Winter weather

Fact: I have the day off tomorrow.

Fact: Natalie and I have plans to do the last of our Christmas shopping.

Fact: It's supposed to snow like crazy tomorrow.

*Sigh*

I've lived in New England my entire life, and I STILL don't know that I should never count on the weather to be nice when making plans.

So maybe I'll spend tomorrow wrapping the gifts I've already bought/made instead. Either way... a Friday off? Totally awesome.

Working with the public can be hazardous to my health

I have good news and bad news.

Bad news first:
I am so, so, SO tired of dealing with PEOPLE this week. Working in a public library, one is pretty much guaranteed with facing crazy people, angry people, and just plain annoying people on a daily basis. And today is my sixth day in a row of this. I'm at the point where if one more person comes to the desk and mumbles, "Computer," instead of the infinitely more polite, "May I use the computer, please?" I just might say something that will feel good in that moment, but that I'll eventually come to regret.

And now for the good news:
We are deep into the holiday season, and I am absolutely loving it this year. The kids have been a bit better behaved (after weeks of my 7 year old acting like she's 15, and my 5 year old forgetting that he knows how to hear, this is actually GREAT news), I've spent tons of time with my sisters, AND I'm almost done with my Christmas shopping. Plus, all that goodness is not even counting the fact that I have a boyfriend who listens to me complain and nag, and who still tells me that he loves me no matter what. Sometimes I'm not sure what I did to deserve this life.

So I'll suck it up and be nice to the library patrons for the rest of the day. Because I could be a whole heck of a lot worse off.

Laaaaaame

A poem:

It's the last day,
And I've got nothing to say.

Except, we totally put up the Christmas tree today.
Hooray!

Hehe.

Owwwww

Do you guys know how much it hurts when a cat scratches your eyelid?

A whole freaking lot, that's how much.

Ouch.

Iiiiiiit's a small world aaaaafter all.

Oh. My. Word.

Usually, I enjoy living in a place where everyone seems to know everyone else. I have never been, and will never BE a city girl. I love my small-town, quiet existence. And I adore running into people I know all over the place.

Except, sometimes it bites me right in the butt.

Yesterday was so much fun. I spent the day chatting/eating/laughing with Bill and some of his closest friends. They accepted me immediately, and everyone was incredibly nice and cool. Even if I did make a complete fool of myself.

I had known there would be a possibility that a guy I dated briefly (and who I told I wasn't ready for a relationship) would be at Thanksgiving dinner, but I didn't think he would be the first person we saw when we walked in the door. But he was. Suffice it to say he was a bit surprised. And, embarassingly enough, he had to relay the fact that we had been on a couple of dates to his family. Niiiice. Then, talking to my seatmate at dinner, I realized that he had worked with the stupid ex for quite a while. And instead of keeping my big mouth shut, I mentioned that to him. THEN, when I was talking to seatmate's wife, we discovered that she graduated high school with my ex-husband. *Sigh*

If I don't quit this, it's going to start sounding like I've dated every available guy in a 20 mile radius.

Anyway, dinner was great. The people were awesome. And I got home relatively unscathed. Plus, I got to play with a 9 week-old pug. Score!

Today, the fam and I went Christmas shopping, and I'd like to say that I am much closer to being finished with my purchases, but sadly, I'm really not.

But instead of thinking about that, I'm off to Jenni's, to spend some quality time with my sisters. Jenni's going to cook for us, we're going to play Harry Potter "Scene It" (which Jenni will totally kick our butts at), and we're going to laugh our sisterly butts off. Yay!

T-giving

I wish I knew how to do pretty pictures of tukeys and stuff, but as I don't... I'll just post a picture of MY lovely family having Thanksgiving dinner instead.

Happy Turkey Day, everyone!

I'm a little bit trepidatious about spending Thanksgiving day with a bunch of people I've never met before. Thanksgiving, for me, has always been a family holiday, and if I'm not spending it with MY family, I'm spending it with the family of a significant other.

This year, things are different. As we had my family dinner on Saturday (and we're STILL eating the leftovers. Oh my goodness, it is SO possible to get tired of turkey), I will be spending tomorrow with Bill. And his friends. And THEIR friends. I might know a total of 5 people there. And Bill has mentioned that there may be around 60. Since I don't generally thrive in large groups of people, this could be really, really interesting. And... it could be really, really fun.

So here's to a little bit of change.

Happy Thanksgiving!

These are a few of my favorite things...

Favorite things about my early Thanksgiving celebration with the family:

-Playing Twister!

-Introducing Bill to the parentals, and knowing without a doubt that they genuinely like him. (Although, seriously... what's not to like?)

-Not having to cook a gosh-darn thing (other than a chocolate cream pie the previous night).

-Gin & Tonic, made by my dad... and this conversation:

Emilee: "Can I have someone's lime?"
Me: "Sure, Em. You can have mine."
Jenni: (AFTER, Emilee has put the lime into her mouth, of course) "You DO realize that lime has been soaking in alcohol, right?"

-Winning Trivial Pursuit with Jenni (and Bill)... against our far more knowledgeable parents.

-Being in a room filled to the brim with people I love.

Oh no you didn't.

I think Bill lets me get away with WAY too much, because apparently I've gotten a little too big for my britches...

Me: I can't wait to go shopping on Friday.

Dad: Yeah, I'll be doing my shopping at Home Depot while you guys are at the other stores.

Me: Oh no. You'll be staying with us.

Dad: Well I guess you'll be doing your shopping at Home Depot then.

Sometimes it takes a dad to snap you right up.

Busy

I am just way too busy enjoying my loved ones to blog today. =P

More tomorrow, I promise.

Aieeeeeee

Crap crap crap.

Thanksgiving dinner is in t-minus 5 hours, and I haven't even taken the turkey out of the fridge yet, to make sure it's thawed. Oops. I'm kind of counting on Mom and Dad to do that, except I'm 28 years old, and really? I COULD be responsible for a turkey at this point. I just don't WANT to be.

Anyway, happy fake Thanksgiving, everyone!

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Yesterday, a little girl whose class I was reading to came up to me after storytime, and told me that her family has already put up their Christmas tree.

Twinking white lights are up all throughout downtown.

In the apartment building across from mine, I can see a colorful tree in someone's upstairs.

And I'm a tad bit jealous. Which can only mean one thing.

It's totally time to decorate for Christmas. And since our family Thanksgiving is Saturday, and since any time after Thanksgiving is apprpriate for holiday decorating, I believe that my tree will be going up on Sunday.

There's nothing like a little holiday spirit. =)

Sleep talking

When I woke up this morning, Bill told me I had been talking in my sleep. He said that I kept saying the word "Grammie." And when he asked me what I was talking about, I said, "couch."

What was THAT all about? I can't remember what I was dreaming, and I don't know how Grammie (or WHICH Grammie) is connected with a couch.

