Spurred by Tibbles

I internet love you if:

1. You're goofy enough to not care
2. You write on my shoutbox
3. You shamelessly flirt with me
4. You write secret messages
5. You use pictures in your posts
6. You send me emails
7. You don't take offense to my comments
8. You miss me when I'm gone
9. You swear and swear often
10. You take me places with your words

I want to post

Really, I do. But right now I have just enough energy to bring a beer to my lips. If I have to choose between beer and blogging, I'm sorry but I have to go with the beer.

I'll miss you most of all, Scarecrow

So my dad (who was supposed to come to town on Thursday) will be here today, in about an hour. You know what that means for me. No going out and getting drunk! No, really it means I won't be around the blogs much, and won't be on MSN at night. My computer is in the guest room. I don't really know how long he'll be here, I know he told me once upon a time but you know my memory. It's kind of rude to ask "so when are you leaving" so I'll just go with it. I will visit as often as possible, and try to get on MSN at work. Please email me. Please! I will be so lonely! Do not forsake me. I beg of you.

All grows up

What's up with skorts? Seriously, am I the only one who thinks they're retarded? Looking through the ads on Sunday that's all I saw, skorts skorts skorts. Not only do I think the whole concept is lame for anyone over age 10, but the word itself is annoying. Skort. Lame.
I can see why a little girl would wear them, they're always flipping around the bars or turning cartwheels. It's a welcome alternative to wearing shorts under your skirt. I had to wear shorts under my skirts those three times my mom convinced me to wear one. I was always upsidedown. Grown women however, should not be wearing skorts. I cannot think of a reason why a grown woman would need skorts. Ok, I can think of a couple reasons, but none are compelling enough to justify wearing something called a SKORT.

Monday

I was driving home the other day and I saw a VW Scirocco. It got me thinking about my friend James because he taught me how to drive a stick in his Scirocco. Seriously, drive a five-speed, that's not a euphemism. Anyway, I went on this huge voyage on my thought train, thinking about high school, wondering how James is now, if he ever married that girl, if he finished his thesis on snowy plovers. All kinds of things, you know how your mind wanders. So after about fifteen minutes of following this car and thinking about James and high school and UC Davis and a bunch of people I haven't thought about in ages, I realized it wasn't a Scirocco at all. It was a fucking Nissan or some shit. Stupid car. I should look James up.

I'm really glad I got to throw away last week's TV Guide. On the cover it said Gilmore Girls Crisis! And every time I walked by it I would say in my head "Oh no! A crisis on Gilmore Girls! What are we going to do, how will we live? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW????" I couldn't stop myself, I'd think it every time. I only get the TV Guide for the crossword puzzles anyway. Tivo renders the TV Guide pretty useless. The only thing it's good for (other than the crossword puzzle) is when it tells me a show is starting. I've been waiting for The Dead Zone and Nip/Tuck to start. I'm dying over here.

The Bridal Shower

My sister's bridal shower was yesterday. I have to say it was a huge success. Everything went very smoothly, I wasn't a complete nutcase, and people seemed to have a good time. The place looked great, my house was sparkly, the decorations somehow made it up, check out the cute napkins.

I'm telling you, I should do this for a living. Alyssa and I planned the entire shower over instant message. So 2005.


The favors were quite popular, and I'm sure you can see why. Thanks to Terra's suggestion I ordered those fortune cookies with the personalized message inside. I put them in decorative chinese food boxes. How freaking cute, huh?
So there I am, all Martha fucking Stewart, right? Homemade carrot cake, pasta jambalaya, the Stepford Wife dress from hell. I'm taking white, floral print, pink fucking gingham ribbon tied at the waist, white sandals (before memorial day? the horror!) the works.

I'm Bree Van De Kamp with a cake knife in one hand and a Coors Light in the other. Sometimes I impress even myself.

After grabbing a short nap we went out dancing. As you can see from the post below, it was a lot of fun. Just to warn you, Rosie McCann's serves really big shots of Patron. Big.
D-Nice was not lying, I did have a mishap with a bush. I almost died too, not from the scrape but from laughing so hard.

See? Be careful out there. These are dangerous times. (this is my leg, Cat. not my arm)
I got home at 4am. I need more coffee.

Oh, this was funny. My friend lost her wallet at the bar and wanted to leave her phone number with the bartender just in case they found it. That's not the funny part. Also, someone did find it and she got it back, so that turned out well. Anyway, I pulled a small notebook and a pen out of my purse so she could write her information for the bartender and some guy next to me says "I've never seen someone carry around a pen and a notebook, are you a major player or what?" I look at him and reply "I'm not a player, I'm obsessive compulsive". He so didn't know what to make of that.

Saturday night

Do you guys remember D-Nice? I know, it's been a while. She hasn't been around since the WOLF fiasco. Oh right, that was me. Ok, well anyway, we're here and we're drunk together and the backspace button has been over-used tonight.
She wants to say hi and

I almost fell. Cindy had a mishap with a thorn and I have allergies. WTF sister!

My sister is leaving, she wants to say goodbye

Quit thinking about my sister making out with chicks.

Dude, you want to know the weirdest thing? My sister typed that without the backspace button. Not even once. Weird. I'm all over the backspace button right now.
Alyssa is mad at her booty call
They just let the cat out
I've had a lot of tequila.

Pirates are replacing squirrels as the new black

I have this on going pirate thing with one of my co-workers. This guy came in to open an account and he had some weird shit like growing on his fingernails. It was pretty gross. Anyway, we started calling him Ol' Barnacle Hands. It just took off from there. Pretty much every email or post-it note we leave for each other includes some sort of pirate reference. Once she even made this little pop-up note in my drawer, that was sweet. The best email she ever sent me said:

whatever happened to Ol' Barnacle Hands?

...he was lost at sea, wasn't he. that be a mighty shame.

She left me a post-it asking me to do something and said to beware the barnacle. I did the opposite of what she asked, just to piss her off, and I found a post-it on Monday that called me a scurvy sea witch and I left her one threatening to make her walk the plank for that. Yeah, we like post-its around here. I don't usually get to work with her, we alternate days so it's kind of rare to be here at the same time. She's here with me today though, and we've been laughing A LOT. She said I killed the pope. I know that doesn't translate well, but trust me, it was funny. I laughed so hard I kind of wanted to throw up.
Well, I just wanted to tell you all about Ol' Barnacle Hands. Chris posted a pirate story and it made me think of this. Agent LAH posted about puking out of a car, and it reminded me of a funny story. I'll save that little gem for later. I think I'll go get a Jamba Juice now.

power: on

So, the power goes out this morning at work. My first thought? No, it wasn't "how are we going to get our work done". It was "I better go get some coffee before it gets cold". Yes, I do have my priorities straight.

I love my friends

I had the most amusing talk with Duckie this morning. We always talk on Tuesday and Thursday mornings at 8 o'clock and we always talk about the most random crap. Last time I posted about the Porn & Pizza rule, remember? He's also the one who told me I laugh like a stoner. Which isn't always true. That's only my half-laughing huh-huh-huh laugh; when I really laugh it's more like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Anyway, he did this evil genius laugh and I complemented him on it, he's very good at it. He tells me he was giving his friend some pointers on the evil laugh last night. He said "He's got the evil part down, but he needs to add the maniacal". That just killed me. Evil laugh pointers. I am so very bad at the evil laugh. I could use some lessons. Then the conversation turned to me kissing women. I know, much better, right? I said I'd kiss Ashley Judd or Alyssa Milano. He suggested Jessica Alba, but she seems too young and innocent, I'd feel like I was doing something wrong. No, Alyssa Milano is hot and a little skanky, and Ashley Judd is hot and classy. And they're both old enough. We hang up and Duckie goes into work and sends me this in an email.


Um......

I am on a major Lyle kick right now.

Lyle Lovett has a song called Sonja from his I Love Everybody album. It's about him writing a love song for a waitress. It says "And I need to impress her, cause I want to undress her". I was listening to it earlier and started thinking: This is how all men think, isn't it? They just try to do whatever it takes to impress a woman enough to get her clothes off. Some use music, some use athletic prowess, some use their writing, some use their looks, but they're all using whatever tools they have to get in some girl's pants. I get it now.

On a side note, I just created the best Lyle Lovett mix CD ever. If you'd like a copy, let me know. He has the most amazing voice in the world.

and he titled the email "hehehe"

My dad just sent me this in an email. I love my dad.

