The nuthouse is run by an almond.

I came in to work early today (I know SHOCKING) and found Glynda staring up at the ceiling near one of the exam rooms. I didn’t think anything of it and chalked it up to spider-web searching but then she came into the business office and stared up at the corner near the copy machine. So I jokingly asked “are we being attacked by spiders?” and she responded.

Glynda:
No. I’m just trying to see if I can find any wires or little holes in the ceiling.

Bee:
Oh? What kind of wires?

Glynda:
I think OZ has this place bugged but I can’t figure out where he would have placed the microphones.

Bee:
Uhm… You don’t really think he’d go that far, do you? [in the meantime I’m making sure the phones work in case I have to call for those dudes with the straight jackets]

Glynda:
I wouldn’t put it past him. This is why you should never say anything bad about him because he’ll know.

Bee:
Using that logic, shouldn’t he be storming the building right now? You know, because the jig is up?

Glynda [looking genuinely panicked]:
You’re right! [looks around then sighs] I don’t think he’ll say anything though because then he’ll be confirming what I suspected and have to remove the bugs.

Bee:
Yeaaaaaah. What brought this on?

Glynda:
You know that account you gave me yesterday? He asked me about it before I even brought it up. That means he must be listening in!

Bee:
Well, it could be a coincidence—

Glynda:
No. I know he’s listening in!

Bee [I nod my agreement because I don't want her to dismember my body and bury it next to the tulips out front]:
Hmmm maybe we should start looking for nanny cams too…

Glynda:
You think so?

Off she went on a nanny cam hunt.

Last year, she was 100% sure OZ had changed the paint color of his car and was hanging out in the parking lot. He was on vacation. IN EUROPE.

And that lady’s and gents is the office manager at Arkham Asylum.

So, this pig virus…

Have I mentioned that I work in an office with 100% Caucasians? By that I mean they are all of Anglo descent with no spicy additives. ;op

Anyway, now that we are in near epidemic mode, they (the bats) feel I have all the answers to the causes and cures to the swine flu because it originated in México. Believe it or not, I don’t. I am as much in the know as the rest of the population… only better looking.

I’m not one to jump on the bandwagon of headline stories but this one is hitting close to home. I'm worried about all my family in México. Especially my grandparents. My grandfather has always been more like a father to me and I know that he will eventually be taken from this world but I am not ready to even think about that.

My papi and I.

I think it’s interesting how people take this type of news.

Conspiracy Theorist:
My brother Rick is arguing it’s not real and that there is something fishy going on but I blame that on the fact that he was whacked on the head.

Religionistssss:
While having dinner yesterday, my mom was saying how the Bible predicts plagues and natural disasters etc. She said the signs were all around us.

I had to finally say that, for centuries, there have been other diseases that killed off large portions of the population. Most recently was SARS and the bird flu. Before that there was the Ebola virus scare in the 90s and let’s never forget cancer. All I’m trying to say is we should take precautions but not continue with the doomsday predictions. Specifically during dinner when I’m trying to eat my tacos.

I will never understand people’s need to know what their future will hold. I’ve been living by the seat of my pants for years and have just prayed for the best. It’s usually worked out okay for me. Granted, I wish I would have known how much of a clunker my first car would be but I don’t know if I would have listened to Nostradamus’ or the Mayans’ prediction of it leaving me stranded in the middle of a left turn and blocking traffic.

I’m not saying they might not be right or to disregard the Bible but why would anybody live their lives with a dark cloud hanging over their heads? I can control my own destiny by being a decent human being, taking care of the people I love, working, eating lots of chocolate, not committing any crimes, etc. If a time comes when I know that it’s the end of the road for me, I hope to be able to take it in stride and accept things I cannot change (I probably won't take it well and cry like a pansy but don't tell anybody!).

I personally think the swine thing might be more serious and they are keeping the gory details so that pandemonium doesn’t erupt. Does that make me a realist or a pessimist? I don't know but for now, I am going to get up every morning, late as usual, run around the house chanting my remembrance song, swear at the dogs, jump into my mini tank, drive my ass to the asylum and grit my teeth until 5 o’clock. Such is the price to pay for paradise.

Also, if I sneeze, I don’t want everybody in the office walking around with scuba gear just because I have family in México. It’s a little insulting and if they keep giving me shit, I'm going to start wearing gas masks to stave off The Ladies of Perpetual Flatulence (the bats).

Take care of yourselves and don't eat too many bananas.