But I wish I did.

Ask and you shall receive

First of all, can I just say that it is 27 degrees outside right now? 27. Also, it's windy, so according to weather.com, it FEELS like it's 15 degrees. My parents are arriving from Florida tomorrow, and I have a feeling they're not going to be thrilled with the weather, but that's just a hunch.

Second, guess what?? Remember the other day, when I was lamenting the fact that I would need to wait at least 4 weeks to get my next Stephenie Meyer fix? Well, the very next day when I arrived at work, I discovered that our teen librarian had just gotten in THREE copies of "Eclipse." That totally made my day, let me tell you.

Third, last night, Bill told me he's already bought the kids (and us) a Christmas present, and it's pretty much the most exciting thing ever, because I've been wanting one for a long time, and was planning on spending part of my tax return on it. I won't tell you what it is just yet, but suffice it to say I have the coolest boyfriend ever.

Fourth, just as a small aside... Daisy girl scouts should NOT be made to feel bad that they didn't sell 8 million fundraiser items to their friends and family. I'm just saying... Grrr.

Gobble gobble gobble

Thanksgiving is coming early this year. On Saturday, to be exact. Since I don't have the kids for the actual Thanksgiving day, my family is gathering this weekend for an early celebration. At my little apartment. It will be crowded and loud and absolutely wonderful. Also, a little bit nerve-wracking, because I'm introducing Bill to my parents for the first time, and I want SO badly for them to like him. I would never tell him this, but they can be a bit picky. I think they've genuinely liked maybe three of four of my boyfriends in all the time that I've been dating (approximately 13 years now). And their opinion matters a lot. Don't get me wrong... I haven't broken up with anyone I was dating just because they didn't like or approve of the guy, but it has weighed heavily on my decision a few times. (Don't worry... I won't share any of this with Bill. He will be blissfully unaware.) And honestly, I think they're going to like him. He reminds me of my dad in a way, and he and my parents actually know some of the same people. So here's hoping...

And another thing... I think Mom and Dad are going to make me cook a little bit more of Thanksgiving dinner than they did last year. This could be scary.

Prooooblem

Confession: I am a little bit addicted to the Twilight series. I fought it for a long time. A REALLY long time. Patrons and co-workers alike were telling me daily how wonderful the series was, and assuring me that, more than a vampire tale, it was a love story.

I didn't believe them.

But then one day, "Twilight" was returned to the library with a broken spine, and I thought, "Well, I might as well bring it home and give it a try now. No one will care if I have this copy out for months." Those of you who have read the books probably don't need to be told that I didn't take months to read it. Even with my busy schedule of work combined with single mom-hood, I still managed to devour it in just days. And I immediately wanted more. (Yay for sequels!)

I've just finished "New Moon" and I'm on the waiting list for "Eclipse." The problem? I'm three people down on the list. Which means a potential waiting time of at LEAST 4 weeks (and that's only IF the two people before me return the book on time.

I think I'd better start looking for another copy of the book. Because I'm not sure I can wait that long.

Yaaaaawn

Ever have one of those weekends where you end up completely exhausted, even though when you think back over the two days, you realize you didn't actually DO that much?

Yeah, I just had one of those weekends.

Zzzzzzzzzz.

Lions and tigers and bears... oh my!

In a little while, the sisters, the significant others, and I are heading to the humane society to help Jenni pick out a new kitty. I've been excited about this for days... pretty much since we made the plan to do it. I love spending time with those cats and dogs... giving love to animals that probably don't get enough of it. Of course, it's extremely difficult to go there and not be able to bring one... or 6... home with me, but I'll just have to try to control myself (since technically, I'm not actually SUPPOSED to have any pets in my apartment).

Oops.

Crafty... or... not.

I don't know if I've mentioned yet that the sisters and I are doing homemade Christmas gifts for each other this year, but we are. And I'm crazy-excited about it, but also a little bit nervous. The last time we did this (three years ago), I made scarves. I had just learned to knit, and was extremely proud to be able to create something warm and pretty for my sisters.

This year, I'm trying something a little bit more difficult. Not only am I knitting something for each of them, but I'm also making things that require ingredients! (Not food... don't worry). Anyway, I won't go into detail about what I'm making (yet), because I have this weird fear that one of my lovely sisters might happen upon this blog and I want my gifts to be a surprise. However, here's a picture of some of the things I'll need to put these presents together.

I'm gonna be a busy girl this month and next. Eesh.

Ch...ch...ch...ch...chaaaanges

I'm wearing a suit today. As in, black dress pants, a black and white button up blouse (with ruffles! I don't even know if they're in our out, and I don't care!) and a black suit coat. Oh, also high heeled boots, except those are mostly hidden by my pants. Why the detailed description of my clothing, you ask? Mostly because I've gotten comments all frickin' day long about it. "Why are you so dressed up?" (I didn't think I WAS.) "Are you going somewhere special after work?" (Um, I get out of work at 8, and I'm a little old lady, so no. Definitely not.) "You look really nice today." (I swear to God I don't look like a scrub all the other days... at least I don't THINK I do.)

Anyway.

I've decided that I need to work a little harder at being spontaneous. I've been a single mom for four years now, and I've managed to get myself and the kiddos into a pretty strict routine. And when someone tries to change it... well, I kind of... resist.

Last Thursday, I went to Bill's, thinking just the two of us were hanging out. Except that when I got there, his cousin and a friend of theirs had already taken over the place. Everyone had a drink in hand, and the music was cranked up. There seemed to be a little party in progress, and I'd had no warning. So I had a mini freak-out.

And seriously... what kind of reaction is THAT? There were only two extra people at Bill's house, and they were both people I've met and like. And yet, when I saw that they were there, I ALMOST turned around and left. Bill talked me into staying, but it took quite a bit of convincing. So why wasn't I able to just take things in stride like a normal person? Is it because I'm so used to being on my own? Is it because just about every other Thursday of the past 4 years, I've gone home, turned on the tv, made myself a bowl of ramen noodles, and vegged until bedtime? Probably.

It's definitely time to start embracing this sudden (wonderful) change in my life. It just might take a little bit of effort.

Before and after

(Photography courtesy of my totally awesome 2.0 megapixel cell phone.)

Before:


After:


I admit, it could have been better, but for a morning's work? Not too shabby.

Halleluja (or however you spell it)

Oh, lovely holidays. They're wonderful, but they make it pretty darn hard to return to work the next day. Oof.

Yesterday was more productive than I had planned for it to be. In the morning, the kids and I went over their bedroom with a fine-toothed comb, and apparently reading that picture book beforehand helped, because they were actually willing (WILLING!) to get rid of some of their toys. And the result, while not perfect, is SO much better. I can actually walk across the room without stepping on 356 toys on my way through. Definite success.

