Saturday, October 28, 2006

My Magic Glasses

I lose my $125 Ray Ban sunglasses but rather than replace them with expensive glasses I ran to Target and found a really cute pair for $10. It was just a couple days later that my incident at Sonic happened. Remember, my Heather Locklear story? Of course you do. Well, it gets better. The day after that darling waitress said I looked like Heather, my mom and I were heading to the mall. I passed a cop who was parked on the side of the road. I wasn't sure what the speed limit was but I thought it was 35 mph. I was going about 37 mph. Suddenly, I noticed he was right behind me. Like almost touching my damn car he was sooooo close. I made a turn onto a road that was 45 mph but he seemed like he was in such a hurry, I thought it would be safe to go 47 mph.

I was greeted with flashing lights in my rearview mirror. DAMN! He was pulling me over!

He comes up to my window. No, he sauntered up to my window. "What is the speed limit back there on XXXX road?"

I answered 35 mph. (it is 30!) Then he says, well, you were going faster than that. AND, that I was going 47 in a 45 right after that. Incredulous that he was chiding me for going 2 mph over the limit all I could do was smile, laugh and say "I'm sorry." I then handed him my driver's license. He looked it over and then asked for my insurance verification. Then he gets a goofy grin on his face, "Now, am I going to have to write you a citation to REMIND you of the speed limit?"

To which I answered, no. Okay, I tossed my hair a little and giggled and said "No, I promise I will drive the exact speed limit all the way to the mall."

As he got back into this car I turned to my mother and said, "Heather and I don't GET speeding tickets!"

I am telling you my $10 sunglasses from Target are magic. I feel like Forest Gump, "Them are magic glasses, Lt. Dan!"

Because my email mailbox has been crammed with requests here is a picture of me in "full Heather mode."

Phase I of "The Big Move" is happening today. I will be without my computer from about Sunday afternoon until Monday night. And, I start my new job on Monday. Yeah, I must like stress.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

I've got a beef.

I am a huge fan of the Dixie Chicks. I have every CD and have been to one of their concerts. I can sing (although not well) every song. I consider myself an Honorary Chick. No, I don't think it was appropriate for them to air their political views in front of an audience that was paying to see them sing but its not like its the first time a performance artist expressed his/her views in front of an audience.

What I don't like is the way they have been black-balled and bad-mouthed. I find it interesting that actors such as Johnny Depp and Alec Baldwin can insult the U.S. and its policies and people do not boycott their movies.

But, my biggest beef is people tearing them down because of their looks. I know. You are frowning now and wondering where I am going here. Hang on. It's a bumpy ride.

My parents were just in town and something came up about the Chicks. My mother says (sorry, mom - don't worry ya'll, my mom doesn't read this) "I hate that short and fat one."

Whoa, whoa, whoa! When did this become about looks? I suspect because they are women. This goes beyond the Dixie Chicks. Let me give you another example.

Recently, I was around someone who is in the military. He begins talking about Hilary Clinton and asked me if I thought she would be president. I answered that I didn't think so. I think she is a very smart lady but politically she seems to have too many people working against her. He starts in with this story about how she and Bill visited the Air Force Base he was stationed at. He then said her legs were like tree trunks and she was beaten within an inch of her life with an ugly stick.

Now I ask you, what do her looks have to do with her being president or smart? The last I noticed, President Bush isn't exactly PlayGirl material. Neither is John Dean. Now John Edwards? Hmmmmm, he's pretty cute. But that's another post.

I don't like that people (men and women alike) always go to a woman' s physical appearance. Men do not undergo the same scrutiny.

I am getting ready to re-enter the working world. Do I worry that I will look/feel old? Of course. I hope that I will be judged on my performance and not on my looks but I didn't just fall of the old turnip truck. I am perfectly aware that I will be judged on my appearance to a certain degree. Just please, please, don't let me hear you refer to me as the "short, fat one."

Added: Its been pointed out that I meant Howard Dean, not John Dean. Sorry, when I am frothing at the mouth I get a little crazy.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Doing Grass with the Family

Grass is bad for you. Just say no.

I should know. I moved Bermuda grass sod for two hours last night. My back was already cramping up during the whole load big squares into the wheelbarrow, push wheelbarrow to receiving area, unload.

