Of budgets and dogs.

Doing the budget makes me sad. You have a couple lines where you have money coming in, and hundreds where all the money went right back out. They say that keeping a budget helps you save. Is it because you get tired of writing every damn expense down so you say screw it?

We safely made it through the whole ordeal without the dog destroying a single receipt, though, so that was an accomplishment.

Speaking of my dog, she is not sitting in my lap, trying to distract me from the task at hand. She reminds me of the triceratops that I used to draw in elementary school when we learned about dinosaurs. All those dinosaurs kind of looked like dogs anyway at that age, and everything I drew had a big smiley face. She's grinning up at me, hoping to charm me into giving her some attention and really reminds me of a bad kid's drawing.

She obviously distracted me on some level, but not on the one she was hoping.

My evening reading before bed had me rolling with laughter. I highly recommend you check out You Suck at Craigslist when you need a reminder that common sense and IQ really were upgrades that not everyone received.

Beauty

Beauty isn't everything. But at that same time, it can be pretty important. You can't deny that beautiful people have an edge. And as much as I enjoy being a laid back girl, I do realize that I enjoy the comforts afforded to those who are beautiful. As such, I try to maintain the God-given beauty that was gifted to me.

In reality, I think that's mostly a girl thing. We want to maintain the looks we have for as long as we can. We use anti-aging this and that, we find the perfect outfit, we practice a good hairdo for our changing styles... we're not about to just hop out of bed and "wing it."

So the other night I used the at-home chemical peel, an AHA peel. Then I applied the retinol cream. Of course I had to top that off with a moisturizer to calm some of the fire that I'd just started in the cells of my skin. I like to think they were shocked into a state of actually spinning backwards fast enough to stop aging. Done regularly enough that should actually stop my face from aging, right? I can look late-twenty to early-thirty something for the rest of my life. (Yeah right!) As long as I don't look like I'm aging prematurely, I guess we'll call it even.

I try to get into working out. I try regularly to get into working out, but I can never stick with liking it (aka, gritting my teeth through it) long enough to make much impact. I love to eat healthy, except for my sweet tooth. I've had protein smoothies for breakfast, fruits and veggies without meat for dinner. My downfall is that I don't cook, though, so I have to rely on my beer belly husband for sustenance. Maybe one day I'll be able to move past the one-woman show of face wash and cream to keep my youthful appearance and stick with one of the many other options available.

In the mean time, I'll do my favorite beauty regimen of all... beauty sleep!

Egos

I really can't stand when people's egos get in the way of a good thing. Sometimes a person's vision can be so consumed with their own image that they fail to see what's really important. I really can't stand that. It's a detrimental thing, and it usually affects more than just that person because they feed their ego by crushing others. I'm for the underdog, so that doesn't go over so well in my book.

Brownie bombshell

Ok, yeah yeah, it's called cake days. And I'm cupcake. I got it, I'm basically a bakery whore. Easy to please, just shove some sugar in my mouth and I'll be happy. But seriously, we have to talk about these brownies. I will get the recipe if I have to hold that poor woman hostage or kidnap her children in the process.

So this woman brings me brownies at work. Belated birthday sentiment. Possibly she's an obsessive late night baker like in Grey's Anatomy. Who really cares. I was given brownies. That's one of those shiny silver lining moments in life.

Slightly before a lunch meeting, I'm already starving. The brownies are sitting behind my desk, but I can tell they are beckoning me quietly, like sugar-laced Sirens. I begin to imagine that I smell them, and finally I can't take it anymore. I scrounge up a knife, do the good coworkerly thing and offer the other girl that she can have a little if she's hungry too. I eat my little piece and fall straight down the rabbit hole.

I'm hooked. The brownies might just as well have been laced with crack. There is no going back now. I will never again be able to eat a cheap grocery store brownie. This is what heaven would taste like. As per Twitter, I would ask for these brownies to be my last meal before my execution, and then request that my execution was conducted by burying me alive in more of these brownies. Of course, I would eat my way to freedom, and the death that followed would probably suck, but I would have gorged on my weight in brownies at that point and would cease to care. I would leave this world in ecstasy.