Afterwards, as a reward, we went to Funspot. Oodles of fun for the kids, tiring for me. But they totally deserved it.

And THEN, I made pork chops for dinner (a first for me, so they were nothing fancy), but I did make homemade applesauce to go along with them, so I was feeling quite proud of myself. And the kids ate every bite! Score!

I am thanking my lucky stars that I have a three-day weekend (with no plans whatsoever) coming up.

Phew phew phew.

Clean clean clean (I hope)

We got this book in the library the other day. It's a story about a little boy whose toys kind of take over the entire house, until his mother finally decides that it's time for him to give some of them away. Of course, the little boy doesn't want to get rid of a single one.

The story reminded me so much of my own children, that I decided to bring it home and read it to them before starting on our own purging project. That project begins now. (Can you tell I'm procrastinating a bit?)

I leave you with a before picture, and hopefully there will be an "after" which shows that some progress was actually made.

However, I'll be working with a 5 and 7 year old who would rather be doing just about anything else on their day off from school, so I guess we'll see.




P.S. Happy Veteran's Day. And thank you thank you thank you to all those who fight and who have fought for our freedom.

None of your busy-ness

Aw crap crap crap crap crap.

I missed another day.

I should probably just abandon this NaBloPoMo thing altogether, and just blog when I WANT to instead, huh?

*Sigh*

As you can probably guess, my weekend was incredibly busy (and it feels like it's still not quite over, since I have tomorrow off as well)... yay!

It was nice to hang out with everyone on Saturday evening at Shea's. She and Paul have just finished their basement (the last piece of furniture came in on Saturday), so we all sat down there, watching "Bee Movie" on their projecter screen. Totally and completely awesome. It was almost like being in the movie theater, except the picture was better and the seats were more comfortable. Also, we could bring in our own food. Which... I guess I do at the real movie theater too, but I didn't feel all guilty about it this time.

Anyway, here's hoping tomorrow is a LITTLE less busy.

Phew.

Shopaholic Takes On Kohl's

Omigosh, I love Kohl's. Late-ish last night, Jenni, Bill and I went shopping. Well, technically Jenni and I went shopping, and Bill watched... being very careful not to say anything negative about the things we were trying on. And I must say, he did an excellent job. With one small exception. I was trying on a belted blouse (Jenni told me not to use that word, but I am anyway. So THERE, Jenni) and Bill commented that he thought the belt was too high. (Bless his heart, the boy lives in Carhart, so I didn't actually take note of his worry about the height of the belt).

As we were checking out, the girl behind the register joked around with us, and gave us more of a discount than she was supposed to because we were basically the only customers in the store, and she was bored. Which means I bought 5 shirts and sweaters and one pair of black dress pants for a grand total of $63.00. Awesome.

And tonight, we're all off to Shea's house, to finish off the sister-boyfriend introductions.

Phew.

What the heeeeeck?

This is the second time in a couple of weeks that I've written a nice, long post, only to have it deleted on me when I go to publish it. *Sigh*

And I just don't have the time or energy to do it all over again.

Maybe tomorrow.

No, definitely tomorrow.

Happy weekend. =)

I'm gonna kick some Kindergarten BUTT

So when I picked Gavin up from daycare this afternoon, he had a big red mark on the side of his nose... right next to his eye. When I asked him what happened, he said he was playing volleyball (turns out it was actually dodgeball) in gym class, and that someone threw the ball and hit him in the face. I think it's probably illegal for me to go after the little snot who did that to him, but that doesn't mean I don't WANT to.

When I asked Gavin if he cried, he said, "Nope! I was a brave boy!" And of course that made ME want to bawl. How did my baby get to be such a big kid so quickly??

*Sigh*

I went to JoAnn Fabrics this morning to pick out some things that I can't tell you guys about because they have to do with Christmas presents for my sisters, and one of them reads my blog on occasion.

Anyway... when I was signing the receipt, the cashier looked at my signature, and said, "Wow, you write really small." I nodded and smiled, because I get that all. the. time. But then she added, "You know, the size of your signature is supposed to be an indication of your self worth. So you should start writing bigger."

On-sale craft supplies AND a free psychological evaluation all in one trip... Score!

In addition, Bill brought me roses today. I haven't gotten flowers in... well, in a REALLY long time, so this is totally news-worthy. He also brought me bacon. (Yes, bacon.) And it was delicious. =)

The end.

And the winner is...

Ok, I swear to God this is my last post about the presidential election, for two reasons. 1. Because I'm fairly certain everyone and his or her brother is blogging about the election, and 2. Because everyone else really knows more about it than I do anyway.

That said, I'm glad Obama won. Really I am. Partly because now I get to hold it over the heads of my entirely Republican family, but also because he seems like a good guy (and please please please don't prove me wrong here, Mr. Obama). Also, my kids were rooting for him, so it was fun to tell them this morning that he will be our next president. My 5 and 7 year old are much more aware than I was at that age, and I think that's a great thing.

There is, however, one draw-back to Obama winning the presidency, and it is this: I live in New England, and Yankees don't know how to talk. I love my dad to pieces, but if your name ends with an "a" he will automatically add an "r" to it. I'm pretty sure that's why my sisters and I do NOT have names that end in "a," but my double cousins all do. So Andrea, Sonia and Victoria become Andre-er, Sonyer, and Victorier. Unexplainably, Yankees also tend to subtract the "r" from a word that is SUPPOSED to end in one. "Car" is "caah," "bar" is "baah"... you get the idear (sorry, couldn't help myself). And while I've worked hard to keep the accent out of my speech as much as possible (although my friends from the south say it's quite obvious), the old-school Yankees do no such thing.

So anyway, after learning this morning that Obama had won the election, and after hearing my boyfriend (another born and bred Yankee) say his name out loud, I've decided I'm just going to have to get used to him being referred to as "Obalmer" for at least the next four years.

Sheesh.

ELECTION day

I don't know why I called it "voting day" yesterday, when I could have been intelligent and used the correct term. Chalk it up to the fact that it was Monday, and that my brain doesn't really start working again (after a weekend of laziness) until Tuesday.

So anyway, today we vote. Or, some of us do anyway. I'm heading over after work to cast my vote, and then I'm not going to talk to anyone about politics for a long, long time. Because it seems like, with this election more than any other, people get ANGRY when they're talking about the candidates. Like, ANGRY-ANGRY (I've actually heard an old lady berate a middle-aged man for his presidential candidate choice... and this was in the LIBRARY). Anyway, I don't do angry-angry. I do discussion, but I don't know enough about politics to argue about much of anything, so I'd really rather not even try. And since the rest of my family seems to consist of staunch Republicans, I really need to steer clear of any type of political discussion with them, period.

So, happy voting, everyone... just don't talk to me about it. =P

For the love of God, hurry up voting day.

