We’re kickin’ ass and takin’ names…well one name, the Economy.

What will she come up with next? I mean seriously. Mommypie is a one cell shy of an entire think-tank of scientists. Clever, witty, AND earthfriendly? She only compares to Ellen…wait.

We all know that I have a HYUGE crush on Mommypie (and what can I say, she needs me).  But lately, I’ve fallen in love with her “new baby.” Her words, not mine. It’s awesome, inventive, fun and just about as creative as it gets. I had be tampering with our local freecycle.org network that we have in town, but with no such luck. I just don’t have the time to sit and tinker with all of the responses.

Then SWAPMAMAS came along. Honestly, I am not the demographic that she’s going for. Being a twenty-something (I’m not telling! But you can figure it out), totally independent, sans children is not what a site dedicated to parents swapping out items their children are growing out of is going for. However, I support it whole-heartedly and I am here to do my best!

I am, however, about 9 months shy from being given the third best gift in the world. I’m not going to be a mom, I’m not going to be an auntie, but I get to be a god-mother! OF COURSE, I’ll have a little fairy dust in the mix! So, as I prep to become the coolest, youngest, most awesomest god-mother in the world, I will be using SwapMamas to collect things for my friend who had NO IDEA she would be turning 23 in the middle of her first pregnancy, and is scared shit-less. As every new mother is bound to be.

Give SwapMamas some love, some items and get swappin’! Everyone’s invited to an ass-kickin’ party, the host-The Economy.

Mind Puzzler…Can you figure this one out?

We’ve all heard of the mind puzzle, “You come across a dead guy hanging from a noose, with a pool of water underneath it: What happened?” You’re supposed to figure out why there’s water, why the guy is dead, and how he did it. And maybe try to figure out why you’re standing in a room with a dead guy hanging from a noose…maybe that’s the bigger question.

I have one of my own that I’d like you all to try to come up with an explanation for. Winner will get major kudos and a big, sappy post about how I loved your explanation most, and how your blog is the most fabulous in the whole world, and shit.

Now, this is a true story:
A guy and his co-worker were carpooling to work down a busy back road, to avoid using the interstate, and they came across this scene:
There is a car lying on its roof on the side of the road. A few hundred feet down the road is a large deer, unfortunately dead, by the side of the road. A big bale of hay lays scattered all around the whole scene. What happened?

Comment below for your awesome take on this exciting puzzle. Later I’ll tell you what I came up with.

If only you could say these things out loud.

Holy hell. Found this on www.someecards.com today…
It strikes just the right tone, and as always, at the most inappropriate time.

AHAHAHAHAA. Sorry for being inappropriate.

Time to figgify your puddin’

Well it’s here, the most wonderful time of the year. There were parties hosted, marshmallows roasted and caroling out in the snow did occur, I’ve heard. It really is the happiest time of the year.
In all honesty, I’m having a hard time focusing on Christmas…seeing as how I’m sitting at my desk at work and I had to leave my cozy warm car listening to Christmas songs on the radio (we have a station that plays 12 straight days of Christmas music). But, really, my heart is over flowing for the Holiday Season. It might be because it’s trying to keep my extremities warm, since it’s still near 0 degrees, but maybe it’s because of all the extra fanfare. The lights are my favorite. I love seeing houses all decorated and glowing in the night. They’re little inviting beacons that say, “Hey! You may not know your neighbors, but LOOK! They’re festive!” How can you feel grudges, well, unless your Steph and have to put up with a signing Christmas tree. I’m sure that sucks.

I wanted to share some of the highlights of my Christmas season, so far. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. I know one thing…I’ll miss waking up to the sound of bells, like I have for every morning since my parents decided to buy the Celtic CD. The first track is a bunch of cathedral bells flailing to the spirit of Christmas morning. There’s nothing that makes you feel quite at home…or out in the cold walking to church…like a bunch of bells. It always signaled that I could finally get up. I did have to wait for everyone else though, which was actually great because it gave me an excuse to jump on them while they dreampt of sugarplums and fairies.

Anyway, here’s the small pieces of joy I’ve had:

Knowing that I could turn on my Christmas music in my car because it’s been there since 2006. Christmas is the only time I use my CD player in my car, so it just sits there for 11 months waiting patiently for the season to come around again.

Buying my brother completely ridiculous gifts. And I really mean ridiculous. Like this. He saw it on TV during Thanksgiving and was joking that he totally wants that. Too bad he mentioned it, those are the BEST presents. Meanwhile, HubbyBee got him this. Awe.some.

Getting Christmas presents from my Girl Scouts. They are so cute! I totally don’t expect anything from these adorable elementary students, but they still love to shower me with joy. Apparently though, they would like me fat. Because all they bring me is chocolate, which I totally eat, and don’t share. Yep. Big Fat Troop Leader is what they’re going for.