My husband was allowed to try a little of the brownies when they came home with me tonight. He is the typical laid back, understated guy who rarely shows excitement over everyday things. I knew exactly when he tried the brownies though. He came running out from the kitchen yelling "Oh my GODDD!" He then ran up to me and planted a HUGE kiss on my mouth and asked "Where did you get those?!?!" I believe his explanation for how good they were involved learning a new yoga move that allowed him to fellate himself to remove the brownies from his member, even if he snapped his neck in the process. Obviously, we're a well-matched couple if we both relay how good something is by the way in which we would lay down our lives to obtain more of it. Morbid, maybe, but descriptive, most definitely.

So yes, I will hunt down this woman and obtain the recipe if it's the last thing I do. I will leave the recipe in my will to whoever is worthy enough to receive its legacy. Hell, if I really do die before I polish off the remaining batch, I'll leave the brownies themselves in my will. It will be the most anticipated item on the list. I will probably tell my (hypothetical) children about these brownies one day. Cake my ass, I'll take these brownies all day every day.



**The "crack" hyperlink is worth the click-- classic Dave Chappelle. Also, my husband wishes that everyone understand that a teeny bit of embellishment might have occurred to his description of the quality of the aforementioned brownies.

Skeeters

The skeeters have DEVOURED my legs. We somehow got a couple in our bedroom that waited until we fell asleep, then chomped up my legs. I'm sure they're quite obese now. I can only imagine how attractive that must have looked at work today as I scratched my ankle-- first politely, through the dress pants. But when that wasn't effective enough, I just pulled the leg up a little and scratched bare ankle until I was sure I would just rake off every layer of skin I had left.

Adding insanity to insult, I walked tonight with hubby at dusk. He frustrated me beyond belief and I was ready to kill him. I needed to walk off some steam, and I'm sure he was hoping that by the time we got back from walking, I would have partially forgotten about his stupidity. It worked somewhat. I sprayed down with repellant, but we'll see tomorrow if it actually worked.

AC is cooling nicely, making me eager to slink into bed. G'night!

Out late on a school night

I felt like a kid again tonight. We went out to dinner tonight and decided to treat ourselves to ice cream for dessert on our way home. We endured a particularly excruciating tirade from my in-laws about politics. Meanwhile, I day dreamed of having a gun or other device to end my life so the torture would end. Seriously, at that point I would have signed up for some Chinese water torture followed by the bamboo stake manicure.

So anyway, we get ice cream at the little neighborhood place that is usually just visited by the elderly who want to "splurge" or the young and bratty. Lo and behold, my parents' old neighbors (who are old as in no-longer living next door and also elderly) were there eating ice cream with their buds. The man always made me a little uncomfortable, so we dodged them and finished our ice cream where we were least likely to get noticed. I felt like that sneaky teenager again, hoping we didn't get busted by the neighbors as we snuck in after curfew... or snuck out for more privacy for a long drawn-out goodnight. Ah memories.

Twitter & Sleep

I joined twitter last night, so we'll try that out. Follow me if you'd like!


Sometimes plans fall through and provide an unexpected but delightful opportunity to sleep in. And sleep in I did. No worries, no moments of anxiety as I remembered what I was supposed to be doing... the time had been set aside, so when the plans fell through last night, I went to sleep knowing there was nothing that I was forgetting to do. Oh, and my bed has never felt so comfortable!

I think today might be a lazy movie day. Why not? I mean, I have a free and open schedule, so I'll really live it up with a whole lotta nothin'!


And in other news, if anyone is reading me... please feel free to comment or link exchange! God knows no woman is an island!

Strange ads

Today, I suddenly have Trojan ads all over my blog. Is "ape shit" the key word needed to pull them in?

