's barbeque.)

I got pictures of the tree last night, and the poinsettias by the fireplace (of course, next time I light a fire, I must move all 50 gajillion of them) and of Karlie's rendition of Van Gogh's "Almond Blossoms" painting. I want to work on doing a slide show, but first I've got to figure out how to write that code. I'll get around to it eventually--or not. We did run some errands last night. When we got home, I settled in, all snuggled up under my warm blankie, and I finished the last big rose needed for the neckline of my ballgown. YEAH!!! I still have more big ones to make for the lower portion of the dress--but this was a major accomplishment. I also got in the horsehair braid from the millinery company yesterday so I can finish the hem of the gown this weekend. Once I get the dress hemmed, I have finished the functional construction of the gown and could, in theory, wear it out and it look perfect, as if it was made that way. Once the functional construction is finished, I just have to add fru-fru swags on it and sew the roses onto it and then voila, I'm done! Then I've got to fix my peacock feather hair comb and can go have my portrait taken. What ever am I to do once the ball has come and gone--I will have nothing but time on my hand in the evenings. I am sure I will find some wildly exciting book on existentialism in post feminist contemporary neo-Platonist societies or something like that to read, enthralled. I guess then I'll just start working on the gown for October's Pink Tie Gala. It is SO disappointing how people in my town dress for a gala. It's a GALA people--dress like it's a GALA. If it was a cocktail party, it would be the Pink Tie Cocktail Party, but it's NOT--it's the Pink Tie GALA. That would mean NO PANTS SUITS for women. For men, a GALA by definition is NOT a business event, for which business attire is suitable. It's time for the tuxedo. Ladies, break out your full-length gowns and opera length gloves. Come on now. Is it any wonder we can't keep a sports team here if we can't even figure out what we're supposed to do for a GALA? Support your sports teams; wear gala attire to a gala event. It's not rocket science.

Another bright spot in my day has been that Mary in housekeeping just gave me a nice Christmas card. I have made it a point in most every place that I have lived to know my neighbors (even when I lived in Prague, I had tea at the neighbor's apartment. At the time, before things were so bastardized with tourists, having an American living next door was still a novelty.) I also know the names of the people in the toll booths--well, I did when I actually had to stop and pay the tolls, but thank GAWD for EZ Pass--and to those morons who get on the downtown expressway/195 with no EZ Pass--WTF is your problem--get an EZ Pass already and quit slowing things down! When I at a place that a person is wearing a name tag, I call the person by his/her name. I know our building cleaning staff by name--and it's a good thing--that how I end up getting the email that there are orphaned poinsettias free to good homes before the others got the notice. So, Mary came to hand deliver a Christmas card for me today and I thought that was sweet. I'd rather be known as the nice person on 18 than that bitch who turns her nose up at people.

Speaking of which, I got a call yesterday from a federal agency fact checker person whose job it is to make sure their information is current. The first time, three years ago, this person called, and I was a total idiot. He called and was asking if this and that information was correct and I informed him that he had severely outdated information and had he been to our website lately. I told him we'd redone the website and asked him what version of the site he had. We were not getting anywhere and I commented, "Well, what does it look like--the old site was white with a blue header. The new site is black and red with a black header...." He replied that he couldn't see the page--to which I immediately responded, "Oh, you'd have to be blind not to tell the difference." He responded with, "I am blind." Then I heard his computer talking to him. Yep, Tonbijou was a total idiot moron dingbat.

I tried as graciously as I could to play that off without the unavoidable embarrassment. I let him take as much time as he needed to ask me about every little phone number, fax number, email address, all the while wanting to skulk under my desk as a result of my politically incorrect faux pas. When we were done, he thanked me for my time and I hung up and felt like a total insensitive baffoon.

