The Ways We Belong Together

The other day (7/20 to be exact) Ruben and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary. As a present, my parents gave us money to go out to dinner so, being that every dollar I get these days goes to something responsible, I forced us to enjoy the money and go out. We went to the Apple Farm in San Luis Obispo. Neither of us had been there in our adult life so it seemed like a nice choice. Normally, during dinner, we would casually talk about our days until an uncomfortable silence would set in and then, for the rest of the evening we would be pulling teeth from one another to get conversation going again. That night, that was not a problem.
Part way through dinner, we were talking about pet owning and Ruben said that I was a bad pet owner. I said, “Look who’s talking!” – he has a ferret that he never plays with.
“Ferrets are supposed to be loving and cuddly”
and he said, “So. Are. You”.
Way to be mean on a nice night out! Were we not supposed to be celebrating our love for one another? I swear!

That’s about when I swatted his forehead with a spoon covered in vanilla ice cream.

I think it was the best date we’ve been on in a long time.

Scott Weiland's Big Mouth

So, the fair is here. And, unlike last year where I was drooling over every entertainer that had signed on, there were very few that I wanted to see. Ruben got tickets to STP which of course rocked my world because, you never know how long Scott Weiland is going to last – I mean, tomorrow he could be in jail, or in rehab, or in another band. We held our breath for 6 weeks as we waited to see if Scott would still be around for the show and then, Saturday rolled around and with babysitter all set, we got to the show.

There is something so phenomenal about these rocker/drug addicts! I mean, I am in love! They get on stage and sing and have those outfits (costumes) and I sit there and wonder why I didn’t keep on drumming until I met one of my own and married him.

So, there they are – on stage – rockin my world and Scott Weiland opens his mouth to speak. “It smells like cow shit here.”
Ok, Jackass, thanks, we can all smell it.

“I happen to like the smell of cow shit because it reminds me of growing up in Ohio, where I used to ride horses and party in the barn and that’s where I had my first orgy”
Ok, seriously? Either my crotch is full of spider-webs or that was inappropriate. Just shut up, queue the next song and let’s get back to rocking.

So, a few more songs play, he makes a comment about how Paso would be kind of cool if it didn’t smell like cow shit, goes back to playing and then…
“I want to apologize for being late, this evening. I am sorry. I was buying furniture at a liquidation sale and I got delayed. Truly. So, I am sorry”
What the hell, dude? We were all just rocking out to Plush, we don’t need your reasoning. We don’t even need an apology because none of us realized you were late to the stage – but now? Now you seem like a pretentious asshole which is just not as sexy as you were 30 minutes ago when you hit the stage.

Photo by Ms. Jesseca Meyer - when she has a site, I'll tell you all about it because she rocks everything from family portraits to weddings to concerts and I adore her!

I’m boredom emailing people – it’s the office equivalent of drunk dialing… Some one save me!

Bump in the Night

When a sound comes crashing through the night and wakes me, I fully expect my husband to jump to his feet with a bat in hand and go scan the house, in hunt of the culprit and beat it to a pulp, assuming it isn’t one of the kids or pets.

This is never the case. Instead it goes a little more like this:


I startle awake and sink lower into the covers trying to think of what I had worn to bed and what could be making that noise at the same time. I whisper to my husband, “did you hear that?”
He of course replies that he did. I then get a bit impatient with him, or is that just the immediacy I feel from the terror triggering a need to pee. “well…are you going to go see what it was?”
He rolls over, sniffles a few times and huffs, “Why don’t you go look?”

Um hello?!? Because I’m supposed to be the wife in the relationship!!! “Please go look, I’m in my panties and a t-shirt, I don’t want to die in my panties and a t-shirt”
“Oh, so you are going to send me to die in my underwear?”
“Just go look – you have all those weapons”
I start to get whiny and beggy but I know, it will be me. He pushes me out of the bed and I stumble around in the dark. I sneak around the house, peek out the slider into the back yard and out the bay window in the front and then, I turn on all the lights I can. I wait a few minutes before moving, check in on the kids, open and close the front door, lock it again, and then finally turn off all the lights, go pee, and crawl back to bed.