Jerky junkie

My husband got elk jerky a couple weeks ago. He opened it up tonight and our 15 lb poodle went ape shit over it. I'm sure in a past life when she ran wild with all the other rabid carnivorous poodles in their large poodle pack, she probably took down the wild elk and devoured it in one sitting. However, after aggressive domestication over the centuries, she wouldn't even know what to do with a really large field, much less a real live elk. But that doesn't mean we won't mess with her by opening and closing the package as she falls asleep just to watch her go nuts. It's not cruel, we're just refining her instincts.

New attitude

The weekend was good for me. Today was refreshing for a Monday. While the weekend flew by, I crammed a little goodness into the last little bit of it and was able to feel rested and calmed by it by the time my alarm squawked this morning.

Today was actually a good Monday. I wouldn't have always believed such a thing could exist. Plus you cannot exactly beat how I was greeted when I got home from work today. Kitchen was cleaner than when I left this morning. The mysterious garbage disposal funk was simmering away after being boiled. Hubby had music on and was in a pretty happy mood. Going totally old school back to the college dorm days, we listened to music while lying on the floor. We laughed, we talked, we made out, life is good. Sometimes those unexpected little moments are the ones you wouldn't trade for the world. We were eventually caught by the dog when I thought it would be fun to throw her chew toy against the wall to see if it was bouncy rubber or dense rubber. It was dense rubber, but she apparently recognized the noise and ran over to tackle us. Now I think we might get to listen to rain as we sleep. This is the kind of thing that makes your day. Yay for a good Monday.

You have been denied.

Fail. Dumbass. You are not worthy. You have been denied.

I may need some fine motor skills re-training because I seem to be exceptionally good at dropping my birth control pills. Usually it is while I'm driving and fumbling around in my purse to find the pack, pop out the pill and take it all with just one hand. I'll drop it back into my purse somehow, and then I have to feel my way through all the crap in there to find that itty bitty little pill. Don't worry, though, I'm a safe driver as I do this. I taught myself to drive with one hand at 16. Somehow I felt that was a very important life skill.

Today was worse, though. Much worse. I actually remembered to take it before I left work. I pulled the pack out of purse and popped the pill out over my desk. It was like skipping stones over a calm lake. It skipped lightly over the shiny top of my desk and right down the small little crack between the 8000 lb desk and the wall. I just stared... in disbelief. It did not. It could not. How could it have? But oh yes, it did. I attempted to move the desk, but there was no way in hell I could even get it to budge. I considered recruiting a coworker, but decided that when I peeped down that crack and saw the filth, they would be sure that I had swapped my Pill with something I got off the street if I was still willing to take it. I made a few quick calculations in my head, and popped tomorrow's pill out. I'll have to figure a way to relabel so I remember when I've taken and when I haven't now, but I'm covered for today. I was never very good at math, but you seem to graduate a few levels in math skills once you have to start figuring out the pill and how to save your ass from getting pregs.

I called my husband once I actually got out of the building. I thought this seemed like a defining moment in my life to illustrate the bizarre clumsy capabilities that only I seem to have. He didn't see the humor. Whatever. I'm still marveling at the masterful grasp of uncoordination that I demonstrated today.

Confrontation

Sometimes your mind goes places where you wish it didn't because it crosses the line, even in thought form. For instance, cancer is one of those things. You don't make a snappy comeback at somebody and tell them that they caused your cancer (ESPECIALLY if you don't have cancer, that's just disrespectful to all who do!) because you figure that inevitably it'll happen since it's rampant around here.

I feel guilty for those thoughts sometimes. I have been known to say them even, under my breath, just to where the person can't hear me but asks what I said. Of course I don't repeat it. But it makes you feel better momentarily to have just gone there. I've also done that in angry emails back to idiots. You type it out, hitting those keys as angrily as you can, like yelling through your fingertips, read it, let out a big deep angry vindicated breath, and watch that backspace button wipe it all away.