Tuesday is my day off

I just finished a book called Killer Dust. It was totally lame. I didn't care about anything or anybody in the book until just before the end then they killed him. Stupid. I love to sit outside in the sun and read in the mornings. I like the birds twittering away in the trees and the sun on my face. My cat was out there trying to catch a bug for breakfast. It's funny when she wants to get a bird or a squirrel and she runs along the fence and tries to jump up to get it. She's so fat she makes it about halfway up the fence them falls back down. Fatty Fat-cat. I love her. I hope she doesn't die soon, she's old. And fat. The vet told me to make sure she gets 45 minutes of aerobic activity a day. I tie her to the treadmill and make her run. Just kidding, how are you supposed to make sure your cat gets 45 minutes of aerobic activity a day? She only plays fetch with a rubberband for about ten minutes before collapsing. When I was a kid I had a cross eyed cat. I think every single animal I've ever had has been found or rescued. I brought a dog home from school once. The poor thing was all abandoned and the janitor was going to take her to the pound so I took her home and hid her in the playhouse out back. Then it started raining so I had to tell my mom she was out there. My mom said no way, then she saw her sad boo-boo eyes and we got to keep her. Fatty ran up to me in downtown San Jose, outside of David's FRAT HOUSE. Ha. She was all skinny and covered in spider webs. She found me, I didn't find her. My dog Targa was found under a car, my cat Seymour was rescued from an unwanted litter, the cross eyed cat was the retarded runt of a wild litter. My attention span just ran out on the animal topic.
Let me share this with you. An email I sent my neighbor:

I'm having my sister's shower here on Saturday and I was wondering
if you would still be able to get those canopy things from work? You
know, so the old people don't faint from the heat? I also want to
know if I can use your picnic bench, PLEASE!!!!
Cindy


Her reply:

Number one: DON'T BEG. IT SHOWS YOU ARE A SISSY.
Number two: WHAT TIME IS THIS AT?
Number 3....WHEN IS THE STRIPPER PARTY?

I'm a hater

What does it say about me that I hate a five year old? I'm talking HATE, I HATE this kid. Maybe not HATE but hate. For sure. I feel bad, and I know it's bad but I just can't help it. He is SO annoying and just plain mean. He's that bad kid you don't want your kid to play with but for some reason your kid wants to play with him anyway. This kid has hit Caden, bit Caden, ran Caden over with his Big Wheel, punched him, kicked him, thrown rocks at his head, and Caden still wants to play with him! I don't get it. And PLEASE somebody teach him that there is in fact a D in Caden. He sounds like a fucking retard saying his name. Oh I'm so going to hell. But just do it, just say Caden as if there was no D. Ca-en. OH MY GOD. Don't you think five should be old enough to say it right? Fucking kid. He comes in the house today and says "Cindy?" and I say "yes?" and he says "hi". I'm like (don't ever fucking talk to me again you little shit) "hi". The first two times I said hi. The next time I just didn't say anything and the fourth time I said "stop it". When I see him I make a face like I just ate something that tastes disgusting. I can't stop myself. I hope they move.

I feel so loved

Yankeebob is so awesome! He took the Blogger CD and made it pretty for me. It has all the songs listed on it, along with my squirrel avatar and my Cindy-Lou avatar, plus a bonus picture of Rocky from Rocky and Bullwinkle! What a guy that Yankeebob is. I think I love him.
Of course, this means I have an extra copy of my boring, drab looking CD if anyone is interested. I hate to just toss it. (clarification: the CD looks drab and boring, the music is not)

Thank you so much, YB. You're the best.

The Peevery, new and improved

Michelle made me do a little housecleaning over at the new Peevery. I had to re-title all my old posts and catagorize them. Funny how 75% of my peeves fall under one specific catagory, huh? I'm just glad I only had to go as far back as November. I feel sorry for the rest of those poor bastards who have two years worth of posts to work on.
Anyway, I came across this little gem that I posted some time ago, and wanted to share it with you guys. I re-read it and it made me laugh all over again.
Also, Michelle's brilliance can be seen on this post. I love myself in a giant beer.
Happy Saturday!

Quickie.

I find Blog Ho and Screetus to be the most myterious and exotic bloggers around.

I love Blogger!

No, really I do. I owe all of you to Blogger, how could I not love it? I'm willing to cut Blogger a little slack because it connected me to so many great people. I'm so glad I started blogging. Am I getting all mushy here, because it's so unlike me. At least when I'm sober.
I'll admit a slight irritation with Blogger, especially last night when I couldn't post. Blogger is responsible for you not being able to read my post-margarita hour ramblings. I cannot for the life of me remember what words of wisdom I was going to unleash upon you, but I'm sure it would have been brilliant. I apparently wanted to tell you something about Van Morrison.
Margarita hour was great. I know Duckie sort of faded out of the blogging world, but I assure you he's alive and well in the real world. He's going to paint me something for my dining room. I already have one piece by him in my family room. Someday he'll be famous and my two paintings will be worth a fortune. It's actually my retirement plan. No, I'm kidding, I have a great retirement plan. I'll be retired by 50 and lounging by my pool with a drink in my hand. I'm sure it'll have a little umbrella in it, too. And dude, check out my pool boy. Hot.
Oh, and I had a sex dream about Zach Braff last night.

Do you like my shoes?

I want to be like Ty. But my argyle socks are cooler. They're denim Converse. Denim! And the soles are red. How cool is that? Speaking of shoes...
I have to go to the mall today and buy some new shoes. I know what you're thinking, but I really do need them. I don't have a single pair of shoes to go with the dress I just bought for my sister's shower next weekend. As much as I'd love to wear the Converse, I need something cuter. And strappier. With a heel. I also need one of these belts.


Need may be too strong of a word. Want. Yeah, that's better. I always get what I want, anyway. So, since it's raining and the beach is out, I will head to the mall and support the economy. I have to do my part.

America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

Racing the sun

I went grocery shopping tonight. Nothing exciting happened like when YB goes shopping, although I did take a step back and look at myself and wonder what people think. I'm pushing the cart, hopping and skipping down the isles, singing along to Bread. If a picture paints a thousand words then why can't I paint you....
I wonder if people think I have a screw loose. Oh my god, I'm one of those people YB talks about! Damn it. Oh well, I have to amuse myself somehow.
This however, is not the point of my post.
When I walked out of the store the sky looked amazing. I just had to get a picture, and I wanted this picture from the top of that hill at the park. I crammed all the groceries in my backseat (because my trunk is still full of luau decorations) and raced home. Almost took out a few neighborhood kids along the way. Stupid kids shouldn't be playing in the street anyway. I threw all the bags on the counter in a haphazard mound of yogurt, bread, and cereal, jumped back in the car and sped down the street. I was flying, I'm talking 50 in a 40 zone. (joke) I turn on Lean, FUCK this is Dunn not Lean! Run a stop sign, flip an illegal u-turn, back on Santa Teresa, ok here's Lean. I pull up to the curb, grab my camera and bolt into the park. The whole way there I'm looking over my shoulder to check the movement of the sun. I'm so close. I run up the hill, ok I'll be honest, I ran halfway up the hill and kind of hobbled the rest of the way. I'm pulling out my camera as I crest the hill. I turn around, put the camera to my face and....
I fucking missed the sunset by like three minutes. Son of a fucking bitch. As I trudge dejectedly down the hill on shaky legs I vow to myself: I will make it tomorrow.

Origin of the Word ''Nerd''

There are two popular stories about the origin of the word, "nerd."

The first is that it come from Dr. Suess's "If I Ran the Zoo," in which appears a creature called a "nerd." This book was published in 1950.

"I'll sail to Ka-Troo And Bring Back an It-Kutch, a Preep and a Proo, A Nerkle, a Nerd, and a Seersucker, too!"

The second is that it is a variation on the name of ventriloquist Edgar Bergen's (Candace's father) dummy, "Mortimer Snerd."

Either theory could be correct. There is no record of the term prior to its 1950 appearance in the Dr. Suess book. The earliest citing of the current usage is from 1951.

Coincidence?

Roy Hobbs, were you at Vasona recently? I never knew you felt this way about me...

I have red hair now.

Haircut: $45
Color: $95
Shampoo and conditioner for color treated hair: $20

Spending 3 hours in a salon to come home and have your son say your hair looks messy: Priceless



I really did it for YB. I know how he feels about redheads.

I wish I may, I wish I might

Tibbles asked:

"If a genie showed/up and gave you three wishes and one of them could not be unlimited wishes forever what would your three wishes be?"

I decided the answer was too long for the comment section so here's my reply.

1. Every time I choose a number on the roulette table I want it to come up. (have to get the money one out of the way first, right? and what better way to make money than gambling? Functional and fun, plus you get free beer)

2. I want it to never rain two days in a row. I just can't take it. (what good is all that money if I'm in a bad mood? although, if it's a rainy day I could always head to the casino and make some more money, you know, just to pass the time)

3. This one is hard...let's see....should I choose to never get sick again or to be rid of all my irrational fears? Oh...I say I want to never get sick again. Not a cold, not the flu, definitely not cancer. (this goes for all STD's too) I figure if I'm rich enough I won't ever have to deal with spiders or flying if I don't want to, and I'll probably have a cook to open all my biscuits, right? Or better yet, make them all from scratch for me. I bet Nigella makes all her biscuits fresh every day. Nigella's biscuits....mmm. Ok, that settles it. I will never get sick again and I will use all my wealth to lure Nigella to my kitchen. Perfect.