This same person called last year and when he called, I immediately remembered who he was. I bent over backwards to help him and didn't dare say something so insensitive again. This year, he called, and was very sweet, saying I was the sunshine of the state, so helpful I was. I will atone for my insensitive faux pas in perpetuity. (Here's how you can tell if a person is sorry for what he/she has done. Mind you, I didn't mean to insult or embarrass the person, but I did so inadvertently. Since then, I have gone out of my way to not to do so, and when we re-did our website, I made sure the developers coded it to be handicapped compliant. See--when you screw up, the way to make it right is to STOP SCREWING UP. If I kept screwing up in the same way, well, 1. that's just mean and 2. how does that show I'm sorry for what I've done if I keep doing it? Atonement--it's a good thing. More people should practice it.) In any event, I want to be remembered not as the uncouth person who said, "You'd have to be blind not to tell the difference...." or the one who is too busy to say hello to the custodial staff, but rather the one who can say good morning to Mary, or Stephanie at the garage gate, and call them by name. Olver who sweeps the floor is no less important than anybody else. I knew of somebody who, in driving his BMW to his lawfirm where he worked as an attorney, seemed to have a disdain for anybody who didn't drive a BMW and work as an attorney at a lawfirm. What escaped him was that SOMEBODY had to build the BMW. Somebody had to sew the Hugo Boss suit he wore. Somebody had to pump the gas from the truck into the gas station pumps so that he could drive his BMW. There have to be people to fix the private planes that the obscenely wealthy fly. Why is it that these people shouldn't matter, or shouldn't be respected, or called by their names? Treating people courteously, using their names, that's nothing other than respect at is most basic level. This holiday season, make sure that you take time to notice a person's name on his/her nametag and use it when speaking to him/her. Be polite. Be patient with the person whom you don't know on the other end of the phone. I have another story I'll tell you about being nice to people--but that will have to wait for another day. In a nut shell--you never know how what you do can/may come back to you--and I'd like to think that what goes out from me is nice, so that when it comes back to me, it doesn't bite me in the ass on the return trip.

With that, my dear and gentle readers, I bid you farewell for today.

December 15, 2009

Hello my little darlings,

I don't know if I've come to expect so little in life, or if I'm just able to be happy with the little things in life, but last night was a glorious moment, indeed. After nearly having a meltdown over Colie breaking his violin AGAIN (thank GAWD for violin renter's insurance!!!!!), we had to go to Target to get some laundry detergent. While there, you know how I feel about Target selling milk--another "thank GAWD," and well, as long as we're getting milk, get some cereal and then I don't have to make an extra trip to Kroger..... The boys were on the cereal aisle and low and behold, both sides of the aisle had cereal. I looked for my favorite brand of cereal- I think it's by Post--but it's Banana Nut Crunch--they had it!!!!

I was euphorically ecstatic--FINALLY, after nearly a year without it being stocked on the aisle in Kroger, I could have the brand name Banana Nut Crunch cereal again! Kroger sells their Kroger generic brand and I have tried it, but it is horrid--it's like they dumped an entire bottle of fake banana extract in it. For those of you who don't know me (pretty much most everybody reading this with maybe one exception) I hate--let me emphasize--LOATHE, ABHOR, DISDAIN ETC. artificial banana flavoring. I will projectile vomit with added banana flavoring. Even if it's real bananas, doesn't matter--I only like banana flavoring when it comes from a fresh banana I've just peeled and am eating-- EXCEPT when it's banana flavoring in THIS SPECIFIC brand of Banana Nut Crunch. (Flashback to my assistants during the conference--I AM NOT NEEDY!!!) I was so excited that I had to stop myself from buying all the boxes on the shelf, rationalizing that most likely, they would have more boxes of this cereal the next time I went there and sought out the much coveted Post Banana Nut Crunch. It was then that I had to stop and ask myself, "Really, Tonbijou--you are THIS excited over CEREAL????? Do you expect so little from life now that finding your favorite cereal makes your day? (or night, as was this instance.)" One of my assistants at work assures me that it's the little things in life that matter. I was so happy to have it that I ate it for dinner, not being able to wait until morning to have it for breakfast. Ah, the little things make me happy.

It reminds me of the time years ago, when Bambi's dad and I had just gotten married and we had no washer/dryer of our own and had to go to his mother's house to do our laundry. His sister was getting married/moving into their new house and were getting a new washer/dryer in the process, so they gave us their old washer/dryer. Oh the joy I had, laundry all in the floor, washing clothes. Bambi's dad thought it was the funniest thing, that I was overjoyed at having a washer/dryer--and they weren't even new. Mind you, the euphoria of being able to do laundry whenever I wanted/needed to soon wore off, but it was good while it lasted.