I'm bad at confrontation in real life, but I pretty well kick ass at it in my own mind. Because in my own mind, nobody's feelings get hurt by the cruel things I want to say. Nobody has a snappier comment or puts me in my place (as if I could ever have a place to be put in!). Nobody makes it personal and hurts me. In real life, I learned from the days of Barbies and Truth or Dare that you weren't going to like the outcome unless you played both parts. I also learned about that time about passive-aggressiveness. Namely, my mom would undermine my attempts at being the cool Barbie because it made her the less-cool barbie and would spoil my fun. Low. Ok, show and tell time on childhood scars is over.

So bottom line, if I don't like you, you'll probably know it but won't quite know why. I won't overtly tell you off usually or try to confront you to make things better. Things will probably never recover after we face off. I'll resent you to the end of your days. I never learned how to deal with confrontation even a tiny little bit.

Wow, really I will find a happy warm and fuzzy to share soon. Life's just been a bit on that downward trend the past few weeks. Drama, hrmph.

Girl talk

I'll let you boys in on a little secret. You ever wonder how girls can always find something to talk about? It is because all but the thinnest girls can fall back on discussing their weight. Weight gain, desire to lose weight, diets, exercises, tips, and tricks. I, however, stand there awkwardly. I'm a thin girl. You try to contribute to that conversation when you have obviously never struggled with the number on the scale, and you'll get your eyes clawed out. Usually, I also try to stand very still because as their frustration mounts, it's not uncommon for the conversation to then turn angrily to my bitchiness for having inherited some great genes. *sigh* So now you know. Guys, steer clear if you see the ladies sizing each other up in the conversation. Come back later after they're worn out and a little defeated, then hit 'em up with a good compliment. Oh, or just rescue the scared thin girl-- she'll be grateful, and it will fuel the conversation for another 10 minutes.

Piss ant

I know it's bad to think mean thoughts about other people when they piss you off, but screw it, sometimes that's all that keeps you on the right side of the law.

This week has been national piss me off week, I think. I have referred to somebody in my life as the Pseudo-Douche. I literally went on a yelling rant to friends to avoid a restraining order from confronting the one who pissed me off. I woke up an hour late for work. I was almost crunched by a guy squealing out of his driveway in reverse. ........... I really don't have anger issues, I promise, but my gosh people, back up off me!

Hm, I'm hungry, so I'm gonna go. Weekends are much more mellow. I'm looking forward to it!

Sucked in

So I'm still finishing off my light summer vacay book. I'm very conflicted about it. I can't decide if the writer sucks at taking a story to the climactic point and beyond, or if she gambled and won with the guess that people would continue reading pointless chapter after pointless chapter on the assumption that eventually she would tie it all together. Honestly, I'm more focused on this aspect of the book than on the plot itself, since you know, there isn't one and all. Sequence, point of view, plot... all these traditional aspects of classic writing were abandoned completely. And not in an edgy post-mod kind of way either. Like in a sloppy, jotted on napkins because you needed the rent money, don't give a crap kind of way. Further proof to me that the people who write the glowing reviews must only read one chapter.

Now that I sound like a crotchety old fart with an axe to grind, I'll soothe my anger by deleting things from the DVR and preparing for work tomorrow.

P.S. People who take advantage of the elderly should be shot. A coworker of mine told his mom never to make a big purchase without double checking it with the family first to make sure she wasn't talked into anything stupid. Wonder how I can convince my parents to do that in a few years without getting disowned for making it seem like my judgment is better than theirs. Hm...

Venom

Spit fire and vinegar. I've had a lot of venom in my veins this week. I think it's something about the post-vacation blues. No housekeeper preparing for my arrival at home. The mess we left in the tornadic wake of packing a week of clothing into a carry-on bag was still waiting when I got home. The pile for goodwill, the stack of crap to sell on craigslist, the funk in our garbage disposal... all still there. They seem smug, gloating that they stood their ground and waited me out. I came back to them.

The worst was the to-do lists. To leave for vacation, I put in some serious hours at work, which meant that everything other than food and shelter necessities went by the wayside in my home life. Of course much of the time at home before I crashed into bed to do it all again the next day was spent feeling guilty and indignant with myself about how I needed to stop all that and find a way to manage things via miraculous intervention so I could always keep it to 8 hrs a day.