Rain more rain and some more rain and then some more rain and then a jackass.

Okay, I need you all to do me a solid and tie up Mother Nature. I have been dying to start my gardening but the April TORRENTIAL RAIN Showers keep screwing with my head. I can't afford to lose any more of my mind. I'm running on empty as it is.

Picture this.

Friday, I get home from work, after having a fight with OZ, and I was ready for some therapeutic gardening. Instead I had to walk with Andy to pick up his car (which they didn't fix 100% and said "oh, you have to LIFT the door and slam it a couple times until it closes" uhm noooo! how about you fix it right and earn the 3 grand you're charging, assholes?) and by the time we got home it started raining and didn't stop.

Saturday, I was waiting and waiting for OFF! bug body spray to combat the damn chiggers (I know it may not stop the damn chiggers but I was going to put it on anyway) but when it finally arrived, courtesy of my sister, it was pouring.

Sunday, I went outside and danced around the patio admiring the sun, singing some random show tune when a mysterious tiny cloud multiplied and began to emit drops of liquid. But I didn't cry.

Monday, we had dinner and then went to the home improvement store and were cheerfully loading up Andy's work truck with edger brick thingies, stepping stones and drywall thinking we would be able to unload the truck before the rain came. Wrong! There is nothing like slipping and sliding through mud while carrying 40lbs of brick in each hand. My goal was to not go SPLAT!

On a positive note, chiggers don't swim so I'm hoping the rain has diminished the hive/herd/flock/swarm/potato chip.

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I left work early today so I could take Andy's car back to those crazy misfits who "" fixed "" his car since they said it would only take 15 minutes to adjust the back door. I sat in the waiting room, waiting, and when the dude called me to give me the car, he said to me:

Crazy Misfit:

When you go to close the door, you have to slam it shut so it'll close. It's a heavy door. You have to slam it shut. Because it's heavy-

Bee:

Just to be clear, I need to slam it shut? Wait. Stand back because I'm gonna try it. (I open the door and then close it normal-like). Like that you mean? Did I do it right?

I think I passed the test because he gave me the keys. Phew! I'm glad my woman brain didn't get in the way.

(picture is from last year when Andy backed into my car)

Hope the rest of you had a nice dry weekend. But don't tell me about it.

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..."-Andy is so embarrassed...

...because he fell asleep before he could draw this week's comic.

He has been working hard on my mom's floor so I think I'll let this week slide.

P.S.

Yes, Andy needs a haircut. (or all his hairs cut, DAN!)

P.P.S.

That is Mocha. Not some rabid squirrel.

For old "Bee n' Andy"s <--Click there

If I ever find a new job, I'm taking Norm with me.

Do you guys remember Norm? The Building Manager? That I “” interviewed “” a little bit ago?

Well I was on my way to the ladies room when I noticed he was leaning against the wall near the ladies room door. Being the NOSEY curious person I am and also knowing a bunch of old people comments, I asked “What are ya’? Holding up the wall?” he laughed and waved me over.

Norm:
Some women have complained that they’ve caught a guy standing right outside the bathroom when they leave and he pretends he’s putting something in the mailbox.

Bee:
Uh weird.

Norm:
You haven’t seen him, have you?

Bee:
Nope. I would have smashed his face. Is that why you’re standing there? To see if you see him?

Norm:
Yeah I figured I’d revert to my cop days and have a mini stake out.

Bee:
Norm, it won’t work if he sees you! Maybe you should borrow a tall plant and stand behind that?

Norm:
Don’t be silly! I have the general description and images from the security camera so I’m hoping I’ll recognize him if he walks by. He usually stands by the door for a few minutes then leaves the building.

Bee:
What are you gonna do? Tackle him? Can I help? I have some pent up aggression—

Norm:
Someone’s coming! Go into the bathroom!

I ran over to the door, fumbled with the key and went in. All my urgency to pee was gone. I heard Norm talking to someone but then nothing so I came out to see if he needed any help.

Norm:
False alarm.

Bee:
Well now I can’t go.

Norm:
Why don’t you use the bathroom in your office.

Bee:
LONG STORY! What does the guy do? Can you see him clearly in the security camera?

Norm:
The pervert just stands really close to the door.  I don’t even want to know what he’s doing!

Bee:
I still don’t think he’ll make an appearance if he knows you’re here. Why don’t you stand in the stairway? (the stairway door and the bathroom door are across from each other)

Norm:
Look, I don’t want to get any closer to that door than need be. Next thing you know people are going to be complaining about me!