Oh my word. If I never hear another political ad, it will be FAR too soon. Thank goodness tomorrow is voting day.

Also, can I just say that (and yes, this is an obvious statement) being in the beginning stages of a relationship is awesome? Even better, though, is being in the beginning of a relationship, and not having to worry one little bit whether the guy will call when he says he will... or if he really wants to be spending as much time with me as he is. Those are things I'm used to. I have to say that dating a guy who makes things easy is SO much better. Phew.

I already suck at NaBloPoMo. Just so you know.

Oh my. I already missed the first... what? Two days of NaBloPoMo. And even worse, I'm not even sure what day it is! I may have only missed one day, which would be SO much better. So yeah, let's go with that.

I don't want to bore you with Bill talk, but as we've spent the entire weekend together, that's really all I've got at the moment. I met his friends on Friday night, and they were funny and warm and kind and just plain delightful... much like Bill himself. I was nervous, but not as shy and quiet as I COULD have been. I introduced Bill to MY bff, but as Bill was a TEENSY bit drunk when that happened, we decided to have a re-meeting the following morning, so we met at Starbucks, and laughed over coffee and inappropriate text forwards. Ahhh, boys.

Aaaaanyway, I suppose I should post a picture of me in my lovely dress, shouldn't I? I think it will appear above, but on the off chance that I actually manage to get it where I want it, yay me!

Boooooo

For Halloween today, I'm dressed as my mom. Circa 1975. I'm not even kidding. She said she bought (or was given... she can't remember) the dress when she was a teenager, and when she and my dad moved to Florida last year, she handed it to me, saying I might be able to use it for a Halloween costume or something one day.

So I wore it today. And people have been complimenting the thing like it's some currently fashionable dress. Craziness. Just... craziness.

Tonight, I'm off to Bill's house for a party. Not a Halloween party (which means I have to go home and change out of the dress first, which is fine by me), just a party-party. I'm meeting a bunch of Bill's friends for the first time, so I'm kind of nervous. I tend to be really, REALLY shy around new people, and especially around a great big GROUP of new people. Yikes.

Tomorrow starts NaBloPoMo... weeee. Let's see if I can actually keep up...

Cleavage, for the win

Yesterday was weird.

For some reason, people were being especially friendly to me, and I couldn't figure out why. Not that people aren't generally cordial to me, it just seemed that they were being even more so than usual.

And then N's mom came to pick her up at work. Let me just take a second here to tell you that N's mom is totally awesome. She's very earthy and open-minded... the kind of person you'd want share your stories with, just because you know her take on them is going to be well thought-out and hilarious all at the same time. So anyway, we were chatting- about men and dating and the library- when she said this to me: "I keep focusing on your cleavage. There's just so much of it!"

Oops. See, the thing is (and I'm sure the one person who reads this is quite aware of this fact) I really DON'T have much in the way of cleavage. But yesterday, I was wearing a top that was (admittedly) a little low-cut, and if you were standing above me (which most of the people I talked to during the day were doing) it would have looked like I was trying my best to show off what little goods I have. Awesome.

Which brought me to the realization that all those extra smiles I was getting? Yeah, they all came from men. And one lesbian.

*Sigh* Another outfit to add to the list of things I really shouldn't wear to work.

A little tongue

Emilee and I had this conversation as I was doing the dishes yesterday morning:

Emilee: Mommy, our closet door is dirty. Do we have any Clorox?
Me: Clorox? Why does it have to be Clorox?
Em: Because. Clorox cleans stains and sticky, baked-on messes.
Me: (after a burst of laughter) Where did you hear THAT?
Em: On tv.

It's possibly they watch too much Nickelodeon.

Later that day, I brought home the Katy Perry CD so I could play "I kissed a girl" for the kids, because they love it:

Me: I have a surprise for you guys.
Emilee: What is it?
Me: Hold on a second... I'll show you.
Emilee: Gavin, what do you hope it is?
Gavin: Cow tongue.
Me: WHAT?? Cow TONGUE?
Gav: Yeah, cow tongue. I love it.

Huh.

Bats away

So. After calling my best friend, and making him come over and take care of the bat problem for me, I had an entire bat-free night's sleep.

Phew.

Want to know what's driving me insane right now? The fact that it's been raining for, like, the whole entire summer. I'm not kidding. The whole fricking thing. Summer is usually my time to cheer up... to bring myself out of the funk that winter seems to cause every year. This summer, though? Not exactly happening.

So here's the thing, Summer. How 'bout you show your big, bright, sun-shiny self really, really soon (like, next week while I'm on vacation would be AWESOME) because otherwise, I might just have to take you DOWN.

Rawr.

Going batty

So I'm pretty sure this is a serious case of karma, kicking me in the ass:

When I was in high school, my best friend's brother (who was also a good friend of mine at the time, but who I made the mistake of dating as an adult, and as a result, we are no longer friends... but that's a story for another time. Anyway) woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of a bat, thumping against his bedroom walls. At first, he thought it was a bird, but when he realized what it actually was, he yelled so loud it woke up everyone in the house. When his sister relayed the story to me the next day, I thought it was hilarious, and called him Batman for several months afterward.

Well guess what, people? I am here to tell you right now that having a bat fly around your bedroom in the middle of the night is not that hilarious after all. In fact, it's actually downright terrifying. Mine appeared last night around midnight, and I was only alerted to the fact when I realized that my cat was going BONKERS. Turns out, she was chasing a big ol' bat all around my room. I raced out of there as fast as I could, and hid out in the bathroom for about 5 minutes. Then, thinking maybe it would find its way outside, I went downstairs and opened the front door (and went back to hide in the bathroom again for awhile).

I didn't hear anything after that, so assuming I had solved the problem, I went back to bed about 15 minutes later... only to be awakened by little squaking noises at 1:30. And even though the bat was nowhere in sight, I spent the rest of the night on the living room couch.

I'm pretty sure that bat is still somewhere in my apartment. And I'm scared out of my mind. Brian said he'll come over after I get out of work and help me get rid of the flying creepy thing and once again I'm thanking my lucky stars that I have a best friend who's always there when I need help.

But oh my gosh... a bat. And to David T... if you ever happen to read this... I apologize profusely for ever picking on you for your late night bat experience. I was so, so wrong.

Something smells fishy around here...

Ok, guys. It's time. I've been holding off long enough, but I've finally decided that it's about time for me to learn how to cook. As in, real food... not frozen stuff from boxes every single night. Because, in addition to being completely unhealthy, I look like the world's worst mother in the check-out line at the grocery store.