There you go, Ty. Anyone else feel like answering the three wish question? Apparently there's extra credit involved, so if you're just a few points away from an A it might be a good idea.

You know what I think is funny?

Changing the time to suit our needs. I mean, how self-centered can we get? Oh, it's not light enough for you? Oh, you want it to get light earlier? Well sure, we can arrange that, just switch the clocks, no big deal. What else do you want? How about an extra day in February, would that make you happy? I know it makes me happy. I just love the word February. I love the way it's spelled; it makes me giddy to throw in that extra R just for the hell of it. Throwing in extra letters all nimbly bimbly. Extra R's in February; extra D's in Wednesday. This world is going to hell in a handbasket and I tell you I will NOT be here to pick up the pieces. I'll be in hell. With the rest of you. and this post makes absolutely no sense so good night.

Bang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammer

I heard today that when the pope dies it's customary for someone (a cardinal maybe?) to go in and hit him on the head with a silver hammer. I think this is to make sure he's dead, or to finish the job. Personally, I think it's a little strange but you know customs. They're either forcing you to do something just because that's what they've always done or they're strip searching you because they suspect you've got some heroin stashed in a not-so-easy to reach place.

I want to go around whacking people in the head with a silver hammer. When they yell and ask me what the fuck I was thinking I'd say "Nope, you're not dead. Just checking." Then when they start throwing a fit or trying to kick my ass I'd make them feel guilty by saying "If it's good enough for the pope it's certainly good enough for you!"

It's usually pretty easy to make a catholic feel guilty anyway.

I can....almost....reach it....

So, I was driving down the street today. It's hot here right now, really hot. Windows open, sunglasses on. Full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes...oh wait, that's not my life, that's a movie. Anyway, you know how when it's beautiful outside you automatically crave a beer? You start imagining how it looks, ice cold from a cooler, dripping with water; and the more you think about it the more you want it? (please say you know what I mean) So I'm having these thoughts and what do you think I pull up behind? A Coors Light truck. There's a frosty bottle of beer on the back and above it it reads: Would you like a beer? I shouted "YES!"
But nobody gave me one. It was all a big lie. Coors is bent on destroying me. Assholes.

Well, it's begun.

The annual "see how many things you can make with hardboiled eggs" drive.

porn is funny

I was talking to my friend about porn this morning. Pretty random 8am topic of discussion, I know. We were talking about movies and Netflix and the conversation made its way around to porn, as conversations tend to do. I said I saw a porn movie at the liquor store for $20 and wondered who would pay $20 for VHS porn.Then he said "I bought some porn for Jack* and Bobby* for helping me move. I got them Barely Legal; they were $32 each. Of course, that's for like six hours of porn but come on!" I think that's pretty much the funniest thing I've heard so far this year. Apparently within his circle of friends they have the "Two P Rule" when it comes to helping each other move: Pizza and Porn. I think if everyone adopted this rule you'd have more people willing to help you move, don't you think?



*names changed to protect the innocent. or not so innocent, as the case may be.

Another one MIA

Has anyone seen Suburbite? His blog seems to have been abducted.
I think I saw his face on a milk carton today. If he's a 15 year old Hispanic girl who has been digitally aged to show what she will look like present day, that is.

You want me to write, fine I'll write.

The name Crazy Al didn't come out of nowhere. It may have started when we caught him smoking weed in his sleeping bag at 6am and saying good morning to a duck. It may have started when we were river rafting and we hit the side of a boulder the size of a truck, and he was hooting and hollering like an indian on the warpath. It may have started with any number of remembered incidents but I think Crazy Al was Crazy Al way back when he was just Alan. He was wild and crazy and he lived his life like an Eagles song.
He also had the biggest heart you could imagine. He loved his friends and family with the same passion he applied toward every facet of life. He'd always open your beer before handing it to you. He'd always make you smile when you needed it. He taught each of us a lesson about living life to it's fullest and enjoying every moment. He was always going too fast; in his car, on his motorcycle, in his go-cart that he built. I believe that he wanted to experience everything, and knew he had a limited amount of time to do it. He even talked too fast. Like he had so much to say and could never depend on people sticking around to listen until he was finished.
He was 33 when he hit that lightpost going 35 miles an hour on his motorcycle. Three years ago this month. I listened to the stories and watched grown men cry and thought about all the ways we touch and learn from each other in this world. "Never take it for granted" he told me one time. I stood outside and cried and remembered him alone.

It's a Wonderful Life.

You know what I was thinking of this morning as I drove to work? I was thinking how I wished George Bailey would have been able to build his bridges and skyscrapers in the end. It would have been nice to know that he eventually achieved his dream. I know the point of the movie was to appreciate what you have, but the poor guy saved for four years to go to college and ended up using the money to send his brother instead. He really deserved a better ending.

"I'm shakin' the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I'm gonna see the world. Italy, Greece, the Parthenon, the Colosseum. Then, I'm comin' back here to go to college and see what they know. And then I'm gonna build things. I'm gonna build airfields, I'm gonna build skyscrapers a hundred stories high, I'm gonna build bridges a mile long..."

He was so excited. It's a little sad to me that he never got to do it.

The conversation went like this:

Husband: Did you go to the Pink Poodle and put your hands on a stripper about a year and a half ago?
Me: Uh....yeah. (fucking J, dude, why do you have to give me up like that) She took my hands and put them on her.
Husband: Huh. Interesting. I should be home in about an hour.
Me: Ok, see ya.

By far the weirdest conversation I've had in a while. Good times. By the way, if I'm conveying anger or irritation here it's unintentional. This was highly amusing.

Raining again.

But at least I know where I stand when it's raining. My mood will suck and that's that. Yesterday the weather couldn't make up it's mind and I felt a little schizophrenic. It was like this:
Left work it was sprinkling: Mildly irritated
Got to Fed Ex it was raining: Irritated
Got to Target sun was out: Happy
Left Target it was pouring: Pissed off

I sat in my car and said outloud "How is a girl supposed to know what mood to be in when the weather keeps changing?"

Yeah, I sit in my car and talk to myself, so what?
I also just asked my cat if it was raining.

Aw, how sweet

I got this email today from a very old friend of mine. Not that she's old, just that we've been friends for longer than we haven't.

I'm listening to KFOG, and just heard, Hurt so Good, American Girl, and Played it on the Radio (Joe Jackson). Needless to say, I'm thinking of you!

How cute, huh?

Top ten reasons I'm grumpy

1. My sunshine disappeared and now it's windy and rainy.

2. I had to get up too early to hide Easter eggs.
(wait did I say me? I meant the Easter Bunny)

3. I've taken enough Motrin to choke a horse and my left knee is still killing me. (see #1)

4. I just took my last 3 Motrin.

5. Caden started coughing and his pediatrician (whom I adore) is retiring.

6. All the medication I'm on is apparently altering my tastebuds because Diet Coke tastes weird to me all of the sudden.

7. I'm afraid to get my next phone bill.

8. I have a headache.

9. I'm so very bored.

10. And apparently just because I'm a girl.

We took Pete out for a beer last night. My sister bought him some flowers. What can I say, she gets sentimental when she's drunk.

Ok, but seriously. How funny is this?

Check out the big brains on Cindy.

Look what I did! Now you no longer have to have to hold your conversations in my comments section, you can do it right over there in my new shoutbox.
Try it, you'll like it.

And please click here.

And for the more religious readers, click here.

I can't help it, this one's cute too.

Will you please look at how gosh darn cute my kid is? (when he's sleeping)

I find myself brushing my hand along his cheek or down his nose. I hold onto his hand.
I just can't keep my hands off him. He's so cute and so sweet and so full of love.
He also has the greatest laugh.
Sometimes I just can't believe how lucky I am to have such a perfect son.

Friday

Terra, Roy, DJ:

I can no longer sit in this house.
I have to get out or I will go insane.
I'm not contagious anymore.

That being said, Spank is playing at the 5th Quarter tomorrow.

**Also: Cat, is your blog MIA?
Blog on the run.....blog on the run.....

Comments

I've noticed a trend happening with the Haloscan comments. Everyone is all over the comments now that we can comment again. People are commenting multiple times (multiple comments? whew, it's good to be a woman) people are having conversations through the comments on a third person's blog, asking questions, answering questions. It's like we were just released from prison and we hit the Sunday brunch buffet over at Las Guitarras. (mexican restaurant by my mom's house, AWESOME Sunday champagne brunch) Haloscan makes blogging fun again.

Couldn't think of another story, so all you get is some pictures and my sorry ass comments.

Please, Cat, it's so cold out here.


Oh my god Terra, did you just say "does your mom drop it like that"?


A place to hold the blogger company picnic maybe? We can only have so many functions in my backyard.


Someday, EJ will be president. This will be a momentous occasion as she will not only be the first woman president but the first squirrel president as well.