Bee:
I have to go back to work. [I was really sad and disappointed] Can you tell me if you catch the perp?

Norm:
No. You already know too much. Why are you so interested anyway? [he looks at me suspiciously]

Bee:
I'm thinking of writing a book.

Norm:
[rolls eyes] Skedaddle already!

 

Some people have all the fun! And also, I will now be holding it (by it I mean IT!) until I get home.

 

Side Milton Story:

Milton:
That’s a pretty banana you’re eating.

Bee:
Milton, that sounded obscene.

Milton:
(giggles) Sorry. Where did you buy them?

Bee:
Jewel or Shop-n-save I think.

Milton:
I bought some pears at shop-n-save this weekend and I noticed yesterday they overcharged me for them. The pound was 89¢ and they charged me 99¢. I went over there and it took me an hour to get an adjustment!

Bee:
How many pounds did you buy?

Milton:
One pound. I know a dime isn’t a lot but it’s the principle.

Bee:
Yesterday was Earth day and you drove 20 minutes round trip and argued for an hour for 10¢? You’re killing the planet! 

Sure she fishes toilet paper rolls out of the garbage to recycle them but the ozone can suck it I guess.

Damn chiggers!

Okay you guys. If you were trying to distract me from the recent events by scaring the shit out of me regarding the chiggers? You succeeded! I discovered two other bites and now I'm constantly itching. I am going to take Nurselizy's advice and drown the suckers out with nail polish but I ran out of black so I have to wait to go buy more. Andy says I should use clear nail polish instead of black but what does he know? It's not like I'm gonna be flashing my butt all over Chicagoland. If I do, I'll give you a call ::wink:: (hope that scared you like you scared me!)

To cheer myself up, I decided to order me up some new gym shoes.

They're on backorder which is a total bummer but I will finally be able to remain at a decent height when I take off my heels and do athletic things like walking to my front door to get the mail. I'm getting the black ones in case you're wondering (which is why I need the black nail polish).

Anyway, I just wanted to say I hope you're happy that now I'm thinking these little chiggers will be the death of me. I always thought it would be bacon.

Just dusting off the cobwebs and forcefully moving the squatter who was sitting on my blog.

So that was weird. I think this is the longest I’ve been away from the old blog… kind of pathetic really since that might mean I don’t have a life. And if I don’t have a life, what the hell am I always going on about? I have no idea either.

Thanks for the well wishes (and offers to assist me in my pursuit of vengeance). My brother is better and has regained his usual smart-ass-ness. He still doesn’t remember anything which I guess might be a blessing.

Saturday he was debating if he should walk the block to Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robins to get an ice cream cone. I told him to give me a minute while I suited up in my protective armor and went with him as his bodyguard. He laughed because he has the same twisted sense of humor I do. But I was serious.

While waiting for some dryers to open up at the Laundromat Monday night, Andy asked me if I was going to do a post. I told him I couldn’t find humor in anything at the moment. He thought for a second and then said:

“Maybe you’re blocked” (ewww)

Uh no. I could sit down right now and type up 20 stories but they would all be scornful, hateful observations and I don’t feel like going down that road.

Take for example the Polish guy at the Laundromat who decided to take up every fucking dryer and only put 4 items of clothing in each one while Andy and I had to wait with our clothes in a cart. Instead of me coming up with an amusing name for him, all I could come up with was ball-sack sucking sheep fucker. In my head, the scenario I had for his retribution was me gutting him and then putting his organs in one of his dryers.

Since I’d rather not put such negative thoughts into the pureness of the webisphere, I was refraining from posting.

However!

This morning I saw a guy come out of his car wearing a business suit and an Indiana Jones hat. How could you not find the humor in a dude trying to bring back the Indy hat?

So I decided to put pen to paper, so to speak, and try to find the funny in the weekend happenings. I must warn you, I'm a little rusty.

I started my gardening on Saturday. Why didn’t anybody tell me about hoes? I bought one and am now in love! That thing is the shiznit! I loosened up the soil in minutes instead of hours (it used to take me hours because I used a HAND trowel)(for those of you non-gardeners, that’s a step up from a spoon).

While doing my gardening, I was listening to my neighbor Wilson’s grandkids. There is one in particular who seems a tad on the odd side. While the other little boys are jumping from their tree house and burning insects, this one was singing such classics as “Here comes the bride” and “That’s the way, uhhuh uhhuh, I like it” which, what the hell kind of combination is that? Nobody picks on him though because that little dude looks like he’ll eat you whole and then poop out your shoes without breaking a sweat.