This might help better explain why I love dryers so much. When I was younger, my evil step-mother (no, unfortunately I didn't have a step-mother, I just had a mother, but she was evil nonetheless, much as a step-mother stereotypically would have been, because no biological mother would be capable of being so cruel. I like to think I was adopted/dropped off by a stork.)..... ah, but I digress. So, my evil step-mother would do laundry and would make me hang the clothes out on the clothes line. We lived in an older neighborhood where clotheslines were allowed--unfortunately. I distinctly recall a day that I was out hanging clothes, IN THE SNOW. Mind you, the clothes would freeze before they would dry--but my genius evil step-mother evidently missed that day of school when they went over what happens to water when it's left outside in the freezing cold.

So there I was, hanging clothes outside in a foot of snow and if you've never had the great (dis)pleasure of hanging clothes outside in a foot of snow (consider yourself lucky), you can't really do it while wearing gloves. I'm outside, freezing, my fingers are numb, the clothes are ice cold, and in evil step-mother's limited mind, this makes perfectly good sense. (One of her favorite phrases was "That person hasn't got the sense God gave an animal cracker." I think it applied to her perfectly.) As the sun set, it was time to bring the clothes in off the line and wadda ya know--they were frozen stiff. I literally had to bring in the jeans and they were rigid--and left them standing in a corner to thaw out.

Thus, as an adult, I eschew clothes lines as much as I eschew being in the same place as my evil step-mother. I will gladly pay the electric bill for drying clothes in the dryer. It's the little things in life--warm clothes out of the dryer and brand name Banana Nut Crunch cereal, that put a smile on my face.

What else put a smile on my face today was that our concierge, Carla, knows how much I LOVE red poinsettias. Each year, our office buildings are decorated with red poinsettias. This year, they had so many left over--how that happened, I don't know. Carla sent me an email that there were orphaned red poinsettias, free to a good home, but were on a first come basis. Well, what more need you say to me to go rescue poor, homeless red poinsettias? Not a darn thing and I bolted like a jackrabbit down to the management office. I asked how many I could take; they said as many as I could carry. I evidently got there first (Carla likes me) and took three, then went back for more and got 4 more--by which time others were arriving. One woman said, "Did you leave any for anybody else????" Hey, I can't help it that she was slow. I took them straight to my car and loaded up the back of my Jeep. The red poinsettias didn't stop there--one of my assistants brought me a little red poinsettia for my desk. I am replete with red poinsettias!

I have absolutely NO idea where I will put them at home as well, I've already got red poinsettias at home. I have this thing, though, in that I refuse to BUY live red poinsettias. I'd rather pay $5 for a fake one on sale that will last me for a few years than pay $5 for a live one that will die on me on 12/26. People who know me know how much I love red poinsettias so I am given a lot of them during the holiday, hence the reason I won't buy live ones for myself. (Are we noticing a trend here--give Tonbijou a $3 poinsettia and she's as thrilled as a kid in a candy shop. I really must raise my expectations, no?) I have managed to keep some alive for a few years before--but unfortunately I never got them to turn red again for me. In any event, suffice it to say that there are tons of red poinsettias in my family room. I will have to take a picture and post it--but trust me, TONS of them.

We FINALLY got the tree decorated last night. We weren't able to use all of our decorations as the tree is smaller than the one we've used the last few years. For the most part, we put the red poinsettia ornaments on the tree and once we filled it with all the pretty decorations, the tree looks very respectable, despite its $35 price tag Made in China from Walmart origins. After the boys were tucked in bed, I curled up under a blankie on the sofa, lights out, with only the tree lights on--while listening to Christmas music. My meltdown with Colie breaking his violin, AGAIN, had passed, the house was relatively clean, the tree decorated, my tummy full from cold Banana Nut Crunch cereal--ah, life was good. So, back to my original question--is it that I really have come to expect so little out of life that I'm happy with such things as my favorite cereal, "new" old dryers and free poinsettias (my friend Theresa gives me her poinsettia rejects as she HATES poinsettias and her grandmother always gives her one), or is it that I am able to savor life's little pleasures? Does it really matter, so long as I can be thankful and happy? At the point in time we are always wanting what we don't/can't/won't have in order to be happy, instead of focusing on what we do have--well, how can you ever be happy in the now if you are always waiting for some point in the future to be happy? (Mind you, if somehow Santa does think of me and there happens to be a 21 megapixel Nikon or Canon SLR under my $35 Made in China from Walmart Christmas tree, I will also be very happy, but as I know that won't happen, I can't "wait" to be happy for when that does end up under my tree or I will be waiting a VERY long time.) I am sure when the future comes, later today, tomorrow, next week, next year--whenever, if I can be happy for cold cereal and free poinsettias that most likely will be dead in a week, I'm sure I'll find something else to be happy for a week from now also.