So I started with fish. Not that frozen Morton's stuff in the yellow box. Ohhhh no. I walked myself right up to the fish counter at Market Basket and ordered real live (ok, not live, live, because ew) FRESH haddock. That's right. It had never been frozen in its entire life. And I cooked it. And it was awesome. Not only did I cook it, but I also made broccoli (and celery sticks... that's TWO green vegetables) to go with it! Even my picky eater (that would be Gavin) gave it two thumbs up... and the best part? It wasn't even that hard to make!

I think I'll give chicken stir-fry a try next. =)

P.S. If any of you are interested (and you totally are, I just know it), the Muppets are going to be on the Disney channel tonight at 8. I know what I'LL be watching tonight. ;o)

Ow

Reason number 246 why I really shouldn't drink:

Yesterday morning, I went to cross my legs at my desk, and found that it hurt. Which sucks, because I'm always sitting with my legs crossed like a little lady. Upon further investigation, I discovered that I had bruises on the backs of BOTH of my legs.

So I sat there for an hour, trying to figure out how the heck that could have happened. And then, I remembered.

On Wednesday night, while sitting around the campfire, drinking wine and chatting with Melissa and Brett (and Brett's entire family), somehow I managed to tip over the little bench I was sitting on, landing with my butt in the sand, but with my legs still hanging over the bench.

And that my friends, is what we call grace.

And possibly a little too much alcohol.

Summer doldrums

So I've decided to try this posting-every-day-for-a-month thing once again, to see how it goes. However, I'm NOT signing up for NaBloPoMo because when I do, I feel all guilty when I can't manage to post daily. So there.

Anyway, can I just say that usually in the summer I am the happiest girl you could ever hope to meet? Bad stuff happens, and it just rolls right off me, because hey, it's summer. The sun's out, I have a tan, and I'm constantly out doing stuff. This summer, though? Not so much. I mean, I have my good days, and even some great ones. But on the whole, things just aren't going that swimmingly (ha. Did you catch my pun? Summer... swimmingly...).

So now I'm trying to figure out how to fix it. Because summer will be over in a month (I do live in New England, after all, and summer here is entirely too fleeting). I simply refuse to spend what little bit of summer is left being down in the dumps. And that means actively changing things for the better. I'm just not exactly sure how to go about doing that...

I keep this other blog at Myspace (because I'm, like, totally a 16 year old girl, obviously) but I tend to keep that one upbeat because, seriously, who wants to read the thoughts of a morose person? Not me, that's for sure. So I'm sorry that this is the more depressing of the two blogs, but I've got to type this stuff SOMEWHERE.

Or I could just write it down, so NO ONE has to read it, but what's the fun in that? =P

You can cut MY grass any day.

I got asked out today.

And yeah, I know you don't think that's newsworthy, but it totally is, believe me. Because it, like, never happens to me. Ever. Well, ok... obviously it's happened a FEW times, but really hardly ever. So here's how it went down:

This morning I was doing my laundry (in black dress pants and a blue tank top) and while I was en route to the laundry room, I noticed that my apartment complex's landscaping company had already started for the day (at the lovely hour of 7 am). So there I was sans any kind of eye make-up or hair straigtening, being chatted up by tan, burly men, who would probably be spending the rest of their day gazing at nothing but shrubs and grass.

They talked to me while I was on my way to put my clothes in the washer.

They talked to me while I was on my way to take the clothes out of the washer and put them into the dryer.

They talked to me while I was on my way to take the clothes out of the dryer.

And then, I grabbed the kids, and we left to walk to day care.

Landscaping Guy: Hey, do you work in a salon?
Me: Um, no. Why?
LG: Oh, because you're dressed like you're going to work in a salon.
Me: (Laughing... because that's what I do) Oh, no. I'm a librarian.

Fast forward 10 minutes, as I'm walking home from dropping the kids off at daycare.

LG: Hey, come here a minute.
Me: Um, yes?
LG: Uh, I was wondering if you would be opposed to going out to dinner with me sometime?
Me: (Totally unsure of what to say, because as I've previously mentioned, I DON'T get asked out) Oh, I sort of have a boyfriend, but thank you for asking! That was so sweet of you. Really. That was so sweet. (Attempting to shut myself off from using the word "sweet" because I'm sure I sound stupid by this point).

Then I went inside and called Brian. Because I needed to tell someone, and he was the likeliest candidate.

As I headed to my car to leave (to meet Brian for coffee and chat at Starbucks), I stopped to ask Landscaper Guy his name. And to tell him mine. Which Brian said was not a good idea, but which I thought was only fair, since this guy had gone to the trouble of asking me out, even though he risked being rejected.

Anyway, yeah. That was a long story about something that other people probably have happen to them on a daily basis.

One of these days, I'll be more awesome. I promise.

I seeeeee you.

I'm supposed to wear glasses. Did you guys (well, the one person who reads this once in a great while) know that?

I hardly ever have them on when I'm out in public, because I have this fear that they make me look extremely dorky... and like the quintessential librarian. So, most of the time, they stay in my car... where I'm required by law to wear them. (Because my license says so).

Recently, though, I've decided that I may need to change my glasses-wearing habits. Because I'm pretty sure I've been ignoring people.

A few weeks ago, Rene and Josh stopped by to visit me at work, and I looked right at them, gave a little smile, then totally walked away without saying a single word to them, because I had no idea who they were. All I saw were two blob faces on two guy bodies, and I smiled to be polite. Luckily, they're awesome, and they followed me up the stairs, probably thinking to themselves, "Whoa, when did Jamie become such a snob?"

Then today, on my way into work, some dude working with the landscape company in the garden gave me a big wave. I grinned and waved back, but I have no freaking idea who that guy was. One of my co-workers saw the whole thing and asked if I knew him... to which I had to (embarassingly) reply that I had no clue because I couldn't actually see his face. He could have been some long-lost friend from school... or he could have just been trying to tell me to watch out for a truck that was about to back into me... (That's the other problem. A lot of times, I'm kind of oblivious to my surroundings. I have pretty much the worst observation skills ever).

So here's the thing: If you've seen me any time in the past, oh, 10 years or so, and I haven't indicated that I recognized you, it's not because I'm snubbing you, I swear. It's because I can't actually SEE you.

I tried wearing the glasses yesterday, and two people commented on them. One of my co-workers said, "You wear glasses??" And then a patron told me that I looked very librarian-ish. It didn't exactly sound like a compliment. =P

*Sigh*

I think I'm just going to have to get over my self-consciousness and put the stupid things on once in awhile.

Speaking of home (which is supposed to be the NaBloPoMo theme for this month, and which I've been completely ignoring), I'm totally back on my getting-rid-of-everything-I-possibly-can kick. Having clutter is driving me up the wall, so I've started tossing things out. Yesterday it was one of those hideous long stand-up mirrors. It's been broken for about three years, and in all that time I haven't bothered to replace it, so I finally did this weekend. Now I have a pretty (and cheap) mirror in a white frame hanging on the wall instead.