Unfortunately, the title of first monkey president has already been taken.


Oh Cindy, quit being so unpatriotic. You're an asshole. Bush rules. Bush is back? Something like that.


Sadly, Sheila gets many young squirrels hooked on heroin this way. Damn you, Sheila!


A squirrel's brain. Yeah, this doesn't look good.


This is me when I've run out of money at the bar.


Aw, squirrels need love, too. Hidden behind the grass kind of love.


Yo J, thanks for letting me use your skateboard.
Hang on a sec Ken, I'm trying to get that cop's attention.


Is this a warning or the chalk outline of a murdered squirrel? Or both?


This I just thought was cool. Nice ending, don't you think?

Call the CDF

So I finally caved and went to the doctor. My doctor is kind of a hippie and she's very stingy with the antibiotics. She acts like they're coming right out of her pocket. She has her "theories" about over-medicating. Whatever.
I'm kidding, I agree that people shouldn't take antibiotics for every little thing. But does she have to act like I'm stealing from her own personal stash?
Anyway, she thinks it's pneumonia. I got a shot in the arm, two breathing treatments because the first one didn't work, antibiotics (hallelujah), prescriptions for Advair, albuterol, and prednesone, and I had to go to the hospital for a chest x-ray. Holy shit, huh? The weird thing is I don't even feel that bad, I just cough up a lung every now and then. Especially when I laugh. Which ironically, isn't funny.
Did you know that when you have a chest x-ray they make you put little stickers on your nipples? The stickers have little metal balls that show up as white dots in the x-ray, that way if they do see your nipple in the x-ray they don't call you and say "we're very sorry, you have cancer". I don't think the x-ray tech was very comfortable saying the word nipple to me, but he was sure as hell comfortable manipulating my body for the "perfect" position. Or maybe this was a special x-ray tech, like Joey and his tailor. Oh, and he said I have nice, big.....lungs.
Really. Apparently some people have small lungs and some people have big ones. I think it's a good thing, right? I don't have to join the carnival quite yet?
So I will be home tomorrow. No work for me. Not because I don't feel up to going but because nobody wants me there. What, you get an infectuous disease and all of the sudden nobody wants to be around you? Sheesh.

Who's house? Run's house.

Does anyone else get the urge to sing You be Illin' when you see J's comments around?

"Yo J"
widee widee wee
widee wee weer
(that's scratching, in case you didn't know)

The strangest thing just happened

I was in the backyard and it started to rain. I could look to the right and see a bunch of raindrops, look to the left and see just a few raindrops, and it wasn't raining on me at all. Also, the sun was out.
Weird.

Did you hear they're starting a new reality show with Farah Fawcett? Does anyone really care about Farah Fawcett? Is anyone else bothered by the name Fawcett?

I love to sit in my chair on Sundays and look through the ads that come in the newspaper. First, I set everything on the ottoman and go through it, separating the ads I read from the ones I don't care about. OCD, you know. Then I flip through the "good" ads. I always start at the end though and turn the pages backwards. Just a habit. They're having a great sale on hair products at JCPenneys. I don't shop at JCPenneys though. I don't know why. I'm not fundamentally against JCPenneys. It may have something to do with the fact that I don't know where there is a JCPenneys around here, but I'm pretty sure if I wanted to find out I could. I'm a smart girl. Every time I see JCPenneys I'm reminded of a girl I used to be friends with in third grade, her initials are JCP. Funny how those things stick with you. I think I'd like to see how many times I can write JCPenneys in one post. The other half of the paper is still in the driveway. You know, the part that actually contains the news? I used to care about it when Dave Barry had a column, but he's a damn quitter and the guy they replaced him with isn't nearly as funny. Definitely not worth going out there and risking a conversation with my neighbors at 7:30am.

I love coffee.
I love the sun.
I love that my house is silent right now.

Bitches and Gentlemen, it's showtime!

Hurry, hurry, step right up. Introducing the star of our show, his name is blogger.
(Am I getting a little carried away with the Eminem quotes lately, or what?)

Ok, I think I've done all I can to the Blogger CD. I apologize if your song did not make it. I was unable to convert any iTunes songs, and I had so many that I could only use one song per person, so if you sent me more than one I just chose the one I liked the best. The only exception to that rule would be Grace. Not because I love her more than the rest of you, but because she sent two rad songs that I couldn't choose between. So OFFICIALLY one of the songs is my pick and one is hers, since I couldn't even choose one for myself. (don't get a big head over this, Grace) I may have also taken a few liberties with the songs, some of them I was sent a while ago and just decided to use them and attach your name to it. (Cat, Ian, etc.) They are all from fellow bloggers, however, so I'm sticking to the original plan. You know me, always keeping it real. If you'd like a copy of the CD just email me an address to send it to. chamil10@aol.com I don't know how to get all fancy with the labels and shit so it's just going to have Blogger CD written on it with a Sharpie. I love Sharpies. If it's good enough for me, it's good enough for you! If you ever feel like reciprocating, you can burn me a CD of your choice. I promise not to sell your address to a marketing company. I cannot, however, promise I won't stalk you. Sometimes when I read your blogs I get a little out of control.

So without further ado, I bring to you....

The best CD a bunch of bloggers could come up with.

1. Eric B is President byEric B and Rakim, 8zero8
2. E-Pro by Beck, Cindy-Lou (thanks, Grace!)
3. Whitfield by Atomship, Ken Kenniff
4. In the Shadows by The Rasmus, Joanne
5. Pretend We're Dead by L7, JD Namroh
6. Ban Marriage by Hidden Cameras, Joel
7. No Ring on These Fingers by The Bravery, El Sid
8. Weapon by Matthew Good, Building
9. Jaded by Melissa McClelland, Cat
10. Full of Grace by Sarah McLachlan, EJ
11. Sacrifice by Anouk, Just a Girl
12. Stop Your Crying by Spiritualized, Chris-Face
13. When I See You Smile by Bic Runga, Ian
14. Spin by Lifehouse, Veronica
15. Find Me, Ruben Oliveras by Mark Kozelek, Duckie
16. Wind by Child's Play, YankeeBob
17. Six Days by DJ Shadow, Grace
18. Alright by John Legend, TerraT
19. Yeah by Usher, Roy Hobbs

Tell me something

Did I really just see spinners on a minivan?

I just realized something

All this talk about the Blogger CD, and I haven't even decided what song to put on for my pick. I do know, however, that whatever I choose will be in mp3 format and not iTunes. I'm so good to me. I'm still trying to get "There She Goes" by the La's and "Ol' 55" by Tom Waits. Anyone? Anyone? Non-iTunes format? Please?

The iPod is ruining my life.

Week of Fears

On Sunday I was cleaning up around the house. I lifted some newspaper off the table and there was a spider underneath. It was just sitting there, it didn't move at all. It was so big that I stared at it for a minute wondering if it was one of the plastic bugs Caden has. I finally decided it was real and went to the backdoor to yell for my husband. He came running in thinking I was dying. I got yelled at a little bit for that one. When I got back it was gone. He found it and killed it, but I still had that squirmy, crawling all over me feeling for a while. I kept shaking my hair and clothes, making sure there was no spider on me. Big, reddish, kind of see-through spider. Ugh.
Fear #1: spiders

On Monday I was here at the computer while my husband was working on the front room. He had to cut the power to that room to work on the lights but ended up accidentally cutting the power to the whole house. I sat here in the pitch black room, frozen. I could feel my heart speed up and my breathing speed up. Finally, what seemed like hours later, the lights came back on. I heard a "sorry" from the other room. He got yelled at a little bit for that one.
Fear #2: the dark

Thank goodness I escaped my dentist appointment yesterday, that would have just been too much for me to handle. I could just imagine the rest of my week.

Tuesday: dentist
Wednesday: pop-open can of biscuits
Thursday: airplane

What's next, cancer on Friday?

Illegal music

I am LOVING my blogger music! It makes me dance. It's funny because a lot of the songs are stuff I would never chose to listen to, yet I'm enjoying them a lot. I've never been an R&B person, but I like the two I got. I'm not so much a rap person or a metal person but I really like those songs too. Just goes to show that opening your mind can pay off. I should try it more often. Just not with food.

Waiting on a couple more songs, then you can all share my happiness.

I'm home sick today. Nobody is allowed to make me laugh because it makes me cough. So, can you all be boring please? My lungs will thank you.
Does coffee count as fluids when you're sick?

Pick up the red phone, dammit!