With that, my dear little lambikins, I bid you farewell. May your day have a bright spot or two in it for you.

December 14, 2009

Hello to my dear and gentle readers,

What a nippy cold weekend it was this past weekend here in my world! The beauty of that is it gives me an excuse to swath myself in loads of fur and in my world, I feel very self-important, and warm. I did, however, opt to wear my ski jacket on Sunday, opting for light-weight warmth--with my muck muck boots that weathered the nasty cold of Budapest, and my fuzzy fox fur hat and fox fur gloves and I looked rather stylin' if I do say so myself! As you can imagine, it's very important to look stylin' in the nasty cold with four kids under foot. I have to set an example for them. Boys are supposed to end up with a woman like their mother. Girls end up with a man like their dads. (Since daddy died when I was five, I guess that explains things....) Well, with that in mind, my boys better have good jobs and lots of patience. I wonder if they will end up with women who have perfectly manicured nails who tend to be a bit extravagant. Only time will tell, no?

This weekend, aside from traipsing about swathed in dead animals, I channeled my inner Disney princess. Baby just humored me--but then again, Baby darn near about humors me with anything. He was playing on the Wii and watching boy things, and momma was in the other room, sewing furtively on her ball gown. I watched Enchanted twice, but only after watching Beauty and the Beast twice. I tell you, I bet there are some people who could stand to learn a lot from watching that movie. Mrs. Potts and Lumiere tell Beast, "But above all, YOU MUST CONTROL YOUR TEMPER!!!" Of course, he doesn't. If he doesn't change his mean ways, he's going to remain a beast forever. As Beast is howling and snarling at Belle, yelling at her what she MUST do, Lumiere is saying, "Forgive me Sir, but if you expect to win the girl's affection, I'm not sure that is the way to go about it...." That was a pretty smart candlestick.

In any event, as I was singing along with Belle about wanting adventure in the great wide somewhere, and that there must be more than this provencial life, I realized that I truly was a Disney princess trapped in a mortal body. Cinderella runs off to the ball and ends up with Prince Charming. Ariel ends up with Eric, Belle ends up with Beast--albeit he's no longer Beast after true love's kiss--but Aurora--she gets her prince, Snow White gets hers, even though she nearly died in the process, as did most of the others, what with all the poison apples, evil witches, snarling wolves and so on--and all of these gals didn't follow directions, were rebellious and snuck out, ran off, didn't listen to their elders--in most cases, they blatanty disobeyed their elders--and they all got to wear beautiful ball gowns in the process and lived happily ever after in a gorgeous castle. The only thing I'm missing is the ability to summon woodland creatures to do my bidding at the tone of my mellifluous voice harkening them--well, that, and the minor detail of the happily ever after in a gorgeous castle. Gosh, doesn't reality bite?

So here is a true story. When Bambi was little, she HATED to clean her room. (Well, not much has changed over the years, has it Bambi? Your room is still sort of a condemned disaster area.... Love you!) In any event, for the life of me, I could NOT get that child to clean--UNLESS--we were playing Cinderella and I was the wicked stepmother ordering her to clean up. She would clean up so long as she was Cinderella--but otherwise, it wasn't going to happen. Unfortunately, with boys, it doesn't work that way. There are no Disney disenfranchised prince stories whereby the forlorn prince must scrub floors at the behest of his evil stepparent. Even if there was, I doubt my boys would go for it. No worries, though, usually I just have to be the evil parent and order them to do the dishes anyway and they will do them.

As it stands, my ball gown is nearing completion. I will surely have many more opportunities to channel my inner Disney princess--all culminating in the ball in Budapest and then alas, the clock will strike twelve, (actually 5 a.m. at the ball in Budapest) and my coach will simply be a City Taxi, and life will go back to normal and I will once more find myself scrubbing floors and cleaning the burnt cinders from the fireplace. Ah the tragedy!