Putting up the Christmas Tree at work. I’m not sure why this gives me pleasure, because it’s the most freakin’ hardest tree to put up in the WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD. Literally. But I love it’s leaning branches, and since no one else gives a shit wants to take my joy, that baby is all mine.

Realizing that my favorite holiday phrase is not, “Look Daddy! Teacher says: Everytime a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.” But, it is in fact, “Merry Christmas, you filthy animal.”

Those little things over the past month have really made my season. Sure there are lots of things that drive me up the wall this time of year, but really? It’s time to let it go. I really try to practice personal zen and realize that everyone deserves a little cheer. Plus, I love this season so much. And I love the cold that is strong enough to take your face off because that means it’s skiing time! I’m looking forward to the one day of year I go to church, tonight on Christmas Eve, and tomorrow when I get to give all my wacky-but delightfully fun-Christmas gifts to my unsuspecting victims family members.

Hope you and yours have a wonderful Christmas and Happy New Years. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Here’s to Eight Years of Growing Up with You

Here’s to the most tragic, most pathetic dumping session in high school history.
Here’s to the nights at the restaurant I worked at while I thought you where being my friend, but 7.75 years later I find out you were just trying to win me back.
Here’s to the Secret Kiss where it all began…again.
Here’s to graduating high school with you.
Here’s to the dorm room twin bed sharing.
Here’s to the first basement apartment.
Here’s to the sweet engagement on Peet’s Hill, after Sushi, where you made me hike in my high heels.
Here’s to our beautiful wedding on the mountain side on July 7.
Here’s to the 2,400 miles we drove on our honeymoon.
Here’s to graduating college with you.
Here’s to deciding we wouldn’t celebrate December 23rd because it somehow became insignificant after July 7.
Here’s to our first, and second, wedding anniversaries and the champagne.
Here’s to our house in Suburbia.
Here’s to going to sleep with you, waking up with you, laughing, crying, tickle fights, yelling fights, two cats, two cars and lots of holiday decorations that you put up with. Not to mention my Girl Scout troop, book club, business and more.

Here’s to knowing I’d always marry my high school sweetheart, and eight years later I still get butterflies when I see you after a long day of work.
Here’s to the Sunshine of my life.

Us at Crater Lake, OR

Why they shouldn’t sell crack to kids. Part II

Reason: Because if the kids aren’t using it because they’re reading, parents won’t be using it either…

Me: OK, this is getting ridiculous. I luv this vampire crack.

Mommypie: I KNOW! I can’t get over it.

Me: EC has got to be the most datable person in the fictional world. You’d want him. He’s totally your type, what with the TrueBlood watching & being a Ghostbuster and all…

Mommypie: Eh, I wouldn’t be into dating him.

Me: You know that if EC walked in there right now…

Mommypie: Yeah, I’d totally tap that.

Me: Yeah you would! (imagine Joey Tribbiani’s voice in my body)

Yes, vampires and Mommypie. But we’re not really surprised. The crack addiction continues, and it’s spreading like wildfire. [At this point in the post, I got so distracted by finding the lyrics to the Michael Martin Murphey song "Wildfire," that I lost all consciousness of what I was writing about.] “She ran calling WWWIIIILLLLDDDDFFFIIIRRREEEEE!” Then I started to wonder if that song would make a back drop to my reading episodes because it slightly feels like what you are feeling in the end of book 1, beginning of book 2. Nevermind. I’m going to go shoot up on some vampires.

Movin’ On Up

I always loved going to the Nutcracker in Denver, when I lived there. My BrotherBees were never old enough…or mature enough (you know what I’m talking about, penisbreath BigBrotherBee, so don’t get your knickers in a twist) to go, so it was my one night of single-child-hood. We’d get dressed up in the dress that I could only wear two nights out of the year, wear the shoes I could only wear with the dress two nights out of the year, and put on our fancy coats, out into the snow to the Ballet. Going to a professional ballet is jsut about the most girly fun you could have in one evening. Everyone in their best dress, excited, on their best behavior, sitting for hours watching the ballet. The seats were perfect, covered in velvet and the lights sparkled coming out of the brilliant chandeliers. It’s something I will most definitely commit to habit if we ever move to a big city again. The thrill is amazing. Don’t get me wrong, I also enjoy the men in tight pants. But I was 5 back then, give me a break. It’s different now!