I've never been so happy to be sick in my life. This cold has granted me temporary reprieve from the dentist. Even that word makes me shudder. I was supposed to have a teeth cleaning today but I cancelled because I'm sure they don't want my germ-infested mouth anywhere near them. Plus, my sister was supposed to watch Caden but she was just informed she has strep throat. (Ok, happy to have a cold, will not be happy if I have strep) When I flipped the calendar to March and noticed the appointment my stomach instantly recoiled and I thought I was going to vomit. The DENTIST???? NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Thank goodness for the virus. My tension level has been steadily increasing all month. Now I can sit back and relax. Thank you cold virus. I'll gladly take your headache, your phlegm, your cough. I'll give you my energy. I'll give you my appetite. I have to repay you somehow.
I know that I will inevitably have to call back and reschedule the appointment. For now though, I'm just going to enjoy the time I have. I feel like Arnold called that red phone right before they flipped the switch. Thank you, Arnold. Hooray for my stay of execution.
Going to the dentist for me is like spending time at the gym. By the time I leave my muscles are sore from being tensed up the entire time. Even my toes are tense. I also have little crescents dug into my skin everywhere from my fingernails. It's quite appealing. Palms, backs of my hands, arms, wherever my hands happen to be. I don't even realize I'm doing it. Never thought of myself as a self-mutilation kind of girl. The dentist I have now is very understanding, however, and has done what he can to make me more comfortable.
Before:

Dentist: Hi Cindy, I'm just going to....are you ok?
Cindy: Is it the tears? The tears gave it away, right? Yeah, ok I'm a little stressed out right now. Dentist: Would you like me to prescribe some Valium?

Now it's:

Dentist: How are you doing today, Cindy?
Cindy: Oh hi Dr Dave, yeah I'm doing better. My fingernails are still digging into my palms but this time they're not bleeding. It's great. Thanks for the Valium. By the way, have I ever told you how cute you look with those two earrings in your left ear? Can I watch Chicken Run while you work?

One day soon I will have to pick up the phone and dial that number.
One day soon I will have to hold my head up high and walk through those doors again.
One day soon I will have to slide onto that chair without throwing up.

But not today, haha!

My opinion

I think a sense of humor should be a requirement for all bloggers.

So demanding

Ok, ok, I'll post the songs, sheesh, relax. Aw, I'm teasing you, Ken. I haven't exactly made the list yet, so I have nothing to post anyway. But the collection is GREAT so far, I'm very happy with all the songs. If anyone else wants to participate just email me your song (THE MP3, PEOPLE!) in the next day or so. I will post the final list in a couple days. Then if anyone is interested just let me know and I can burn you a copy. Gee, I hope the FBI doesn't show up at my house. DeeJay.

chamil10@aol.com

(yeah, I still use AOL, what of it?)

Hi Jamie. I guess you heard Nigella's out of the picture. Yeah, it looks like we'll be needing a replacement. How about you audition for me tonight? Okay, see you at nine.
By the way, I love the way you hold that pestle.

10 for 10

tblue posted diez cosas [rapidamente]
Here are his 10 things with my responses below them.


1. i lost my license to drive for ten years due to my inability to stop street racing. [they mean it!!]
1. I have received two speeding tickets and one illegal left turn ticket. All before the age of 22. I've been following the law ever since. Or maybe I just haven't been caught.

2. i rode with the haro boys while still a teen. [and continually got smoked going full/out up a hill while my dudes sat on their handle/bars and lazily pedaled backwards.]
2. I don't know who the haro boys are, but I once flipped over the handlebars of my bike and landed in the juniper bushes.

3. i tried out for the mtn. bike shit at the x-games and ended/up having six broken teeth removed by an oral surgeon after some tricky foreigner grabbed my brake as i passed him.
3. I have never even watched the X-Games and I had all four wisdom teeth removed by an oral surgeon when I was 17.

4. i sat behind maurice clarrett in math. [yes, i'm stupid!]
4. In 1st grade I sat next to a kid named Mark, and people would make a Mork and Mindy reference when they said our names together, Mark and Cindy.

5. i had someone try to rob stuff out of my backpack in port authority in manhattan while i was sitting on it.
5. I don't use public transportation. I'm a snob that way.

6. i talked to biz markee for half an hour in the kfc under times square.
6. I was in an elevator with Simon LeBon and held his cake.

7. i thought my name was bmx faggot [other variations include: skr8 faggot, punk faggot and raver faggot] for several years after i quit playing the sports you're supposed to.
7. I thought I was half Mexican and half wolf when I was 5.

8. i stayed awake for six days once.
8. I can't stay awake for more than one day, but then again, I've never done crank.

9. i got married to my wife while she was preggers. [shhh.]
9. I hate the word preggers.

10. i tested into the top percentile for the verbal on my gre and got the lowest possible score on the math. [never believe that bullshit about guessing c when you don't know. it's a lie to keep you from columbining the test moderators b4 you leave the lecture hall!]
10. I got an A in my Speech class at Sacramento City College because the teacher threw a fit and quit a month before the end of school. Everyone got A's.

Gossamer dreams

I have to congratulate Terra on guessing the answer to my dream question. Given the choice between the $10 or two shots of Patron, well you know which she chose. Karaoke and tequila, is there anything better to do on a Friday night? Throw a little sex into the mix and I'd say you have yourself a pretty good party.

On with the dream.......

There was more to this at the beginning, but it has little to do with the rest of the dream. It also makes no sense, of course, being a dream. I mean, I hate sports. So why would I be going to a major league basball game? Without YB, I mean? Anyway, after the game I was supposed to meet two friends at Banana Republic. Why Banana Republic? I'm sure I have no idea. It didn't really look like a Banana Republic, either. It was very big and smelled like musty books. There was a fuschia hue throughout the whole place, like a small dance club. It actually looked like that thrift store on San Carlos called Moon Zoom. So I was there with my friend Kim, waiting for these other two friends and I wanted to look at shoes. Naturally. There were tons of shoes for little girls but only four or five kinds for women, so I asked a saleswoman where all the shoes were. She kind of smiled and said she could show me her "hidden stash" and lead us to a small closet. She opened opened it and pulled up a trap door in the floor then left us alone. There weren't very many shoes in there but there were a bunch of old pictures and tapes and CDs. We found a cassette tape with a picture Joel on the front. He was sitting on a couch with a guitar in his lap and the picture was blurred a little, colors smeared to the side.

It sort of looked like this picture of John Mayer. Only in color and he was looking to the left.

I said to Kim that he had told me about that tape, he and Dane and Jermey had put it together some songs and sent it to some producers. They had only made like four copies though, and he didn't have one anymore. I was looking at the back, it was made in 1994. Apparently Joel had not hit it big with the tape, but I wanted it. So Kim and I went over to ask the saleswoman if I could buy it. The last part is very long and not very exciting so to sum it up: No, I couldn't buy it so Kim stole it for me.

There you have it. A dream about a blogger. Terra gets tequila with training wheels. Ha!

I LUV BLOGGER (2)

The comments thing is pissing me off, so I'm going to do what Grace did and post all my comments here.

Ken: Giving new meaning to the phrase "charmed the pants off her"

J: Awesome post, my vote goes to Tracy. More believable.

YankeeBob: 85% isn't bad, I still respect you. and you have to go with the PJ bottoms. T-shirt optional.

Ian: Since nobody else knows Japanese either just pretend. That's probably what that teacher was doing anyway.

Joe: Is there really such a thing as too many lightsaber as penis references?

Autumn: My stripper name is Scandal and my porn star name is Candy Cox. Also: sleep with a guy on the first date. Who cares.

Steve: Love the new template. Love the phrase: now that I rely upon it for masochism and a sense of accomplishment. I want a moon that looks like that shark.

Lightning Bug: I'm adventurous and spunky. I hope you're generous and free spirited. Also love the profile pic.

Blog Ho: Excellent handling of the anonymous commenter, I award you with the golf clap. *clap clap clap* (not the clap, as in the STD, I try to avoid STD's as a rule) Enjoy your vacation!

Cat: It's strep throat. Go to the doctor!

That's it for now. If you're not here that means either I have nothing worthwhile to say or you have haloscan. If you don't have haloscan....get haloscan!

I'm going to drink tonight.

Point of view

I work on the second floor of my building and we have big windows all along the side of the room. I was just walking back to get my Capri Sun and looked down at a car parked at the curb. You could see right down this woman's tank top so of course I pointed it out to my co-workers.
For some reason I felt this was blog-worthy. I'm starting to re-think that idea.

I have to say (yet again) Roy Hobbs rocks. Not only does that guy get me safely home when I'm a drunk fool, but he can convert iTunes to mp3's for me. w00t!

I luv Blogger

Dear Friends,

Do you feel like checking out Haloscan for your comments? I keep getting a "Blog not found" response and I'm quite happy with my Haloscan.
Just thought I'd throw it out there!

Love, Cindy

P.S. Keep sending me songs, this is turning out great.

P.P.S. I'm not neglecting anyone, I promise.

Just remember:

No matter how much you hate your job, at least you're not standing on the corner in a giant Quizno's cup right now.

A call to arms

I have a request for all my blogger friends. I'd like you all to email me a song. I need some new music and I thought it would be cool to see if I can get together a blogger CD. If it turns out to be any good I will make you all copies. I'm cool like that.
chamil10@aol.com
Just don't send me any viruses!