I also managed to toss out some old VHS tapes. Because I'm pretty sure I'm going to buy a Playstation 3... that way I can play BlueRays, DVD's, AND video games.

Anyway... my next project? Books. This is a hard one for me because (and this is probably fairly obvious, given my profession) I love books. So getting rid of them is incredibly hard for me. And I always have a feeling that even though I haven't read a certain book in years, the minute I find a new home for it is the minute I'm going to want/need to read it.

Ugh.

Wish me luck.

Summer fun

Oy.

I love summer to itty bitty pieces, but it's totally kicking my butt. After today's trips to two playgrounds, Dairy Queen, and the lake, I am so very ready for an early bedtime.

And possibly a strong drink.

Porkin'

A word to the wise:

If you happen to have a stomach that is notorious for not being very accepting of new foods, it probably isn't the greatest idea to eat a pulled pork sandwich being sold by a street vendor during Bike Week. Just a thought.

Aside from the fact that my tummy is not thanking me right now, having lunch outside of the library with a group of my co-workers, while a very loud oldies band played on a stage directly in front of us, was exactly what I needed today. I've been missing out on Friday lunches with my sisters, and while this wasn't exactly the same, it was really nice.

Bring on the weekend.

Two-for-one

There isn't much that would compel me to write two blogs in one day... however, this just couldn't be left unsaid:


Holy Overabundance of Motorcycle Hotties, Batman!


I'm tellin' ya... if I didn't have an adorable boyfriend who I completely adore, some poor biker would probably find himself under attack.

*Drool*

Bikers, baby

We are smack dab in the middle of Bike Week here, and while it annoys the heck out of most of the area residents, I kind of love it. The constant rumble, the new and interesting faces that pop into the library every so often, the traffic back-ups... well, ok... I don't love EVERYTHING about Bike Week.

I think I just really like the idea that for one week out of the year, the place where I grew up is a popular tourist attraction. Because the rest of the year? Not so much.

Besides that, my little man is a lover of all things motorcycle, so having them all over the place is tres, tres exciting for him.

A few years ago, around Bike Week, I went on a couple of dates with a guy who was doing some of the work on our new library addition. I'm not sure it was completely kosher, and in hindsight, I'm not sure what I was thinking going out with a guy who wore a hard hat with a highly visible "Crotch Cannibal" sticker on it, but he was cute and I was young and single, so hey... why the heck not?

Anyway, he had two motorcycles; one sportsbike and one cruiser (or whatever those bigger hogs are called), and one of our dates consisted of him taking me out for a ride on the sportsbike. Without a helmet. (Yes, yes, I KNOW how dangerous that was, and no, I've never done it since). But oh man, was that exhilerating.

Shaws' Guy had a Ducati. And another one of my exes had a bike. (Apparently I'm attracted to the biker boys). However, Mr. Krutchy has nothing of the sort, and probably never WILL, so it looks like I am motorcycle-less this year... unless I get a license of my own.

Hmmmm...

Bare bones

There were bones (bones!) in my tuna fish sandwich yesterday. And they looked like human baby teeth. So, obviously I retired THAT sandwich to the garbage can immediately and went upstairs to tell my co-workers about it. One of them (very helpfully, I might add) said, "Maybe they were rat teeth."

Ew. Just... ew.

She also wanted me to go back to the trash can and dig out the hard toothy-looking things. I'm pretty sure her idea was to send them to the tuna company or something, but 1. There was no way I was going digging through the trash, and 2. What would be the point? All the free tuna fish I could eat? There's no way I'm going NEAR that stuff for at least 6 months.

Rat teeth... yick.

Oh. My. Word.

I took the little man for his Kindergarten screening this morning, and it hit me like a ton of bricks that, holy crap, I'm about to have TWO children in school. And yeah, I was young(ish) when they were born, but dang I feel old.

Before we left, we spent a whole going over the letters of the alphabet (he got about 20 of them right) and the numbers 1-10 (ALL of them... woot woot), and when we got to the school, I had a little taste of what sending on the school bus in the fall might be like; the screener led my little guy away and he didn't even look back once. The school secretary (who doesn't seem to have aged a day since *I* was in elementary school) looked at me and said, "You can't have two kids in school!" And I told her, truthfully, "I'm SO not ready for this." *Sigh*

When the testing was over, the little man came up to me, full of chatter about the questions he'd been asked. He said, "I got every single one right! They only asked me the easy letters!"

I love him.

And come late August/early September, when he steps out of pre-school-hood, and into big-boy-in-school-ville, I'm totally going to be bawling my eyes out.

Sniff sniff

You know how sometimes a smell can hit you with a memory so strong that you actually have to stop what you're doing because you've kind of forgotten everything else for a moment? That happened tonight.

It was a towel, and I had just taken it out of the dryer, but for some reason it had a slightly different scent than the rest of the clean towels; it smelled like L's laundry. And that's really weird, because L hasn't lived here in over a year. L's laundry always smelled a little bit metallic, I think. This will sound weird, but if you go to a clothing store and end up carrying around a bunch of hangers, sniff your hand afterwards (although try to do it when no one is looking, because you don't want people wondering about you)... that's the smell that L's laundry used to have. And I loved it. I don't know why exactly, I just did. (Yes, I KNOW I'm weird.)

Getting that little whiff of the towel sent me tailspinning into about 15 different memories all at once, and I'll admit that for about 5 seconds I couldn't move. After that, I was ok, but sheeeeesh.

Maybe it's time for new towels.

Smoking is bad for you

Apparently, my daughter has appointed herself Cigarette Police, and I'm not exactly sure why this is. No one in my family smokes, so she knows very little about cigarettes in general, but starting from the time she was approximately three years old, whenever we walked by someone who was smoking, Em would start up with this hacking (and believe me, completely fake) cough. It's actually hilarious, but probably not so much if you're the person it's directed at. And I tend not to laugh as hard when that person is a big burly motorcycle dude or something. Lately, she's taken up actually TELLING them that smoking is bad for them. And while that is completely and inarguably true, I don't think smokers appreciate hearing that.

Anyway, this weekend, as we were driving to Krutchy's softball game, I said to both of the kids, "Ok, guys, listen. A lot of people at the game are going to be swearing. You're not allowed to repeat any of those words. Got it? Also, a lot of people will be smoking. Please don't tell them it's bad for them. They KNOW it's bad for them, and even though I know you're just thinking about their health and that's very sweet, they really don't want to hear that from you. Ok?" And they did me proud. I didn't hear a single swear or guilt trip out of either one of them.

So today I was recounting all of this to Brian, and he told me something that made me laugh for about three minutes. His 6 year-old son (who is one of the funniest kids I have ever met) recently walked up to someone who was sucking on a cigarette, and whispered in that person's ear, "I think smoking smells good."

Kids... they so crack me up.