In the little city I live in, we still have the Nutcracker and though the ambiance isn’t quite the same, the Nutcracker moves me just the same as when I was a child. My favorite part is the Dew Drop and Prince dance at the end. It’s beautiful. Being a ballerina is definitely still my answer to, “If you could do anything in the world, what would you do?” Err, after saving the world from AIDS and cancer, and taking everyone’s guns and turning them into flowers, and curing child hunger, OF COURSE! I would be a ballerina. I insist on going to some theatrical performance every Christmas. It gets me in the holiday mood, but successfully drains every ounce of my “but you never go to anything I want to do” card out in one night. This year, we went, and I was successful in picking awesome seats. We were in the back, because we’re cheap, but the seats were right behind the handicap spot, so there was lots of leg room, on the aisle. Perfect for my 1.5′ taller-than-me husband.  Then, out of no where, a guy that I know from work comes up. “Um, HubbyBee and QueenBee? I’m trying to film this, and the fire marshall says I can’t film where my seats are, soooo do you mind switching me? I have awesome seats.” HELL YEAH! This kind of thing NEVER happens to me!

As we were walking to our seats (as illustrated below), HubbyBee turns and whispers in my ear, “I think we just passed my boss.” His multimillionaire, made his fortune at the age of 25 boss. Sure enough, he was sitting there with family about 6 rows back. Heh.

What was that, millionaire boss?? We’ll have to catch you after the show.

Why they shouldn’t sell crack to kids.

Reason: Because they already do! See if you can guess.

me: DUDE…no one brought me crack today!

It’s going to be the longest day of my life!

Flemmily: lol. wow.

i didn’t realize you were on crack

it explains quite a bit.

me: yeah…vampire crack

Flemmily: OH!!!!

shoot dude.

me:

Flemmily: You need New Moon

I’m going to leave work early because I have to drive to [podunktown]. I can drop it by on my way back through

me: yes, yes I do

Flemmily: probably around 3:30, 4

1:30 PM me: you have to drive to [podunktown] today? or tomorrow?

Flemmily: tonight, so I don’t have to leave home at 4:00 a.m. tomorrow.

that sounded sucky to me

I’ll drive up tonight, stay in a hotel, present tomorrow, drive back asap when it’s over.

me: WOW…either way, that blows

1:31 PM DRIVE SAFE!

and definitely bring me crack. do you have it in your car?

Flemmily: no, but I have it on my couch

and I have to go pack anyways

1:32 PM so it wont’ be too difficult.

me: ok. if you’re sure.

1:33 PM I really can wait. I think Sara was planning on bringing it tomorrow.

but I might go into hyperventilation before then

1:35 PMFlemmily: : that’s fine! I’ll grab it for you

no worries

1:36 PM me: sweet. I need me some vampire crack.

My friends are my crack dealers…fictional vampire crack that is. Apparently I’m late to the scene with my addiction, but at least I get to join in on the fun. Until I’m the one that gets busted by the cops because I was still reading when they showed up to my imaginary mind party and everyone was done using, and I was tripping. But so be it, I have 3 more long trips to take down vampire lane  and henceforth EC is the crack that runs through my veins. Which is bizarre because I, for one, had no intention on reading these books. But then Mommypie did, and Flemmily, and CMBee, and another co-worker, and I caved. Which is good, because now I have a crack addiction. Excellent. The last time I was this anxious to get my hands on some of this verbal goodness was when HP ran through my veins. I haven’t had a paper high this good since Book 7. I really never thought I’d have it that good again. So, I’ll be diving into my latest trip as soon as Flemmily gets here with the crack. HubbyBee might not see me for the next couple of weeks. Which is fine, because he’s off with Zombie crack. Saving the world one digital zombie at a time. We all have our monster weaknesses.

At least this is a cause I can get behind for kids. Maybe we should take the powder from REAL dealers and just give them this stuff.

Conversations of the masked planner

Today was a working lunch. And to say that we actually worked the whole time…ok, maybe not. But we did have one of our rare lunches where we actually talk business, talk about our clients and wonder what it would be like if our clients didn’t request utterly ridiculous things that are logistically impossible to accomplish, and subject them to torment by their guests. Life would be great, but they do request ridiculous things, and they get what they want and what they deserve.

So as we were heading downtown to one of our fancy worklunch places, where no work was actually going to get done, we started having a conversation. Here’s just a snipit. Because that’s all you get.

“Well, we’re all in the same boat.”

“Yes, I mean, it’s not like anyone else is better off, it’s like a club, and everyone in the WORLD is in it.”

“Except maybe Matthew McConaughey. But I sure wish he was in our club”

“Yeah, Matthew McConaughey is hot. “

“HELLO! That’s why I want him in our club. So we can be like, hey Matthew, what are you doing here.” In our fictional club.