**In case you didn't see it
Email me the song.
**The actual song, an mp3. Not just the title. If you have the song in your arsenal attach it to the email. Okay?

Thanks.
Cindy

Ponder

I wonder why Terra has a missing post?

Kids these days

I bought one of those Bratz babies for my niece today. Not the regular Bratz doll but the baby Bratz doll. I would never choose that as a gift but she specifically requested one, and who am I to refuse a kid? I don't get these things. I don't think I'd like my kid to have anything to do with these dolls. I mean, they're great for blog posts on Peevishness and Botheration, but that's about it. Who really wants a doll dressed like a slut?

pictures

I started a side blog for my pictures. Now don't get all excited, there will be no pictures of me, just pictures I take. You read my words here, occasionally hear me speak, now you can see what I see here. I've added a link on my sidebar as well. I'm too lazy to add them all tonight, so I'll be updating soon.

What's $10 Canadian?

I'll never tell......

(said in skanky Brittany Murphy voice from Don't Say a Word)




P.S.
I think I will post random questions and never answer them all the time. This was fun.

I could never live in Seattle

Much better mood today, the sun is out and it's 67 degrees. At least, AOL tells me it's 67 degrees, all I know is it's gorgeous outside and it felt great to sit in the sun for a while. Even driving is a better experience when the sun is out. Some retard was blocking the lane when the light turned green so nobody could go until his light turned, and I wasn't even mad at him. Sure, I called him a dick but my heart wasn't in it.
I went out with Terra T again last night, man that girl is a good time. The band that played at the Brit was good, but of course I can't remember their name. The played good dancing music though, that's important. I had no choice but to get down, down, down, down....
I figured something out on my way home yesterday, too. It's impossible to be in a bad mood when you listen to Jamiroquai.

Uh oh, I almost forgot to wish Roy Hobbs a happy birthday!

game on

I had a dream about a blogger last night.
$10 if you can guess who it was.

Thursday, March 3rd (I'm going to be doing this all day)

6:00 am: Caden crawls into bed with me, tells me we're best friends.
6:20 am: Get tired of the wiggling and give up on more sleep.
6:30 am: Start The Emperor's New Groove and a pot of coffee.
8:00 am: Roll Hot Wheels across the kitchen floor.
8:30 am: Annoy Caden by singing the "Welcome Christmas" song from the Grinch movie.
8:45 am: Coffee has kicked in.
9:00 am: Put in the Offspring CD and dance with Caden to "Pretty Fly for a White Guy".
9:20 am: Switch to Will Smith and dance to "Gettin' Jiggy With It" and "Miami".
9:40 am: Decide to blog about my day thus far.

10:00 am: Back to the Hot Wheels, third cup of coffee, Paul Simon "Me and Julio" playing.
10:20 am: Talked to mother-in-law, set dates for visit. Yay.
10:22 am: Caden peed on the floor in the bathroom. "Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes" is on.
10:30 am: Decide to finally get dressed, my jeans seem tighter than usual. Hm.

11:15 am: Put gas in my car, remember the days you could fill your tank with $10.
11:30 am: Grocery shopping with Caden. Received OK to buy carrots. Was asked to explain tampons. Answer: Something mommies need.
12:15 pm: Opened trunk to put groceries in, remembered trunk is full of luau decorations.
12:18 pm: Heard "Love me" by the Cardigans on the radio, was informed by Caden that he doesn't like girl songs he only likes songs where boys sing.

1:00 pm: As promised, Caden takes one bite of a carrot. He then sits with it in his mouth crying for five minutes until he makes himself gag and throws up on his plate.
1:30 pm: He's down for a nap and I think I will join him.

2:00 pm: Took a nap.
2:40 pm: Phone rang and woke me up.
3:00 pm: Watched Las Vegas from a week ago, man I love that show.
3:52 pm: Need to start thinking about dinner. Something without carrots.

4:20 pm: Got high. Just kidding, complained about my husband to my sister.
4:45 pm: Start dinner. Chicken, broccoli, baked potatoes.
5:00 pm: Warn the neighbor kid that the cat may bite while secretly hoping she bites him so he'll go home.

5:20 pm: Burned my hand on a cookie sheet. Just a little.
6:30 pm: Wonder where everyone is, blogs are slow today.
7:40 pm: Get irritated because I can't post a comment on Nina's blog.

9:00 pm: Put Caden in his "cooooozy jammies". His favorite green ones with the dinosaurs.
9:30 pm: Someone's bedtime.....
9:38 pm: Finally unpack my carry-on from the trip to Florida. Yes, I know.

10:00 pm: Get coffeepot ready for tomorrow, get clothes ready for tomorrow. I'm secure in my OCD, absolutely. My shoes are even out with my socks tucked into them.
10:35 pm: End IM conversation with Michelle, take out contacts, brush teeth, and GO TO BED. Caden got me up too early and I stayed up too late last night.

The End.

Tivo. My friend. My enemy.

I'm feeling pressured by my Tivo lately. I have all these CSI's on there, waiting for me. I have so many episodes of Carnivale that the season will end before I even catch up. I have two movies, Monster and Along Came Polly. I'm half way though the Oscars or Academy Awards or whatever you call that awards show that was on the other night. Now Tivo is telling me it doesn't have room to save something as long as I want it to. How dare it defy me? I'm the one in charge, I make the rules. I programmed you Tivo, and I can easily unplug you. OR....
Maybe Tivo knows that I can't actually unplug it. Tivo has the drop on me, boy. It knows I wouldn't give up my shows that easily. Who's in charge now?

anything but the knees

I'm reading a book right now called Dark Horse. One of those someone gets murdered someone gets kidnapped let's figure out who dunnit kind of books. Some Russians just beat the crap out of a guy, well deserved but still brutal. The thing that gets to me is the description of someone getting their kneecaps broken. It just makes me cringe to read about someone taking a sledgehammer to someone's knees. Maybe it's because I have knee issues myself, but I can't imagine how horrifying it would be. I can handle reading about all the other stuff, getting kicked in the face, smashed with a baseball bat, but there's something about the knees that just kills me. I read a book once where the bad guys drove stakes through a woman's knees into the floor. That was the worst. Fuck! Can you even imagine? It turns my stomach. Even reading about Joel curbing Dane wasn't as bad as the knee thing. Sure, it was sad, but what kind of low-life steals a Shrek Pez dispenser?

Hey Cat, here's a picture of the puppy I sent you.

I'm stuck

On these lyrics to "Unquiet" by Toad the Wet Sprocket:

I am taught but I
Never learn a thing
I'm not deaf but I
Can't hear everything
A quiet world
Unquiet
I am strong but I
Never move a thing
I have words but I
Lack the voice to sing
A quiet world
Unquiet
I would sell the world
Would I...
I am fast but I
Never move at all
I have sight but I
Never choose to show
A quiet world
Unquiet
I would sell the world
Would I...
A quiet world
Unquiet

It's Sunday, where's the sun?

I think Sunday is my least favorite day of the week. It should be a nice relaxing day but I find myself thinking of it as "the day before I have to go to work". So instead of enjoying the day, I'm more worried about what I need to get done before work tomorrow. Even Mondays are better because at least you know where you stand on a Monday. It's a work day. Sunday is my finish up the housework and laundry day. Blah!
I just poured myself another cup of coffee. I shouldn't have another; when your hands are shaking as you pour the coffee that should be a pretty good indication that you've had enough. Yet I still drink it. I hate dumping coffee, it seems like such a sin to waste it.
I hung out with Terra T on Friday. I told her we should both blog about how much we hated each other but I just can't do it. I had too much fun. I hope she doesn't think I'm a total lush though, I got pretty drunk. It was completely her fault, forcing shots of Patron on me. I swear I was an innocent bystander, she practically twisted my arm off. Really.....
It's cool to have a blogger in the area. And she lives right down the street from me too! I just don't know if I'll be able to keep up with her. Maybe if I learn how to say no to the tequila. I need to say a big THANK YOU to Roy Hobbs for driving my drunk ass home. He's quite a guy, that Roy. Didn't even try to take advantage of me either. (at least not that I can remember...)
Just teasing, Roy. I owe you one.
I've been seeing more and more audioblogging lately. I like it. I think it's funny how people always seem to start their audio posts with "Hey everyone, so-and-so here...." as if we don't know who's talking. I did it too, so I can't really say anything. It's just funny. I won't do it next time though. If I can help myself. Anyway, the dryer just buzzed so......

Insanity is hereditary, isn't it?