In other news, I just caught myself singing along to half a line of that Miley Cyrus song. Don't judge me. I stopped as soon as I realized it! My husband then accidentally flipped to the reggae-sung-by-white-boys channel. Between the two, I'd go with Miley.

Because husband questioned my reasons, profuse hyperlinking can be attributed to Tony's teachings. As if you really had to ask.

Teetering on the edge.

I think Dooce would be proud...

I was a little pissy tonight, thoroughly equal opportunity about it at least, and may have gone a little over the edge with what I told my husband. Somehow I made a reference to "tampon rock" and then made a pissy comment to myself about hating that term.

My husband then proceeded to direct my wrath back over to him. He then said, "some people would call your behavior bitchy, but I would just call it PRINCESSSSSSSS!!!"

I told him that if he wasn't careful, I would fashion my kleenex into a tampon and shove it up his urethra.... or I could use one of our kitchen knives to fashion a vaginal opening for it in his taint.

Did I go too far? Seeing it in black & white, I would definitely say yes. Do I give myself redemption points for laughing as I said it so he didn't enter the witness protection program? You bet. I consider it just a slight overreaction at that point.

I will remember to be grateful for my husband tonight because he gets my warped, twisted sense of humor and laughs right along with me on this crazy rollercoaster we signed onto together.

Home sweet home

Sorry, I've been on vacation.  I think I must be a homebody.  I couldn't get a good night sleep, my body was out of whack the whole time, I was starving most of the trip, I got car sick, and I reached that breaking point of being so exhausted that I could cry about 5 days in.  Oh yes, and the most brutal kicker of all for any woman... I gained 8 lbs in that one week of vacation, while my husband lost 2.  You can all be grateful that you don't live in a 5 mile radius of my house when I found that ugly little truth.

As soon as I got home, my body was much happier, though.  No more car sickness, normal levels of hunger, restful nights of sleep, and able to handle stress again.  And of course, I started working out to knock back those 8 ugly new buddies of mine.  There will be no pooch to my tummy and no thunder for my thighs!

Seize the day

Sometimes you just have to seize the moments. You have to recognize the opportunities as they come. The chance to see a legend perform in concert. To make the most of a trip that you'll probably only make once.

The true challenge is to seize every moment. Not to make each minute of your life something outrageous and spectacular, but to enjoy every last drop out of every single day. If things are good or bad, it's all temporary. Enjoy it for what it is and move on.

If I master this, I'll be sure to let you know how to do it.

Get over it

For me, this is easier said than done. My mind never learned how to let go of things. I hold onto it like a rabid pit bull with a bone. Logically I know that it's foolish and is detrimental to me (and often to my husband), but emotionally I can't force myself to forget it.

I think that sometimes God sends you messages in a way that only you notice when He wants to keep it low key. Somebody REALLY frustrated me today and I couldn't let it go, and within an hour a friend told me about a philosophy she learned that reminds you that whatever somebody does or says about you is really all about them and not anything to do about you. I know this message is meant to remind me to work harder at changing this. I also know that each time that memory riles me up, I'll also remember the message and force myself to simmer.

We are all a work in progress. We'd all be a little kinder to ourselves if we could remember that.

The invasion

I'm certainly not a conspiracy nut, but lately I have had no choice but to believe in one. The conspiracy of the bugs. They are out to get me and I know it. Each type is taking its turn attacking me in numbers. First came the cockroach scout, checking out the premises. He discovered that I seemed defenseless and required cavalry backup from my husband to actually kill him. Then it was the mosquitoes. When they backed off, it was the fruit flies. They finally died off, and it became those vicious flying insects that attacked me whenever I went through the garage to my car. There was a brief attempt by a spider, but being unable to fly and being my most hated arch-enemy, he was killed immediately upon beginning his mission. Now, I'm being dive-bombed by 2 stray flies that flew in the door as we were closing it. They are ignoring my husband and the dog... just zooming at my head. And no, not in the Pigpen kind of way either. Just buzzing past my ears and the top of my head to make sure I know they're after me.