Then we started talking about how someone should really record us and put it on a blog. But no one would get us and they’d be all, why are they talking about clackers and manties? Which, if you don’t know what manties are, then you really wouldn’t get it and we’d loose you and you’d probably open the door to the car while it was still moving, jump out, do the tuck and roll, and end up fine on the curb, but only because you jumped out before we started talking about the Slasher and borrowing butter from a Mexican restaurant, which just might have made you want to blow your brains out on the exact curb that got you safely away from our ramblings.

But really, we got work done. Not to mention we vetoed the child-like, life size, Victorian doll sitting on the front porch while guests are arriving. Someone might have called the cops.

Commericals are what makes me what to shoot my brains out every Sunday.

Yeah, it might be TGIMNF. (that’s Monday Night Football for those of you without football-crazed husbands). But it’s SMBOSF (Shoot My Brains Out Sunday Football).
I’m not tired of football, yet. I actually feel a little sad for my husband, whose favorite sport’s season is already half over. Where as mine, baseball, lasts for FRICKING ever! I will not be the last to admit that 180 games plus post-season gets long. It’s like the whole year. Pretty soon they’ll be adding more games, just like they keep moving daylight savings clock changes closer together. No one will remember when there wasn’t baseball, spring training won’t take place, and baseball will cease to be a past-time, but become all-the-fucking-time sport. And everyone will cheer when football starts, and cry when they don’t have a new episode of Pushing Daisies because there’s a baseball play-off game. I wonder if we’ll even have playoffs in our new year-round baseball season.
But until that happens, I’m ready to kill myself. Why? Because the ads during Sunday Football make me want to cry like a little girl. Hurray for jingles…I mean, there’s nothing like being a musician that makes repetitive songs that you don’t have to wait for hours listening on the radio to here…just wait until a ‘commercial timeout’ to hear your own creation. Which, don’t even get me started on ‘commercial timeouts.’ Have you ever been to a game with those? It SUCKS. Seriously, they can’t go one set of downs without a timeout. BO-RING. But, I digress, much like this entire post.
I have recently started cringing when I hear a couple different commercials. So much that HubbyBee and I have wondered if throwing the remote at our TV will end the suffering that we have to endure by listening to:
SAVED BY ZERO! SAVED BY ZERO! over and over and over and over and over and over again. Just thinking about it makes me want to…well, Bill Simmons, a columnist for ESPN had this to say about that commercial:
“Speaking of halfway points, let’s take a commercial break before the second half of the column.

Saaaaaaved byyyyyy zerrrrrr-ohhhhhhhhhh.

“Now, for a limited time only, you can get amazing zero APR financing on your favorite Toyota.”

Saaaaaaved byyyyyy zerrrrrr-ohhhhhhhhhh.

“That’s 0 percent financing on 11 different models! Featuring Toyota’s legendary quality. No other car brand can make this offer. So hurry in now, and see how much zero can save you on a brand new Toyota.”

Saved by zero! Saved by zero!

(By the way, I did that off the top of my head. We are reaching the point that I am two weeks away from stopping by my local Toyota dealership, buying a brand-new Toyota Tundra with zero APR financing, driving the car off the lot, doing a U-turn, then plowing it through the front window of the dealership at 60 mph while screaming, “SAVED BY ZERO,” like the guys from “Red Dawn” screamed, “WOLVERINES!” Cut down on the ads, Toyota. We’re not kidding. You know why you haven’t see John Mellencamp in two years? He’s trapped in the basement of some frustrated baseball fan who dressed him like the Gimp and keeps him in a trunk after hearing “Our Country” for the 700,000th time. Look, we’re all ecstatic that the guys from the Fixx are getting royalties again. Just tone it down. We get it. Zero APR financing. Heard you loud and clear.)”
I feel the same way. To read the rest of his analysis of half-way football team information, read here.

And don’t even get me started on the freecreditreport.com guy. I’m sorry this guy couldn’t get a car, couldn’t get a job, and apparently can’t get a record deal, but really, I’m ok! I checked my credit last night. And yes, it was free. But I’m sorry, my credit is better than yours. I’ll see you next week when you serve me my fish & chips basket. For god sakes, don’t bring your guitar! Or your pose. Or your 1993 Geo for that matter.

Finally, there’s the endless Sonic and Olive Garden ads. This are annoying because, HEEELLLOOOOO. I don’t have either of these restaurants to go to. I can’t enjoy whatever drink possibilities I want. Or endless soup, salad & breadsticks. I can’t. And I’m sad. Could the TV please stop torturing me while I’m eating my lukewarm soup that I had to heat up in the nuker?

I’m theeeeesse close to chucking the whole damn thing out the window. If only I wasn’t so attached to Pushing Daisies and Mike Rowe. I’ll just have to wait for CWFMBA (Can’t Wait For More Baseball April).