With that, I am almost about to bid you adieu, but wait, there's more! I had the nicest bit of holiday cheer over the weekend. On Friday, just before leaving work, Mary and Olver at work brought me 3 red poinsettias to take home with me. That was very sweet of them. They are part of our cleaning staff here at our office building and I took them a sweet potato pie last week after our staff meeting. The recipe makes two and I can't eat that much pie, so I brought it in for them and they loved it. Then, Karly, bless his heart, is taking art this year in middle school. They were studying French Impressionists. They had to pick an artist and do their version of one of the artist's works and Karly picked Vincent Van Gogh--and Karly did his interpretation of Almond Blossoms--only instead of white blossoms, he made them pink, for his momma who loves pink, and that was his Christmas present to me, which he gave me early since they had to bring the picture home from school and it's kinda big. Now I have Bambi originals and a Karly original! Beyond that, Saturday night, I took the monkeys to a Christmas program at a nearby church and it was incredible. The quality of the music was outstanding. I got to hear "O Holy Night," sung by a massive choir. Regardless of the origins of this or that and my confusion over organized religion, beautiful music is beautiful music. NOW with that, I bid you adieu.

December 11, 2009

Hello my dear little lammiekins,

Most likely I should not write what I'm about to write, but I will write it anyway. I am not in the Christmas spirit. I can't say that I'm fully a Scrooge ba-humbug this year, as I have decorated somewhat, but well, I'm just not feeling the love of the holiday season. When you consider Christmas was not really celebrated as the birth of Christ until it became an imperial edict in the 4th century, (which don't even get me started down that path!) to believe that December 25th is really the birth of Christ, as opposed to the date the pagans had celebrated their sun god, Mithra, for centuries before that--well, I'm kinda getting a bit confused by it all. (I know that many will decry me as a heretic--but again, don't get me started on the origins of 'herecy' as that really had to do with when Emperor Constantine declared any Christian sect not espousing the imperial edicts defining Christianity--as opposed to what scripture defined as Christianity--was herecy because Constantine offered exemption from taxation and conscription to Christian communities. With that in mind, everybody and their cousins decided to be Christian, so some heavy parameters had to be set as to what could officially be considered the "correct" form of Christianity and worship and the brand of heretic was simply a device by which to collect taxes and battlefield fodder.)

Okay--but back to my point--regardless of the how or why of Christmas celebration, there is an expectation that during the holidays--whatever holiday you celebrate, for whatever reason, all is supposed to be merry and bright. What a bunch of crap that is for most people. It's not merry and bright when there is so much pressure to over-extend yourself--and for what? Here, when time with family is supposed to be so important, people are extremely stressed--year end stress at work to get things all tied up prior to the close of the year, hurry up and use FSA benefits prior to year end, beat the maddening crowds at the malls to buy stuff that you don't need but hey, it's on sale anyway and--and WHY do we do this to ourselves???

Now, let's think about things--what is the divorce rate in this country? It's pretty high--we would all agree. I don't know what the most recent figure is, but everybody likes to throw around 50%. Now, if 50% end in divorce, that doesn't mean that the other 50% of folks are happy (and let's not neglect the unmarried crowd who wants to be married but isn't so that then they, too, can be part of the 50% of divorces....) --it just means that many haven't gotten divorced yet for whatever reason. In this economic downturn, surely we have all read stories of the people who want to get divorced but can't afford it. I don't know what is worse--being alone for the holidays or being stuck with somebody you wish was gone and you wish you were alone. From experience though, I find that being alone is less lonely than being with somebody but feeling like you are alone. At least when you are alone, you KNOW you are alone, but when you are married, but STILL feel alone, that is so empty. How many people are feeling like that at this time of year? How about all of us alone folks out there who know there will be nothing under the tree for us, and nobody to kiss us under the mistletoe? Doesn't that suck?

How many people, who are not alone, and ARE happy with their special somebody--still feel the stress of having to do more with less? (I guess they are still better off than those of us who are alone and stressed with having to do more with less--at least they have somebody to kiss under the mistletoe.) I have seen a car commercial on TV--about how when you give somebody one of these cars for Christmas, you'll make memories that last for years to come. Wow--and Baby recently asked me why Santa never brings momma presents, and here some people get CARS from Santa for Christmas???? Wow, I must perpetually be on Santa's bad-girl list. I can't even get a camera I've wanted for years for Christmas, let alone a car.