I need some advice, blog buddies! My mother is driving me crazy. Here is a little back story.....
My mom hates her sister, we'll call her D. This goes back a long time, they haven't really been on speaking terms for years. I couldn't even tell you why, one reason being I have a very bad memory and the other is I really don't care so much. Anyway, my mom thinks that her daughters need to subscribe to the "your enemy is my enemy" theory. We're not supposed to see D. One sister of mine, E, sees D quite a bit, and this pisses my mom off to no end. What she doesn't know is I occasionally see D as well, I just don't tell mom about it. The reason I will make plans with her is because she has a daughter M who is close to Caden's age and they like each other. I don't think it's a rediculous thing to want Caden to know his cousins, especially since this is the only cousin near his age. Well, technically she's MY cousin, but that's not the point. So my sister E brought up the subject of M being the flower girl for my other sister's wedding. She was stupid enough to mention it TO OUR MOM. I don't know what in the hell she was thinking, sometimes I think she likes to cause drama, but that's not the point either. The point is this. My mom told E that if she continues to see D then mom will effectively shut her out of her life, and told her that my other sister and I will do the same. This makes me angry because my mom has no right to tell my sister that I would EVER cut her out of my life. I would never do that, and my mom is crazy for even thinking it. My problem is that I never stand up to my mom. I just ignore the things she says and pretty much move past it, change the subject, distract her with tales of Caden. It always works, and I get to avoid the drama that way. This thing with my sister is bugging me though, and I want to tell her that it made me mad that she told E that. I just don't know if it's worth it. It will blow up into a big deal, my mom has a way of turning everything into a big war. So do I let this go the way I let everything go? I will eventually forget about it, it's a benefit of the bad memory thing. Or do I stand up for once and tell my mom how I feel?

Spank is the name of the band

I'm going to see a friend's band Friday night, do a little dancing, a little drinking. Maybe a lot of drinking. Yeah, a lot of drinking. Calling a cab to get home kind of drinking.
This is the email they sent out:

Hi, we'd like to (tequila) invite you to (rock and roll) a little gathering of friends (chicks) on Friday the 25th of (guys) February over at a nice little (Jack Daniels) place in San Jose called the 5th Quarter. The band SPANK will be (Big Beers) performing for your entertainment. Most bands use gimmicks to lure their fans out (women dancing with women) to a show, or even psycho hypnotic brain washing and (Llama Bondage kits and naked Llama booth coupons to first 3 fans) brain washing. Not us, we understand that you have (Johnnie Walker) plenty of other things to do (chuck e Cheese next door) rather than spend a night at a bar listening to some (mini skirts) 2 bit garage band, so we suggest (big huge long..........music sets) you spend Friday night the 25th of February (Dancing) starting at 9pm with us....S P A N K!!!! We will (%$#@*&^) rock you on til the wee-hours of the morning. Golly gee, no matter how (bet on drunken earthworm racing) you slice it, we guarantee you will have a swell (Face painting and tongue hammering tent) time. So we'll see you then!!!

Sounds like fun, doesn't it? I just love drunken earthworm racing, what a high. I invited Terra to go, but I haven't heard back yet. I hope she knows I don't take rejection well. Oh, just kidding, Terra. Also: not a stalker. I swear. I don't even know where you live, heh heh heh.

P.S. I love Toad the Wet Sprocket.

The concert

Xavier Rudd in two words: Fucking Amazing.
This was one of the best shows I have ever been to. That man is so talented it blew me away. I knew he played all the instruments himself, I just didn't realize he played them all at the same time. He was up there by himself with all his instruments around him playing his little heart out. It sounded like there were five guys up there with him. Have you ever heard a didjeridu?
It is: A musical instrument of the Aboriginal peoples of Australia, consisting of a long hollow branch or stick that makes a deep drone when blown into.
It also sends chills down your spine and makes your heart vibrate when you're in a small room with one. It's a very powerful instrument. Here's a picture of Xavier on stage, this is pretty much what he looked like last night.

Go to Xavier Rudd's website and take a listen. You can listen to his songs and even watch a video. The video is a really cool song called the 12th of September. You will be impressed. His hair looks a little weird, but that doesn't matter, he's still awesome! You may also want to check out his tour schedule. Even if it's not the sort of music you would normally listen to it's still a great show. I even paid $25 for a tank top, that's how good he is.

Yes, yes, I'm still here.

My life has been very uninteresting these days, so nothing to post about. Late winter blah's maybe? I think a lot of people are experiencing this. The sun finally came out today though, and there are some birds in my backyard either trying to kill each other or getting it on, I can't tell which. I don't think I want to know.
My cable has been out since Friday. I waited until yesterday for it to spontaneously fix itself, but that didn't happen so I finally made the call. They gave me the 8-12 window, so I wrote "Cable guy, 8-12" on my dry erase board. Surprisingly prompt, my cable girl showed up around 10. She went about her business as I discreetly erased the board, not wanting to appear sexist. Why I thought she'd care, I have no idea. Anyway, cable is up and running now and I am getting my $90 worth. Just in time for Scrubs tonight!
I read a comic in the newspaper, a guy was sitting at the computer and the computer said to him "I deleted that so-called creative writing you did last night. Let's stick with accounting" or something like that. The first thought in my head was "he's going to have to back up his writing on a disk from now on" like THAT was the point of the comic. I had to laugh at myself. The way my mind works....
I'm going to San Francisco to see Xavier Rudd tonight. I'm quite excited about this. He is an awesome musician, and the venue is small which always makes a concert better. I have to work early tomorrow so I've offered to be the designated driver. I would never be able to get up at 5:45am if I went out drinking. I'm too old for that. Used to be that I could party the night away and still get to work the next morning but those days are long gone. I'll have to hold out until Friday. Man, this getting old sucks.
I hope everyone enjoyed their weekend, I'll have to snoop around the blogs now and catch up on all your lives. See ya!

You know what they say about laughter.

You can't have manslaughter without it! (I think I saw that on a T-shirt somewhere) No, I'm kidding, it's the very best medicine. What is it about making someone laugh that can make you feel so good? I just love it when I make people laugh, it's like touching them somehow. We all know laughing feels good, so it's like a present to be able to give that to someone else. Especially when you make someone who you think is really funny laugh. I would have these great three-way conversations with Joel and Ben and I would be cracking up the whole time. (yeah I said three-way, get your minds out of the gutter) On the odd occasion I could make the two of them laugh it was like a great personal accomplishment. It was like, hey I made these two funny people laugh! I was very proud of myself at those moments. Even if there were only one or two of those moments. My son is the same way, too. He loves to make people laugh. He is my son in more ways than just the fact that I gave birth to him. And he was nine and a half pounds at birth so that was no easy feat, I tell you! He's a total ham, always going for the laugh. Unfortunately, he thinks the word butt is hilarious. I'm such an ineffective parent that I end up laughing when he says things like butt-head, too. It's impossible to instill good manners in your kid when you laugh at the rude things he does or says. I'll admit it, I can act like a ten year old boy at times. Potty humor can be funny, right? I'm not alone in this. Otherwise there wouldn't be any Jim Carrey movies and Animal House wouldn't be so popular. But it's not just potty humor that you laugh at with that nagging guilt. It's also the rest of the un-PC humor that we all like but feel bad when we laugh. Mike knows what I'm talking about. Seriously, go read his post and tell me you don't laugh. It's okay, we all did. Midgets are funny too, when Billy Bob Thornton knocked down that midget in the boxing ring in Bad Santa I could have died laughing. I felt slightly guilty laughing at a midget. Not bad enough to stop myself from backing it up and watching it again though. No, I say laugh loud and often. It keeps you young.

Chonies

I bought my first pair of boyshort underwear. So far I'd have to say thumbs up. I need more time to get used to the feeling that I have shorts on under my jeans though. These may be a skirt kind of underwear and not a jeans kind of underwear. I will give it a chance though because they're cute. I suppose this is what guys go through when they reach a certain age and make that switch from briefs to boxers. It's probably a peculiar feeling for a while then once they get used to it it's impossible to think of ever going back. At least that's what I hear.

So you want to be a writer?

A friend of mine gave me a bunch of books a few weeks ago. I was completely out of reading material so I snatched them up faster than a prostitute takes money off the nightstand. Having finished all of the interesting books in the bag I was left with three books by Nora Roberts. I am a book whore, and I will read most anything I can get my hands on, even Nora Roberts as a last resort. These books are the most rediculous, trite, banal pieces of work I have ever read. And I've read a lot of books. She uses the same formula in every book, at least the three I read. Yeah, I read them all, what can I say. I already admitted I'm a book whore, and trashy smut is better than no smut at all. I mean no book at all. If you would like to be a New York Times bestselling author, all you have to do is follow her method, which I will describe here:

Beautiful Girl has a predisposed notion about Powerful Man. They meet for the first time, he knows who she is, she does not know he is PM whom she dislikes. They share a kiss.

BG: Oh, you scoundrel, you deliberately took advantage!
PM: You're so beautiful when you're angry.

BG works for PM. PM exploits the position of power. They kiss a few more times. BG falls in love with PM. PM loves himself but wants to have sex with BG.

BG: I have to stop loving him because he can never love me; we're from different worlds.
PM: Look at me, I'm a total asshole. But how handsome I am...