The hoeing around calmed my nerves down even though my body was baptized for the season by its first bug bite. Did it have to be on my butt? Bastards.

When I told Milton about the bite she said it might me chiggers and I was like ‘Uh can you de-countrify that for me?’ She patiently explained that there are these teeny tiny little bugs that are in grass and like to bite people. So there you have it ladies and gents, I’m infested with chiggers and they are feeding off my flesh and blood to make bigger fatter mutant bugs. Coming to a town near you.

On Sunday we had to pick up the work truck Andy will be using while his car is getting liposuction. Weekend driving and I do not get along which is why I married Andy. I was all complainy the whole way there and my bitching got worse once we noticed the road we needed to take was closed off so we had to take a detour.

That was fine while Andy was still driving but I know only 4 streets out here in the burbs so I would have to follow him closely on the way back otherwise I'd end up in Wisconsin. No offense to Wisconsin.

The drive back home was eventful. I'd forgotten my cellphone (eeek!) so Andy and I could not communicate. I noticed he was sticking his arm out of the window and making the "L" shape with his finger and thumb. I thought, make a left? He waved frantically 'no' was he calling me a loser? I'd totally ram the back of the van RIGHT NOW! Impatient with my lack of understanding, he pulled over, I pulled over, he jumps out of the car, I roll down my window he yells, "Turn your lights on! Cheesus!" You do a guy a favor...

We also found out why the road was closed and littered with cops. There were Na≠i (I don’t need more hate mongers on my blog so the “z” will be “≠”) demonstrators picketing the new opening of a Holocaust Museum with their Na≠i flags and propaganda. I later yelled at Andy for making me drive through those fashion victims (come on guys, black fatigues, black jackets, black combat boots and no hair? How about some kicky pink head scarves? Add some color!) because they would have let him go with no problems once he flashed his blue eyes. I, on the other hand, would have been taken to use as a sacrifice to their backwards-god and hello? With all the extra fat I’m carrying, I’d burn easy.

I was going to post a picture as proof because Andy took a picture for me but he's not answering my calls. I could go over to the dungeon and ask him for it but that would involve me moving something other than my fingers. Meh. I decided to make my own.

I managed to drive by undetected.

Well, that's about all I guess.

Sometimes there just isn't anything to laugh about.

Today I’m at my other blog “Take a Walk on the Dark Side” because I feel shitty and bitter and impotent and can’t seem to find the funny. Go there at your own risk because I can guarantee you there will be nothing to smile about.

Because of those events, I’ll be taking a couple of days off of blogging so I may stabilize my emotions.

I'll see you guys on the flip side.

Stinky breath, bad hair, cold feet, in-laws*... THINGS ONE PUTS UP WITH WHEN MARRIED!

The young years

So, EIGHT LOOOONG YEARS!

Who would have thunk a shorty from the West Side and a comic book guy, I MEAN, Graphic Novel Connoisseur from the Northwest Side (almost suburbs) would last this long?

Our ethnic differences alone were something we needed to embrace. I, for example, like ketchup AND MAYO on my hot dog and he was all about NO ketchup and mayo on his hot dog. He came to his senses and now gets the yummy combination.

I think our marriage has lasted this long -EIGHT LOOOONG YEARS- due to the fact the we have never really listened to any marriage advice. Yep. We are just that awesome.

Most of the time.

But seriously folks, he's a great guy who looks after me, my momma and other members of my family with little complaint (some rants about lack of privacy and his inability to walk around naked and such but really bad naked needs to be stopped)(kidding babe). He puts up with my constant mood swings and attitude with a calm only a horse whisperer could understand.

I put up with a lot of his crap too, though. For example, all the constant hugging? I only complain about it 75% of the time. The phone calls at all hours of the day when I'm trying to work? I only yell at him after the 10th call. The fact that he loves doing laundry drives me INSANE!

He's not the mushy romantic type and can often be heard saying loving things like "Stop fidgeting! I'm trying to give you a hug, dumbass!" or "Oh poor Bee. Her husband loves her too much waaaaaah waaaah! Jerk."

My heart? It goes pitter patter.

Anyway, here is the interview with the awesome man I am lucky enough to call my hussss uh my hussss-band. (But don't ask me about him tomorrow because the meds might have worn off):

Hey babe, you may know me as the person who complains every morning because she slept on the measly 3 inches of bed your stingy butt will allow. Remember I will be the only one asking questions and I will write down everything you say and post it exactly as you say it.