I have a dear friend, Kay, and she's single, never married--sort of by choice, sort of by default, but there is someone for whom her heart pines, unrequitedly. (Doesn't unrequited love bite? That's so hollow and sad. I have a thing or two to say to the recipients of unrequited love--come on already! Either requite the love or quit torturing the giver of the unrequited love so that maybe that poor soul can get over you and find somebody willing to requite.) Well, Kay is about to file for bankruptcy. Why in the hell would I want Kay to buy me a present for Christmas? If I love her as dearly as I do, knowing what her financial situation is, I wouldn't want her to spend one cent on me--as again, it's not the presents that matter. (Yes, I want Santa to bring me a camera, but it's not like it's going to actually happen--I can want it all I want--but if Santa isn't going to bring it, because Santa doesn't bring momma presents, Kay sure as hell isn't going to bring it either--and I wouldn't want her to unless she had just won the lottery. Heck, then she could get me the car, too!) So, if you are in a situation similar to Kay's, the people who love you DON'T want you buying things that are going to put you more in a financial bind than you already are.

Hey, I warned you I was in a ba-humbug kind of mood. Here's what I would like for Christmas, besides the camera of my dreams with all of the various lenses and accessories--I would like to be surrounded by those I love--and have a good meal (which would, of course, include my homemade mashed potatoes), with a fire blazing in the fireplace. I am going to let go of expectations--and if anything nice happens, that will be icing on the cake. Am I just getting too old, or jaded, to hope for something more during the holidays--or is this really what should be the focus instead of all the other superficial, material things that have come to be the cornerstone of the holidays?

As for New Year's, I've given up hoping that "This New Year will be better...." as inevitably, each year brings with it its own highs and lows. I don't think I can recall a single year that was categorically a good year. There is no day without a night. What goes up, must come down. I think rather than hope for only sunshine and up days, I will look forward to the New Year with the realization that I will more fully appreciate the sunny, up times and that I'm better able to handle whatever the downs are--because trust me, a year without any downs in it probably means that it's been a year since I died and was burried. Well, I will have one hope for the New Year--that things don't go to hell in a handbag ON my birthday--AGAIN. One year, I got CRAPPY news around 5 p.m. on New Year's Eve--which guaranteed my year would start off crappy--but it was something that was resolved within a month and now I can just reflect and think, "That sure was a crappy way to start the year...." However, last year, ON my birthday, no joke, I got the crappiest of crappy, horrible, awful news--and it's news that every day of every year will always be there. Now it makes the crappy news I got on that New Year's Eve years ago seem like "And I was upset about THAT???? At least that came to pass....." I guess all things are relative, no? But for now--can the crappy news, whatever it is, at least wait until 10 days into the new year to spoil things for me? I am going to disallow ANY more bad crap on my birthday/in the 8 days prior to my birthday. Whatever the bad crap is the new year has to bring, it can wait until January 10th, darnit all! I don't care if I have to lock myself in a closet until January 10th and tell the kids they must fend for themselves until then, NO BAD CRAP BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY!!!!! (Would't it be great if that was my rule, and my birthday was like in August, and the universe listened to me and said to itself, "Oh, wait, Tonbijou said no bad crap can come her way this year until after her birthday... on August 31st...." What that would probably mean is instead of spacing all the bad crap out over time from January 10th until August 31st, every day from August 31st until December 31st would SUCK! I'm sure it wouldn't mean that there would be no bad crap, and then from my birthday on, it would just be the pro-rated amount of bad crap from August 31-December 31, rather it would be a full year's worth of bad crap crammed into 4 months. Does it ever worry you that I actually think about such things? Surely I can't be the only one. I'm just the only one with enough stupidity/moxy/gumption to admit/post it on the web.)

Now that Tonbijou has totally rained on your holiday parade, if you are one of the fortunate few, happily partnered off with all the time and money in the world to provide your friends, family and loved ones with whatever their hearts desire, I am happy for you. I do not begrudge you any of it. Savor it--and may you always be so fortunate. However, sometimes, life has a way of kicking us in the dirt when we least want it/expect it/can afford it. Again--SAVOR IT. For the rest of us who are not happily partnered or having all the time and money in the world, you are by no means alone. Not that this makes you feel any better, and it certainly doesn't help you pay your bills or buy presents, but your boat is by no means empty--there are countless others who are feeling the same way. If Christmas is the time for miracles, then I ask/pray for a Christmas miracle for us all to lighten our loads and bring joy into our hearts, and give us somebody to kiss, for keeps, under the mistletoe. With that, I bid you adieu.