No, seriously... in the heeeeeeaaat of the moment.

Maybe it's because of my last blog title, but this song has been stuck in my head alllll day. Not the original, silly. No, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jD62fcfYqHw&feature=related is the version I can't seem to get rid of. I've been humming it pretty much non-stop all afternoon and evening... and yes, that includes the hour I was manning the adult desk at work. I'm pretty sure several people now think I'm a complete weirdo. Eh. They're just lucky I didn't do the "knee-clap, knee-clap, hand-clap" thing, because I was TOTALLY doing it my head.

Of course... if you don't like Asia, then there's always http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JcmOe2geZ4Q&feature=related instead, which is just as entertaining in its own way.

Yeah... sorry. I'm pretty sure all this heat is starting to affect my brain. I'll try to steer clear of blogging until it cools down juuust a bit.

And now I am off to watch some mindless television, because I think that's about all I can handle at the moment...

P.S. One of these days, I promise I'll learn how to stick a word or two in place of the whole entire website. Grrr.

We're gonna sleep gooooood tonight

Things I managed to fit into just one day:

1. The little man's birthday party. Which, in case you were wondering, consisted mostly of girl guests. Turns out my little dude is quite the ladies' man. We decided on a venue of McDonalds this year, mainly because having it there meant that I didn't have to do any of the work. And they were awesome about everything, so it made me feel a little less guilty about feeding my own children (and several others) completely unhealthy food.

2. A trip to the town beach. Brian called almost immediately after the party, and asked if I wanted to take the kids to the lake. Now, I'm not exactly sure what Brian was thinking, since he had been at the birthday party with his son, and was as exhausted as I was, but I gladly went because, hey, how many gorgeous 85-degree days do we get in New Hampshire? Answer: not many. Guess what, though? Lake water in early June is fricking FREEZING. We haven't had enough sunny hot days to warm it up properly, so while the kids thought it was great, Brian and I nearly froze to death.

3. Laundry. One of my least favorite chores, but if I do it on Saturday, then I get Sunday to relax. So this is the one area where I try my hardest not to procrastinate.

4. Grocery shopping. Another chore/errand that I'm not particularly fond of. Add that to the fact that my children were having an extremely hard time listening (probably due to the overabundance of sugar/sun they got today), and it made for a slightly nightmarish shopping trip.

But now all of that is done, which means that I can actually enjoy my Sunday. And just so you know, this particular Sunday it's supposed to reach temperatures of 95 degrees or so. The kids and I have plans to spend the majority of the day outside at Krutchy's softball game, and I've already started a mental list of all the things that I need. At the top: sunscreen, sunscreen and more sunscreen. Because after last week's burn (which is just now, very attractively I might add, starting to peel off like crazy), I'm smartening up.

And now, I think I'll go crash in my bed for about 10 hours.

Burp

Want to know what my absolute favorite thing about my children is?

Their senses of humor.

I don't know how many times I've heard from random strangers that my kids are extremely happy... but every single time it makes me smile. The little man, especially, is hardly ever without a grin on his face. Have you ever tried being sad or angry with two little rays of sunshine constantly in your general vicinity? It's nearly impossible.

So last night at the restaurant, the little man was doing his thing, working the room. He adores being the center of attention, and apparently decided that burping was the way to do that. So (like an idiot), I encouraged him, asking, "Can you burp the alphabet?" He assured me he could, and went on to attempt to prove it:

"Urp: that was an A. Urp: that was a B. Urp: that was a C."

And then... of course...

"Urp: that was a fart."

I'll admit it, my son has no class. But he IS pretty darn hilarious, and personally I think that's far more important.

Farmer wants a wha...?

There's a good possiblity that reality tv is reaching even lower lows in "Farmer Wants a Wife." The dude totally just broke up with one of the girls by putting her name in fireworks in front of the whole town at the county fair. However, does that mean I don't watch the show? Heeeeell no. I am, apparently, a glutton for punishment. *Sigh*

So tomorrow is Jenni's birthday, and since her wonderful husband is taking her on some kind of surprise trip to celebrate, our family got together tonight instead. The ten of us met at our favorite local Chinese restaurant and chowed down, before heading back to my apartment for some delish cake with whipped cream and fruit on top. Oh-so-yummy.

I love hanging out with my family. Sure, we argue... we're a normal family. But it's also completely obvious that we all love each other to pieces. And when we're together, we laugh a TON. So yay, Jenni! Thank you for having a birthday. ;o)

Biker dude

The little man turned 5 a week and a half ago.

Today, he learned to ride a two-wheeler. He just looked at me and said, "Mommy, can you take the training wheels off my bike?" So I did, figuring that I'd be putting them back on within a couple of minutes. Only, he totally proved me wrong. I gave him a couple of little pushes and that little guy was off and riding.

My kids are growing up way, way, way too fast.

Cock-a-doodle DON'T

Ok, I'm supposed to be blogging about "home," so here goes: Want to know what woke me up this morning (hey, it works with the NaBloPoMo theme... I was HOME when I was asleep)? A rooster. At, like, 5 am. A fricking ROOSTER, for goodness sake!

Anyway, down to the real business of today's blog:

Today I was working at the adult desk and a guy came in to see if we had a fax machine he could use. We don't. I mean, we HAVE one, we just don't allow the public to use it because we're mean like that. Anyway, I kind of wish we did, because (and I am SO not kidding here) this guy looked EXACTLY like Mark Wahlberg. I mean, not dirty and scruffy like Mark Wahlberg usually looks in his movies. He was all clean-cut and nicely dressed, but still...

And yes, I will admit, I have been absolutely and completely sure that I saw movie stars in random places before. Most memorably, Richard Dreyfuss in the Dalles, Oregon; and Greg Kinnear in Port Clyde, Maine. My family STILL picks on me for the possible Richard Dreyfuss sighting, and that happened 13 years ago. So I hesitate to mention things like this.

But seriously, people. This guy was a dead-ringer for MW. And you never know... it COULD have been him. I'm just sayin'... I think he was kind of looking at me like he was waiting for me to say something. I didn't take the bait, though. No way was I gonna be like, "Hey, has anyone ever told you that you look JUST like Mark Wahlberg?" He probably gets that all the time.

Ok, I know you're all thinking, "Would she just shut up about Mark Wahlberg already?" You're right. Shutting up now. But if he comes in again... I'm not making any promises.

(Too?) young at heart.

So my thirteen year-old niece is here for two months. The rest of the year, she lives in North Dakota with her mom, but for 8 lovely weeks, WE get her all to ourselves. And the good news is, she's fairly awesome, as far as teens go. I've been told (and know, from personal experience) that teen girls are generally pretty horrendous, but S is nothing of the kind. At least not when I'm around... ;)

Anyway, yesterday I drove to Shea's house so we could do some girl bonding. (That would be pizza and Game Cube, naturally.) And when I got there, I realized something. My niece and I were both wearing outfits from Aeropostale (which, for the record, wasn't even founded until I was 7 years old). The only differences were that my shorts were shorter, and I was wearing a tank top while she was wearing a t-shirt. Hmmm.