Andy: You want funny? I will be Mr. Anti-Funny!

Bee: Look at that! You changed your name from Mr. Ding-Dong! [Andy throws paper towel at my head]

Here goes:

How does it feel like to be married to me for this long?

a) Like a bucket of chocolate covered strawberries with a vanilla coke chaser

b) Like a bucket full of swords with a tequila chaser

c) Like a bucket full of rainbows and furry animals

d) Give your own example

Andy: Furry animals? Like what rats and stuff?

Bee: Sure, Andy, rats because rats are ROMANTIC!

Andy: Well, I thought the multiple choices would be 2 bad ones and one good one so I thought the good one was chocolate strawberries and vanilla coke chaser. Umm well you like strawberries and vanilla coke so that, I guess?

Bee: ::sigh:: This isn't starting well.

Andy: What? I gave the right answer right? And don't tell me it's subjective because I'll scratch my balls again. Don't add that into the interview, okay? Why are you writing it down?

Bee: I said I'd write everything you said down. I don't make the rules, babe.

What do you really think of my cooking? And “it gives me gas” is not an answer.

Andy: [thinks thinks thinks shrugs denies he shrugged] it's fine you should do it more often.

Bee: I am not slaving over a hot stove for a "fine".

How do you feel about me broadcasting all our personal life drama on the webisphere? And “it gives me gas” is not an answer.

Andy: I have nothing to hide as long as you tell people I have a big-

Bee: ANDY! Your mom is going to read this!

Andy: [laughs] What? What'd you think I was going to say? I was going to say heart!

Bee: When did you know I was the awesomest chick you would ever meet and therefore decided to stop searching?

Andy: Stop searching? OUCH! You want funny? You get funny!

Bee: If you could only save one person's life and it was between me and Angelina Jolie, who would you save?

Andy: [hahahahahaha] Uh you obviously!

Bee: Are your fingers crossed?

Andy: No! I'm just cold! Sheesh woman, jealous much? Why don't you talk about the fact that you don't want women cutting my hair?

Bee: No, I said a woman could cut your hair as long as she was a beefy lesbian.

Andy: That seems very abnormal to me, buttercup.

Bee: Pffft! Normal is for blood pressure readings.

What is your favorite dish?

Andy: Now does that mean what do I like to eat or something I had once and was like "Wow!"? [at the rolling of my eyes] What? That's a valid question! Your question was too broad!

Bee: Don't blame the questions, babe. Why do you make things so complicated?

Andy: [scratches head] I can't help it. I'm a complicated man [looks puzzled because I burst into laughter] COMPLEX! I meant complex!

Bee: No, complicated is right.

Now for the last question, HOPEFULLY IT'S NOT TOO BROAD, who do you think would win in a battle between a Vampire Ninja and a Telatubby?

Andy: Is that areal question?

Bee: What do you mean "real" It's real because I'm asking it!

Andy: Let me see that paper. [reads my notes] Why would you ask that question? What is a Vampire Ninja?

Bee: Obviously it is the coolest of ninjas because it is both a Vampire AND a Ninja.

Andy: A Teletubby? Are those those weird alien things on TV?

Bee: Are you talking about The Desperate Housewives actresses and their over stretched alien faces? No. I meant the colorful ones that babies are hypnotized by.

Andy: Why do parents let their kids watch that crap?

Bee: I don't know- hey! Focus!

Andy: What was the question again?

Bee: I'm going to bed.

Andy: Sorry! What was it?

Bee: You'll have to read it on my blog tomorrow.

Andy: Uh, I'm kinda busy tomorrow since the guild--

Bee: Andy! Tomorrow is our anniversary! For being married! EIGHT LOOONG YEARS!

Andy: Oh right. Want to go to Yu's Mandarin?

Bee: Not with you.

THE END!

P.S.
Andy and I have known each other for almost 14 years. Yeah.

*Just kidding! Maybe.

Holy crap! Who knew being ill would not stop me from rambling on and on and on and on? ♫♪Hey Mr. Dj—♫♪

Okay my brain still has the acumen of applesauce (and the same consistency) in that neither could form a thought to save itself from being eaten by toddlers... I really don’t know what that means.