BG throws herself into her work trying to forget PM. PM finally does a magnanimous act, proving he isn't a complete asshole.

BG: Oh, how I love you!
PM: Oh, how I love me, I mean you!

BG and PM live happily ever after.

Two final notes: BG must be a virgin and PM must be at least 10 years older than BG.

The End.

God, I sound like a tard.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

Holy cow, check out the shirt I just ordered!


Can you believe I found a shirt this cool? If any of you other squirrels or squirrel lovers would like to order, you can pick one up here. Thanks goes to Adam, for emailing me this link. I will keep an eye open for a squirrel binder for you Ken, but maybe this can fill the void until we locate one. That or a shirt that says Only for Girls. Hee hee.


This is a shirt I ordered a while ago, but I still haven't worn anywhere. I just can't think of the right function for this shirt! I brought it to Florida with me, but since there is a church every two miles, I thought it might be a bad idea. It still cracks me up though. I wonder, what would Jesus do for a Klondike bar? You can get this and many other fabulous shirts at T-Shirt Hell. I totally want the one that says Easy Like Sunday Morning. That's hilarious.

Idiot!

So my car wouldn't start this morning. I took the 4-Runner to work instead. I like driving a bigger car, I feel powerful! I'm not very good at it though. Especially parking. Parking is definitely not my strong point. I get to work and I'm already shopping for a new car. I'm like, if my car is broken I'm TOTALLY getting a Magnum. I like those Magnums. When I was in Florida, Ang and I were talking about cars and she said "You know what car I kind of like?" and I said "The Magnum!" And yeah, she was talking about the Magnum. Funny when you can read someone's mind like that. I was online, shopping for my Magnum, in my head I'm already driving the thing. Turns out I just had no gas in my car. What a dink.


Dude, it's got a Hemi.

Happy birthday, little sister!

Well, my baby sister is turning 27 this Valentine's Day. Twenty seven. Seems like just a couple years ago she was wearing a cheerleading skirt and just a few years before that we were hiding out in the laundry hamper to avoid our older sister's beatings. I have to say, my life wouldn't be as good as it is now without her in it. She is my best friend in the world. She is someone I can talk to without fear of judgement. She understands me like nobody else, and I am grateful every day to have her as my sister. Plus, she's a whole lot of fun!

We went to Brittania Arms on Friday for an early birthday celebration. Looks like fun, doesn't it? Yeah, Krissy and her buddy El Patron thought so, too.
(left to right: Krissy, Elaina, Cindy)

Happy birthday to the coolest little sister anyone could ask for. I love you.

I'm going to reconsider some stuff

I could stand to shave a few years off this age, huh? Maybe I should engage in some higher risk behavior. Start drinking more, maybe. Have some casual sex. Bungie jump. Hang out with Terra.

Florida was fun but I'm glad to be home

Well, Florida was great. The weather was perfect, we went to the beach twice. My toes have been missing the sand. It was a good thing we went twice because from the looks of things around here it will be a while before I can get over to the beach in Aptos. Can you believe I came home to this rainy weather? What a buzzkill.
We never made it to Disneyworld. We were too thrown off by the time change, and Monday was the only day we had for that. So add to that the amount of beer consumed at the superbowl party we went to, and there was no getting up early for me.
Beer = fun. Vodka + rum = eeek.
Ang is doing great. Thought you'd all want to know. Oh, and I was wondering if maybe you guys thought Ang was a weird name, so I thought I should let you know her name is Angela but we call her Ang. Because if you call her Angie you risk losing an eye.
We went to Busch Gardens instead, since we woke up so late. It was fun, and guess who I saw there! Yes, I ran into J. That little devil came right up to me and put her little squirrel hand on my sweatshirt.


J came a little too close.


So I threw her some popcorn. I hope she's having a good time in Florida.

Well, it's Saturday now, I've lagged on this post. I keep adding to it then saving as draft again and again. The sun is out today, Florida really has some competition on the weather again. Ok, well I'm finally going to publish this bugger and move on. Florida has lost my interest. We all know I'm a California girl at heart anyway.

Fuck off, Blogger

I have been back from Florida for hours now (although I did take a nap, so you can't count that hour and a half) and I've been unable to post a comment to anyone's blog. So here is my official fuck you to Blogger, I'm adding Haloscan comments. You guys should try it. The only comments I've been able to leave are through this. OK, so I've only left one. Blah.

A proper Florida post will follow, when I've had more coffee.
Also, when Blogger gets over it's hissy fit.

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

Bienvenidos a Miami

Well, not Miami exactly, more like Tampa. I'll be gone until next week, I'm off to visit Ang, Mickey Mouse, and the beach. Oh, fun fun fun. I'm very excited. Not so much for the Disneyworld part, although Cat will be appalled to hear it. I'm happy to be going to see Ang. She's my best friend, and she moved to Florida in December of 2001. I've only been out there once, for Halloween 2003. Or was it 2002? I can't remember, but it was FUN. That was the trip where the airline tried to kill me, twice. First by having an engine go out, and having to make the emergency landing in Nashville. Then, by having me late for the connection in Dallas, forcing me to spend the night. In a DRY COUNTY. That's right people, places where they don't sell alcohol! At all! Not a drop, not a shot, not a single beer for a weary traveler doomed to spend the night in Texas. Fuck those people, I've got a direct flight there, and one stop in Colorado on the way home. Colorado may suck ass, but it's better than Texas, and I bet you can find some beer there.
So I'm off again, my little ones. I hope you all take care of each other while I'm gone. I will leave you with a few items about Ang, and why I love her.

*She was always willing to pack up and go somewhere at a moments notice. LA, San Luis, Santa Barbara, it didn't matter. We'd grab some beer, some cloves, a pair of shorts and head out.
*Once I broke the cooler and it poured ice cold water all over her ass in the car, and she didn't even get mad at me.
*We dressed as Thing One and Thing Two for Halloween (years ago)
*She went to school in Fresno, but she'd still come home every weekend to see me.
*She wore a dress to be in my wedding. Huge for Ang.
*When my car broke she let me use hers all day while she was at work.
*She showed me the joys of Coors Light, Diet Coke and Djarum Specials.
*She let me cry on her shoulder, even before we were friends.
*I could always talk shit in bars because I could depend on her to have my back. And she can actually fight, unlike me.
*She taught me how to play Three Man.
*We spent so much time together people thought we were dating, but neither one of us cared that much.

See you on Thursday! Have fun, my friends. Don't rob my house, ok?

Thursday, February 3rd

I try to set a good example for my son. I really do. I eat more vegetables than I normally would, in an attempt to show him they vegetables are not in fact sent by the devil to kill us. I don't swear, I don't watch violent shows when he's around, I share. So why do I feel bad eating macaroni and cheese with Fritos for breakfast? I fed him a waffle with peanut butter on it, so it's not like I gave him the same breakfast I had. Yet I still felt I had to hide my own food from him. Oh, also, if you eat breakfast at 11:30, is it still breakfast or has it become lunch, making the three cups of coffee you had earlier your actual breakfast?

Caden and I washed my car today. I know I'm making all you sun-deprived people out there very jealous but oh my goodness, it is beautiful. I actually had to change into shorts because I was too hot. It's so awesome. And my car is clean. What a day.

Me: Today

pen·sive
adj.
Deeply, often wistfully or dreamily thoughtful.
Suggestive or expressive of melancholy thoughtfulness.

Spring has sprung

At least for a little while, it's spring in San Jose.
I sat in the sun and finished my book.
I sat in the sun and ate macaroni and cheese.
I sat in the sun and pulled my jeans up over my knees and said "damn I'm white".
I sat in the sun and painted my toenails.
I sat in the sun and flexed my bicep and contemplated how pathetically weak I am.
I sat in the sun and talked with Caden.
I sat in the sun and just....sat.
I also hit some plastic balls around the yard with Caden and as usual started singing "I did it like this, I did it like that, I did it with a wiffle ball bat so........"
I love spring.

Hello darkness, my old friend

Well, my dad is gone and there are no visitors today and I am happy about that. My house is quiet, it's just Caden and me today. Ahhhhhh.......silence.
The sun is out and it is GORGEOUS outside today. I just wanted to do a quick post then I'm headed outside to enjoy the day. The sun rejuvenates me.


I know you guys can't tell but this is Caden in front of the jellyfish tank.
We went to the Monterey Bay aquarium on Sunday. It was fun, although the girls were a bit tired due to the fact that my little sister somehow convinced us it would be a good idea to go dancing Saturday night. We stayed out late and got up way too early. But what a fun night we had! We danced and drank and laughed, laughed, laughed. There was almost a fight, a drunken disclosure, for some reason the whole place was filled with short people, I felt like a giant at 5'7".
Jeff Garcia was there, and I was completely convinced he played for the Giants. My sister tried to tell me he was a 49er, but I didn't believe her. I do now.
Well, it's 11am and time to go outside. Good day, Sunshine!

(wait....I'M Sunshine!)