“well?” He asks.

“Nothing” I sigh…

Five minutes later, it happens again and I lay in bed wide-eyed, waiting for him to get up.
He never does…
That’s my night in shining armor for you.

Ewww--That Smell

I was out camping this weekend and after the children went to sleep, we all sat around the campfire and stared off. We would chit chat about this and that and I even was able to educate my father on exactly what a glory hole is (although I would have much rather had him look it up) but the conversation seemed to die and the wind was howling so I retreated to the tent.

It was within minutes of my escape that I could hear the conversation move to passing gas and then, I heard something I would have never, in my wildest dreams, been able to make up. It went sort of like this:


Sister: sometimes my burps can compete with Denver’s farts

Dad: oh I know, your mom can be terrible

Sister: No really, like I burp and the smell in my mouth is so foul that it has to be worse than any fart I have ever done

Me from the tent: That is just wrong

Sister: there was this one time when I went to get revenge on Tyler so I walked up and burped in his face and just the smell of all those sulfides coming out of my mouth almost made ME throw up. Tyler’s eyes watered. I was almost embarrassed.


Makes me really glad she wasn’t sleeping in the same tent I was!

Bathroom Confessions

I have a confession: everyday, for a minimum of 20 minutes, I try to hide from my family in the bathroom. It is the one place that I think I can escape and should deserve full privacy so, somewhere between putting dinner together and doing the dishes, I sneak away and relax.

I’ve been doing this since I was a young kid and would have to go to the bathroom conveniently when the dishes needed done and I knew if I spent enough time in there, when I got out, they would be done. I would read ranger rick and highlights magazines and zone out for a while. In a weird way, it was my favorite part of the day…


Now that I am a grown-up, (sort of) I still seek an escape with a book or magazine into the bathroom and can just sit there for as long as the kids will let me. My husband has walked in several times and stated that with the amount of time I am in the bathroom, I must be pooping far more than is healthy. I have told him time and again that I am not actually *going* to the bathroom but he does not seem to understand. I wonder if I am at the beginning stages of this woman

I may be but if I am, at least I know I am happy there…

Suck a Doofus!

A little email correspondence that hopefully some of you will find humorous…someone? Anyone?


From: A
Sent: Friday, June 06, 2008 8:56 AM
To: G
Subject: Suck a doofus!

I realized right after I talked about national donut day how that sounds coming out of the office fat girl’s mouth… I swear, I’m not that huge of a heifer.


From: G
Sent: Friday, June 06, 2008 8:59 AM
To: A
Subject: RE: Suck a doofus!

You shut your mouth!! You are NOT the office fat girl, get real!! Um hello I love food more than shopping, napping, indoor sports, pretty much everything. Food is my friend. I’m so hungover that donuts sound absolutely delicious, why the hell didn’t sandy bring in anything today LOL!!!


From: A
Sent: Friday, June 06, 2008 9:14 AM
To: G
Subject: RE: Suck a doofus!

I just noticed I wrote “suck a doofus”, not “such a doofus”. Yep, I think that confirms it!

A


From: G
Sent: Friday, June 06, 2008 9:15 AM
To: A
Subject: RE: Suck a doofus!

i think that may be my new favorite insult….’suck a doofus!’
when is egg mcmuffin day, I’m totally down for that too!


From: A
Sent: Friday, June 06, 2008 10:12 AM
To: G
Subject: RE: Suck a doofus!

I like it!

Sadly, I don’t think there is an egg mcmuffin day, which sucks because that is the ULTIMATE hangover breakfast.

I think we should make one. And spread the word. Maybe, Mc Donald’s could pay us for the advertisement. And we could be rich and quit…
Ah, who am I kidding, We should just go stuff our pie holes with Greasy, gooey, delicious egg mcmuffins and shout “suck a doofus!” at anyone who looks at us the wrong way.

A

Kids these days...

You know, sometimes, I am fairly certain that my children are fully capable of transforming into Goblins straight out of the movie
Labyrinth…