While I was sleeping I could feel the soreness creeping into my muscles, who were too tired to fight it off.

Of course, I enlisted the help of my two strapping young boys. And they were....uh...unenthusiastic. The middle one, let's call him Party Boy, wanted to go to a volleyball game. Too bad. Family needs your help. Your first loyalty is to family. (I am a bit of a Don Corleone when it comes to family!). The youngest was trying to be helpful. But, he wanted to do all of his sod work while riding his scooter. A bad idea, I finally had to tell him.

But, I did the thing I never thought I would. I yanked out one of those, "When I was A Kid" stories to illustrate how much harder my generation works than theirs. Hey, my parents did it to me when I was a kid. I could see they were just as impressed as I was when my parents would go on at length about how hard they worked, what they did without, how grateful they were for whatever they had.

I watched Party Boy as he lay on the pallet full of sod and I knew that to him my voice had turned into the voice on Charlie Brown cartoons whenever an adult talks. Wah, Wah, Wah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Yada, Yada, Yada.

Monday, October 23, 2006


Well, right after I posted the last, the hubs went over to the new house to check on things. He called me. Said the words that send shivers down my spine (in a bad way), "guess what happened?"

Someone took all $5,000 worth of our black iron fence panels. We'd had them delivered on Friday and locked and stored in the garage. There is a security gate in our neighborhood that is closed over the weekend so we know it was a contractor that knew the code. And, since the guys so nicely delivered the wood we were waiting for IN THE FENCE's SPOT IN THE GARAGE we are pretty sure of who it is. Can't prove it though.

I know to those contractors it looks like we are rich. I would like them to know that I don't know what rich is... but I don't feel like I am rich with money. Rich with love, good health and a wonderful family? Yes!

My husband put himself through college. Columbia University. Not exactly cheap. He has worked for every penny we have. Hard. We have scrimped and saved. No trust funds, no rich parents either paying for college or a down payment on a house. No inheritances.

We made our boys SHARE one GameBoy. Made them share other toys too. Made them save up their own money for XBoxes and the like. We usually pay cash for things. Pay off our cars in half the allotted loan time. How? By doing without other things. We drive very boring, American cars. No fancy sports cars or anything. No designer duds on our bodies either.

My husband was going to install the fence himself to save money. We built this house on a CostPlus basis which saved us a lot of money. I bought some of the fixtures on ebay TO SAVE MONEY. So, it deeply offends me that some person thought he could just help himself to my stuff.

I suppose we will file a claim on our homeowners insurance or the builder may be able to on his. I don't know. Its not the money as much as the feeling of violation.

According to Wickipedia - Violation is a general term for an offense or for any act or event that is against a rule, law, right or expectation. In some jurisdictions, violation is a legal term for a class of petty offenses, also known as infractions. Violation is also an old euphemism for rape.

Yup, that's what it feels like all right.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Read on...

This post goes with the one before it. So read on down... Damn Blogger wouldn't upload my pic on that post!!


This is my 200th post.

What a crazy week. The new house finish date keeps moving. The wrong way. First it was the 9th, then the 13th, then the 20th. If I am not moved in by Nov. 4, there will be heads rolling.

I have fully explained to the builder that my ENTIRE FAMILY is coming for THANKSGIVING and I am starting A NEW JOB on the 30th.

My parents came to visit this weekend so here is my mother in front of the new place yesterday. You can see how close we are to being finished. We are waiting for the damn electricity to be turned on. The meter guy came out and decided that some little wire didn't look just right and left again. So, the poor hubs, called and got put on hold for the 20th time, just to hear them say, "the soonest we can come back out is Tuesday and that means 48 hours AROUND Tuesday. Well, if the electricity isn't on, then the A/C isn't on and if the A/C isn't on the woodfloor guy won't bring my wood so it can acclimate in the house for two days. See the compounding problem here? I am about to use newspaper in my formal dining and tell everyone how "out" wood is and how in and "green" it is to line your floors with newspaper.

Here is the view from the kitchen into the living and bare floor dining.

Oh and we are waiting on a new tub to be made. They finally brought the top part of my bath tub, brought in my big soaker tub and discovered the hole was too big. So, they are making a whole other one. Again, who needs to bathe? I am thinking we are good to move in anyway.

Seriously, I am trying NOT to freak out about the move and starting work.