December 8, 2009

Good day to all of my little darlings out there reading this. (Someone IS reading this, right??? If not, that's okay, because it's at least therapy for me that doesn't require a co-pay. I tell you what was good therapy--fencing. Now THAT was actually GREAT therapy. I can't tell you how many times after a bad day at work, or a particularly stressful weekend of the bubbies plucking my last nerve I'd go for a lesson and my coach would knowingly comment, "You don't want a lesson today, do you? You just want to fight, right?" How right he was. I just wanted to fight--it didn't matter if I beat or was beaten--I just needed to get it out of my system. And now, pansy ass Tonbijou has to have a stupid wrist injury (from fighting) and fragile bones so combat sports are ill advised. What a pansy wuss! Thus, I have to turn to you, my dear and gentle readers, for my much needed, no-copay therapy. Hey, there is nothing fragile about these 108 pounds. Never mind I cracked ribs leaning against the seat cushion in my car over the summer--I am NOT as delicate as all that--okay, well, kinda sort of maybe I am..... but what I lack in mass, I make up for in attitude and Pit Viper will attest, I am a LOT of attitude. I'm like the equivalent of a sumo wrestler in attitude and scrappy spunk. Remember, my pet name at the fencing school was Ninja Pixie Bitch. Sorry Bambi, I know you said never to tell anybody that, but I think it's kinda cute.)

I tell you what--last night I was the laziest of lazies. I did manage to get out to the store and buy some milk, but that was about the extent of my efforts. I was not feeling well as the night before, I tried to commit slow and ineffective suicide by filling the house full of smoke and then inhaling it as I tried to get the acrid smoke/flames to go UP the chimney instead of into the family room. Actually--if it wasn't intentional, then it's not suicide, it's just death by smoke inhalation and it sucked to be me, right? Well, that said, or rather written, there was a HORRIBLE downdraft in the chimney and the flames, ergo, the smoke that accompanies said flames, decided NOT to snake their way up the chimney but rather to flicker and spill out into the family room. (Yes, the flue was open, how dare you ask such a stupid question--do you REALLY think I'm THAT dumb???)

Now, for those of you with the luxury of a gas fireplace, wood that is not fully burned to nothing but ashes STINKS. It has a rather noisome odor to it that when yo walk in the house, it is an affront to your senses. I am almost sure it's more a result of a partially burned firestarter log--but regardless, IT STINKS. So, I got to come home to that mellifluous scent (ha!) and would HAVE to light a fire to get that gawd awful smell gone. I was worried, however, that I'd have the same problem again and then there'd be this late breaking news flash that idiot mother kills herself and three children by smoke inhalation. If that happened, you'd never know it was me and you'd just think Tonbijou got a life and stopped writing. Well, you're not that lucky--at least not today.

So, while out to get milk, Target had fire starter logs on clearance. (Isn't it great that you can now get milk at Target? Thank the powers that be who decided on that strategic move.) Upon returning to our stinky domicile, I promptly proceeded to start a fire and yes, success--the flames, ergo, the smoke that accomopanies said flames, went UP the chimney and not out into the family room to kill us slowly.

Being ashamed of being a total, lazy slug, and being tired of having a box in the house with a Christmas tree in it, I opened the new tree for $35 from Walmart. (Wouldn't you sometimes rather chew off your right arm that intentionally go to Walmart--during crazy, mad holiday shopping? So would I, but sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do because I REFUSE to spend $199 on a tiny, fake Christmas tree--it's still made in China, and it's probably still made at the same manufacturing plant exploiting underpaid, underaged workers as where I'd buy the tree for $35 anyway....) For a sense of relativity, you could fit 4 of these $35 tree boxes into the other tree box of the tree we usually put up. We've also got about 4 times more ornaments/poinsettias than will fit on this tree. The boys were commenting, "Wow, that's a tiny tree...." and I pointed out to them the need to actually be able to walk into the room--minor detail, I know. Karly replied, "Well, if we use the big tree, you can just climb over the sofa to get in here...." Yes, we COULD, but no, we WON'T.