Just so you know, in my professional life, I dress completely appropriately. Or, at least pretty darn close to my age. But when I have a day off... apparently I dress like a teenager. According to my sister, sometimes that comes across as a little hoochie-mama-ish.

And guess what? I have no plans to change that any time soon. So there.

P.S. Today I signed up for NaBloPoMo's June theme, which is Home. I'm supposed to blog every day again... so let's see if I did better than I did in November.

Young at heart

Fact: I'm turning 28 in less than two weeks.

Fact: Emilee decided she needed to take a sick day today, so I went to her school to pick her up right after lunchtime.

Fact: There was a woman in the office who I've never met before, and we had this conversation:

Her: Can I help you?
Me: I'm here to pick up my daughter.
Her: Whose class is she in?
Me: (insert teacher's name here).
Her: You're probably gonna laugh, but at first I thought you were the high school girl who volunteers here.

Fact: That woman totally made my rainy Tuesday.

Secrets

Confessions:

1. I don't know how to use chopsticks. I've been taught; I've just never been able to figure it out. What I need are those cute little ones that are tied together for kids, because I can totally work those things.

2. Sometimes when people use big words that I don't know, I pretend to understand by just nodding my head. I've actually been called on it a few times.

3. This weekend, I cleaned my pantry for the first time in 3 1/2 years. In other words, it hasn't been clean and/or organized since the day I moved in.

4. I looove balogna and cheese sandwiches. And no, I don't care what balogna is made out of.

5. I reminisce a little too often. It's probably not all that healthy.

6. I've only just started recycling.

7. I can't have different foods on the same plate touching each other. And if anyone ever has the audacity to tell me I have to eat my dessert on my dinner plate (grandparents are famous for doing this), I wash my plate (and utensil) off first.

8. I love the ocean, but it also scares me a little.

9. I am a lurker on a crap-ton of blogs. I wonder if the authors of those blogs care.

10. I wish I had a dog.

Tweet, tweet.

So, I just signed up for Twitter. The only problem is that I don't actually know anyone else who uses it, so it's basically just a whole lot of me posting, "eating a peanut butter a jelly sandwich," or, "twiddling my thumbs." Exciting, I know. I signed up for it because I'm nosy, and now I get to read what random people are doing all day. However, I'd much rather read what people I actually know are up to.

Rawr.

Bounce, sausages.

The other day, I was picking apart some rotisserie chicken to put in a salad that I was making for lunch, and suddenly I had this thought that oh my gosh, ew, I was ripping cooked animal flesh. And for just a moment, I wondered if maybe I should go vegetarian.

Two days later, I accidentally bought Morningstar brand sausages. Now, I didn’t know this until Tim enlightenend me (after, of course, I had already eaten a sausage link), but apparently that company only makes vegetarian foods. And holy crap, you guys. That shiznit was nasty. All mushy-smooshy inside, and the one link I managed to choke down tasted nothing like the sausage I’m used to eating. When I first put it on the kids’ plates, Gavin astutely remarked, "That looks like poop." Yup. And tastes like it too (I mean, I inagine that’s what poop tastes like... I haven’t actually tried it, to be honest with you.)

Anyway, the morals of this story?

1. I could never be a vegetarian. Maybe I should just stop preparing my own meals and hire a chef. That way, I don’t have to ever actually touch my food with my fingers, and I won’t even think about chicken flesh.

2. Oh my word, if you only ever take one piece of advice from me, let it be this: don’t eat vegetarian sausage, unless you enjoy feeling like you’re going to barf.

3. I don’t even care that I spent, like, 4 bucks on ten sausage links. Those things are SO in the garbage.

The end.

It sucks.

I think I'm in love.

Like, head-over-heels, no-doubt-about-it, shout-it-to-the-heavens in love.

With my vacuum cleaner.

While I was in Florida, I was lamenting the fact that my cheapo Wal-Mart vacuum cleaner doesn't actually suck anything up, (go figure... you get what you pay for, right?) and hooray, hooray, hooray! Mom and Dad just happened to have two extra vacuum cleaners, and offered me one of them. It's one of those teensy-weensy Eureka bagless jobbys, so not only can I easily vacuum the floor when it's covered in dirt that the kids drag in on their winter boots, but now I can get the little ones to clean up, too. My vacuum is THAT small and portable. Score!

And now that I'm rereading my post, I can't believe I thought that was exciting enough to blog about.

I apologize. Profusely. But it's staying up, because honestly, if it's even possible to be in love with an inanimate object... I totally am.

131.2

Yes, that’s how many inches of snow we’ve had this year. And that, my friends, is a record. Boo-yeah. We totally rock. Can I get a what-what?

And now I’m gonna change the subject so I don’t continue being such a lame-o.

Today at work, a man in his 70’s came to the desk to ask me where the tax forms were, and since I was heading in that direction anyway, I led him to them. As he was leaving, he said to me, "You’re a good girl." For some reason, it reminded me of my Grampie Siegel, and as I was driving home from work I got that chokey feeling that I STILL have once in awhile, even though he’s been gone for a year. And while that feeling totally sucks, it makes me smile just a little bit. Because I was lucky enough to have this amazing person in my life for almost 27 whole years. I have this completely awesome family, and some people just don’t. I have friends who don’t talk to/spend time with their immediate family, let alone the extended relatives.

(Sorry... sometimes when I get down about things, it helps to remind myself how very blessed I really am. And today, you people were the lucky recipients of my reminder. So, thanks for listening).

Duck, duck, goose.

Yesterday, a good-looking guy around my age, who I've never met before in my life, threw a stuffed duck at me. When it landed at my feet, it went, "quack, quack." Then he giggled. Like, actually giggled. For a while. (I should probably take a second to tell you that I was in a toy store at the time).

To be honest with you, I'm not sure what that whole exchange was about, but I thought it deserved mention for three reasons:

1. I don't get flirted with by strangers that often.
2. When I do, they don't generally throw stuff at me. At least, not since I was 16 or so.
3. Although cute, that guy was probably slightly insane, which just goes to show... it's REALLY hard to meet normal, non-crazy men.

And when I DO meet non-crazy men, they have the tendency to confuse the heck out of me. Maybe I should stick to the cuckoo ones...

Say it ain't snow

So my view out my living room window is now officially blocked by snow.

Yay.

I swear, if I didn't have sisters, friends and potential boyfriends tying me down here, I'd SO be buying my grandparents' old Florida home, and moving in IMMEDIATELY.

*Sigh*

Hurry up, vacation.