We sold the house we are in (for the third time but I think this is the real deal) and have to be out on the 14th, which is okay. I just keep telling myself that I do not have to have everything all set up, pictures hung or anything by Thanksgiving. My family will be happy with sleeping bags and Boston Market turkey dinner. The problem is, I won't be. My inner Martha keeps trying to claw her way out. Back you bitch! I don't care that you are trying to be "one of the people" now. Neither you OR Oprah don't fool me!

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Me & Heather

It doesn't take all that much to make my day. Really. A chat with a girlfriend, a good cup of coffee, a sexy email from the hubby.

Today my day was made by a waitress from Sonic Drive-In.

I pulled up to the drive-thru to get my medium diet Limeade and then pulled up to wait for the car hop to bring it to my window. A girl (17, maybe 18) brings my drink. She looks at me and then says, "Do you know who you look like?" I smiled and asked who.

"Heather Locklear. You have the same nose she does, too!"

After I picked up my ass because truly, I was LMAO after that comment, I told her that she had made my day -- no, my whole week! Then I gave her a really big tip and thanked her profusely.

I did have my new sunglasses on that obviously make me look like a celebrity but I know that I don't resemble Heather even on her most skanky of days. No matter, I had to call the hubs. He LOVES Heather Locklear but he is out of town and in the middle of some big send off thing for a large offshore structure. I'm sure its all real important stuff but I had something even more important to share. I could tell he was pleased that I called in the middle of his meeting to share this VERY IMPORTANT piece of information with him.

Trust me, I am telling everyone I meet for the next two weeks what that waitress said. I'm sure Heather would do the same for me.

Coincidence that Heather was married to Tommy Lee (who I think is a Hottie McHottie!)? I think not. Obviously, Heather and I have LOTS in common.

Monday, October 16, 2006

The Sky is Falling!

It has been pouring rain here since yesterday. Midway through the night the hubs rolls over and mutters, "should I start building an ark?"

The weather people are freaking out. Every newsperson has outfitted themselves in baseball caps and waders and rushed out to "go live" somewhere in Houston. Just now they broke in and this blonde who looks as if she'd never done anything more outdoorsy than run from her condo to her vehicle is standing near a flooded street.

"The water right behind me is AT LEAST 4 TO 5 FEET DEEP!"
Just then a car drives through the street and the water reached all the way up to the bottom of its hubcap. I think someone needs to let her know just how deep 4 to 5 ft. actually is.

If she wants to shoot something exciting then she should come on over and see my swamp/swimming pool. The draininge tube got clogged again and then all the dirt and crap goes into the pool. It is also spilling over. They could have gone LIVE as I went out and dug in to the dirt with my bare hands to free the flood waters!! It was really exciting! Especially since I couldn't find a damn umbrella and held a pool towel over my head to do it.

Let me know if you see me on the news.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Weekend Ramblings....

This is my weekly ramble. Just whatever weird shit comes to mind will then be typed onto my blog.

1. I went into Smoothie King today thinking that instead of grabbing some unhealthy fastfood during my lunch break I would do the smart, healthy thing. Holy Shit! Did you know they charge $6.79 to be freakin' healthy in there??

2. The guy ahead of me at the "legal & voluntary hold-up" smoothie place looked like he was half-midget (my apologies now to any midgets reading this, I am not trying to put you down. Really.) and was missing half of his left arm but he had a French accent. He was still sexy just because of that accent in a sick, twisted sort of way.

3. Some teachers really like to hear themselves talk. Come on, they have a captive audience of teenagers and somehow this has lead them to believe they are wise and interesting. Let me assure the ones I have heard so are delusional.

4. Divorce and talk of it seems to be running rampant in my life right now. No, not me personally - just several people I know. Is it our age? Kids are growing up and you look over and I really even LIKE you anymore?

5. Middle-school age kids have no sense of personal space. I have done my fundraiser kick-offs mainly at elementary schools and they come in several hundred at a time and behave like an audience. Unfortunately, in the middle schools I have to set up in their classroom. This gives them the idea that I want to be close to them. They come up and touch my toys. The prizes - not the girls. Today I was at a high school. Totally different story. At one point, I asked a boy if I was interrupting his sleep by passing out cookies for them to sample.