I may be creeped out and experience some anxiety from their attacks, but mark my words, they will not win. We do not negotiate with terrorists, and I would consider these bugs the most domestic of all domestic terrorists. Never back down, never surrender.

A lil' bit more

It's crazy hot. The fan isn't circulating enough cool to make it tolerable anymore. I'll have to cool things off to be able to fall asleep tonight. I love sleeping when it's a little chilly in the room as long as it doesn't break the bank to cool it off!

I love deleting things off our DVR. It's a feeling of accomplishment to see that percentage go down. See the list of things to be recorded shrink. Summer is especially nice. It makes it so easy to not watch too much TV!

I also feel so accomplished right now because I made lunches for this upcoming week. I usually take the frozen lunches, which are great in a pinch, but they have a lot of sodium. We really don't use any salt when we cook, so I want to see if I can cut out the pre-packaged stuff. It will be healthier and keep my salt intake down. I like eating healthy, but I tend to be lazy in the kitchen, so I'm especially proud that I manage that!

Props

So I was fighting a pity party all day today, so I thought I'd try to be positive about a couple little bright spots from today.

My puppy is adorable. My husband is understanding and loving and will force me to laugh when I'm pouting. He may not follow instructions and requests very well, and he may forget when things are due, but we're staying positive here.

Chick-fil-a. They're great, aren't they? I was dying to steal the lady who took my order for our own business. She was just so sweet and cheerful! I wish I'd had the guts.

Old Navy. For 14 days after your purchase, they'll price adjust in your favor if the items go on sale. We completely scored on summer clothes for our upcoming vacay-- the weekend we went, all men's clothes were 1/2 off. We came back this weekend to exchange something and saw that all women's summer clothes were 1/2 off. Showed the receipt, computer compared the prices, and they money went back onto our credit card. Sweet. Lesson learned: It's always worth asking. My hubby said it was embarrassing to even ask because "no place does that." Not so, my friend, not so.

There. See? Still lots of positive things going on in this world. The dog is letting the ceiling fan cool her belly as she dozes off. I think I'll join her. Night!

No no day

Today was most definitely NOT a cake day. The remaining bday cake in the fridge, the fact that it was Friday finally, nothing could resurrect today into a cake day. A small minute to cry on the way home from work, a chance to rant for a couple minutes to my hubby about why today sucked helped a little, but still not enough to turn it all around. There's not any one thing that I could pinpoint to explain why it all went down the tubes... it was just a nonstop stream of things.

But on to other things... I just can't get into the whole mood to mourn Michael Jackson. I just keeping thinking about his pedophile playground. I mean, I get that Thriller was great and all, but I could never get past the whole creep factor. Sorry guys, he was just always creeped me out. He was kind of a bandwagon celebrity-- popular, fell out of favor, and was supposedly just launching a comeback. Guess I just never jumped back on that bandwagon. 13 Going on 30 was good, though.

Hmm, that's all I got.

Cake Days

Cake days are good days. Sometimes they involve real cake. Those are the best, most authentic cake days. Sometimes, they're just good days. Icing on the cake of life, if you will. I'm fairly liberal with my definition of a cake day because I'm pretty optimistic... a Tigger, bouncy and hyper basically.

So today-- I woke up late for work, I wore cute clothes because we were supposed to schmooze and then we ran out of time for it, two of my coworkers became sick and I worried about them (still obviously worse for them than for me), I had two unplanned meetings, worked so nonstop that I didn't get to eat lunch, and came home to discover that the stupid flying insects that have invaded our garage are still there despite pleas to my husband to kill them all, and they still like to swarm me as a scare tactic. But do you know why today is good? There is rich, luscious, chocolate birthday cake with generous icing awaiting my hungry tummy. Life is suddenly so much sweeter. Yes, for all the punsters out there, it is literally sweeter with the cake and icing, that wasn't lost on me.