My eyes, nose and throat have still not recovered from the acrid smoke from the night before, and all I did was curl up on the sofa under a blankie and read about the cult worship of the Virgin Mary in the 5th century and how it threatened civilization. (No, I'm not joking. Do you ever wonder to yourself, "Is she serious or full of B.S.????" That's what people think when they see my wrist in a brace and ask how it happened--"Carpal tunnel?" they ask, and I say, "No, sword fighting injury...." and they look at all 108 pounds of me and think I'm full of crap. That's almost as hard to believe as cracking ribs leaning against a seat cushion, isn't it?) I had to leave the flue open over night although the flames had died, as the smoldering embers will stink up the house also and I can't stand a stinky house. (Really, I don't know many people, if you polled a random sampling off the street, who would actually LIKE living in a stinky house. I'm sure many do--and maybe just don't realize it because they are used to it, but given a choice, nobody in his/her right mind would say they would like a stinky house.)



On a different note, as it's nippy cold outside, I decided to wear my casual fur coat in to work today. (I have the casual one, the dressy one, and the arctic sub-zero one.) The gal at the parking garage entry gate petted my arm on the way in. On the elevator ride up to the 18th floor, a coworker started to pet my arm and I told her she HAD to check out Ebay--and you know what she's going to start doing on her lunch breaks--for sure. The fabulous misadventures of Tonbijou wil undoubtedly continue tonight. Yes, I will light a fire. No, I will not die of smoke inhalation as the flames, ergo, the smoke that accompanies them, will go UP the chimney, and gawd willing, we'll get the decorations on the tree. With this latest, wildly exciting update, I leave you all to your own devices. TTFN dahlinks.

December 7, 2009

Hello my dear and gentle readers. Can we talk--OMG WTF kind of weekend was this?????? Okay, I officially decided that I don't feel like standing on the roof in the freezing, cold rain hanging $&(#*((#@@@ holiday lights this year, as then it means I've got to be out in the freezing cold of January, taking down the $&(#*((#@@@ holiday lights. I also decided I didn't want to put out the deer, or the trees, and instead, much to the chagrin of the neighbors that like to drive past my house, but to the great pleasure of the neighbors immediately in front of my house and on the side of my house, considering they don't need to go to sleep with sunglasses on (truthfully speaking though, I did always cut off the lights when I went to bed--I couldn't afford the electric bill otherwise) they are surely happy that I'm toning it down this year. It's as much a byproduct of my ball gown and time displacement theory--the more time I spend decorating is the less time I have to sew the gown. Of course, that is a downer for the chickeebabies, but in February, when I'm done with the dress and not sewing on it sitting on the bed in my apartment/hotel room in the hours just before the ball, I'll be glad that I didn't put up the lights. The monkeys, however, were dismayed, as they dragged it all out of the shed, it sat on the porch for a week, and then I said, "Oopsie takeback mommy's too lazy this year...." As we have a new sectional sofa in the family room, I had to get a smaller tree as the one we have is rather full--and considering how far out the sectional part of the sectional sofa sits, relative to how far out the tree would sit, you'd have to crawl over the furniture to get into the family room.

I decided to opt for a smaller tree--and let me tell you, what would you expect for $35 from Walmart? Yes--a petite tree indeed! Now, I am intentionally espousing the Russian less is more concept. In Russia, they serve food on small plates--that way, the meager amount of food on the plate looks like it's a lot of food. The same amount of food on a bigger plate makes it look like you're on a diet. Well, carry that image over to Christmas trees--the bigger the tree, the more presents under it you need to make it look like you/your kids weren't on Santa's naughty list. The smaller the tree, just like a smaller plate, will make fewer presents look more generous than they otherwise would appear when placed under a ganja ginormous tree. Come on--work with me here. I can't possibly be the only one wondering how in the world to do more with less and still give the chickeebabies a nice Christmas.

Mind you, none of this has to do with my WTF weekend. You can read about Friday's WTF was mommy thinking fiasco as she missed the first half of Fantastic Mr. Fox so that she could read about chemical/biological warfare as used by ancient civilizations--surely top on everybody's reading list, no? So Saturday, I lock myself in the house after my little man leaves me and I sew and sew and sew and sew and sew and sew..... If it wasn't for Ha's wedding, I would have not set foot outside the entire day/evening. I was looking atrocious--for what reason would I have to bother with hair/makeup--none. I was in jeans and an old, super clearance gym shirt--hey, it was just me and my dress form--who doesn't have a hea