6. Had a job interview yesterday for the same sales job that I wanted back before summer. This time the job I want is available. Sinful amount of money to visit with people and take them to lunch. I was offered the job before our food even arrived. I will be taking it and entering the outside world in a Big Way.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Difficult or not? That is the question!

Do difficult people think they are difficult?

This is a question I have been pondering. Ever since our builder had a hissy fit and hung up on the husband. But wait, I will back up and give you the rest of the story.

The hubs had been asking the junior builder (that we have been raising AND helping to build our house) When does the gas meter need to be put in? He kept being told "not yet." Then we are told we are a week or two away from completion and junior builder calls and says, "the gas co. says that to expadite the order it will cost an additional $400."

So we pay the $400 but we do not feel that we owe this money. Since the hubs had asked about this at least twice. We tell the senior builder that we would like to be reimbursed. At the time he nods and says, "Oh sure." The next day he calls the hubs and throws a fit on the phone says things like, "I'm not making hardly any money on this deal," "I''m not paying for this!" "We've bent over backward making changes." Then he hung up.

My husband never lost his temper. He isn't like that. He is always courteous. Seriously. Now me? Not so much. I would have told him just how far up his ass to shove his temper.

Let me explain another thing. We are building this house on a cost-plus basis. That means the builder gets a flat fee. We are stewards of the budget and what is going on. It does demand that we take a pretty heavy hand in the process and saved us probably $20K.

We are big emailers and believe in putting anything we discuss in writing for clarification. Does that make us difficult?

The question I have been wondering though is IF we are difficult customers would we know it? How would we know? I look back on my life and I know that any place I have ever worked would take me back in a minute, I have had friends and still have them since 7th grade (Carol - you came in what 11th grade?). If I was that difficult wouldn't I know it by now? Haven't you met people though who will go on and on about how nice they are and how easy going and you are sitting there smirking on the inside? What do you think?

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Let's Dance!

My parents have never been big television watchers. They considered it a waste of time. Now don't go thinking they were professors or brainiacs. Nothing like that. They just didn't grow up with it and are from the old school that "one should be doing something productive" all the time. That meant work. Housework, yardwork, schoolwork.

My mother's idea of productive usually involved a vacuum of some kind. She has several. Got to have the right tool for the job. Canister, upright, name it and she can suck it up. That didn't sound right.

This attitude is what makes this so funny. My mother has fallen head over heels with the show Dancing with the Stars. She even calls me during the show so we can discuss the finer points of Jerry Springer's audience appeal or Emmit's dancing ability. She really loves, I mean Mario Lopez. Okay, I admit, I could dive into those dimples of his too and his butt looks awfully good in spandex.

I like that my mom has found a "hobby." Even if it is something as worthless as watching t.v. It's better than sucking...with the vacuum.

Hey, did anyone else totally love the new Lost episode!! I predict that Jack and Juliette will be getting it on soon. And, why are the Other's keeping the Lostees as such arm's length? So much we do NOT know!!!

Monday, October 02, 2006

It's Fun to be a Parent!

Believe it or not, not all parts of being a parent are particularly fun. Some days are gold though. Those are the times that make all the others fade into the background.

Sometimes you have a conversation with your kiddos and you know that you will never forget it.

"But why can't I have my own computer?" - uh, no not that conversation.
"I want a four wheeler for my birthday!" - no, no not that one either.
"I made a 45 on the test today." - definately not that one.

The other night one of those EPT (Early Pregnancy Test) commercials was on. I tell you, anymore some of the commercials make me change the channel in front of the kids more than the actual t.v. shows!

My 9 year old was in the room. He's the one who still thinks girls are gross. If any kissing goes on in a show he plows his head under the sofa cushions until that part is finished.

He asked me how those pregnancy things worked. How did you know you were pregnant? I started smiling on my insides before it ever even reached my face as I thought about my answer. I knew that this was a parenting moment that I would buy a ticket to watch!

"You pee on it."

Cue dying scene. Nine year old grabs his neck and proceeds to fall down on the floor as he mimics convulsions of grossness. Then he jumps back up.

"Oh, I thought you put it in your mouth." Again, I couldn't stop myself.

"I hope not. Especially after you just pee'd on it." Again, I was rewarded with an even grander dying scene worthy of Hollywood.

Sometimes there ARE fun Parenting conversations!