I want to thank you guys for being so nice to me and wishing me health. If I sound shocked it’s because I am. In fact, I was so shocked I was thinking about you while I was in the bathroom debating whether I should leave the door unlocked in case I keeled over so that Andy wouldn’t have to break the door down. Don’t ask me why that thought popped into my head but it did and I’m all about sharing.

Anyway, on Friday OZ let us leave at 1pm. That was awesome for many reasons but the main one was that I would be able to take niece Natalia to the movies to see Hannah Montana (totally against my will, you understand) earlier than planned. I had called my mom and told her of the possibility of me getting home early so I asked her to make sure Natalia was ready to leave. When I got home she was still in her froggy pajamas (my niece, not my mom)! So I had to wait and wait while she diva’d herself up.

I’m sure all of you have intelligent children and/or nieces/nephews etc but I have to say that my niece is way smarter than all those kids you know. Sorry but it’s true. As she was strapping herself into her booster seat, she was questioning my logic in getting to the movies so early because hello? we would have to wait longer and then she might have to go to the potty and “you hate public restrooms, Tia Bee”. I told her there would probably be a long line of teeny little girls just like her waiting to see the movie and we must MUST get a good a seat! Then she distracted me by asking “I don’t suppose you’d want to buy me a blue icee, right?” Her wish is my command.

Now, call me naïve if you want but I thought since it was early in the day, the throng of obsessed little girls would wait until the later shows… DEHN! I was so wrong. I did get approval from my 6 year old niece though when she said “hmmm you were right in us getting here early. Look at all these little girls!” I bought our tickets and then felt a little jealous when they gave her some Hannah Montana cards but I got nuthin’! How about something for the adults, Disney? Maybe a Shirtless Stud cards? I'm just sayin'.

While we were waiting in the roped out area (and she was slurping away on her blue icee, sticking her tongue out at me and being all wiggly), there were moms leaving their daughters standing in line while they went to get snacks. All the little girls had a friend with them and I felt bad because my niece was just stuck with me. I guess I could have asked her to bring a friend but I’m not very good with other people’s children. I’d probably forget about them and they’d be sitting in my car while I was enjoying my nachos.

One little girl cracked me up. Her mom and some other lady were making stupid jokes. Saying stuff like “I hope I don’t lose control and start singing!” and “Ooh! We should have brought our Hannah scarves!” when they went to go get snacks the little girls says to her friend “my mom is such a dork! I don’t know why she thinks she’s being cool since Hannah is for young people and she’s so old!” friend asks “How old is she?” daughter answers “I don’t know like 50 or 30? She has a blog though so she thinks she’s cool”

The hell you say little girl!

INTERMISSION!

If you’re bored, go on down to the Announcement portion of this post. I won’t get mad.

And we're back!

Once we settled into our seats (let me remind you of my perfectly thought out seating plan of being directly in the middle of the row in case people have to use the bathroom or need another soda, they either go to the left of me or to the right but never have to walk in front of me because that wouldn’t make any sense) I found out my niece has no nacho-eating-etiquette for you see, little miss thing does not like cheese on her nachos.

While I argued that nachos were all about THE CHEESE she diplomatically said “I’m not telling you HOW to eat your nachos. I’m just asking you to keep the cheese in the cup and not spread it all over the chips. How do you know you don’t like dipping the chips in the cheese unless you try it first?” ahhh sooooo, the student becomes a big pain in the butt.

I refuse to admit to liking this way better!

After waiting half an hour for the show to start and the theater slowly getting to a deafening pitch, I looked around and then I broke out in a cold sweat. The amount of kids in there were enough to make me have a panic attack but wors was suddenly realizing that if Natalia had to go to the bathroom, there would be no one to save our seats and then we would be the ones stepping on people as we walked along our row. I almost asked her if she needed to make a quick pit stop before the movie started but then I was afraid that power of suggestion would be my worst enemy so I kept my mouth shut.

The movie was good but the best part was watching her sit at the edge of her seat and then take control of the arm rest while a chick in her 20s lost. THAT is my little girl! I didn’t get to see the last little blurb of the movie while the credits were rolling because she had to go to the potty. While we fought our way out of the theater and made our way to the bathrooms, where I beat an older lady to a stall so Natalia could go in, I was glad it was just she and I for I proved I could survive preteen Hannahmania and not have a mental breakdown in the middle of it.

Natalia survived too, even though she didn’t want to share her Hannah Montana cards.

Announcements!

There will be no "Brian reviews…" on Thursday because it is Andy’s anniversary of the day he got lucky enough to make me his wife so I will post his interview then.

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Apparently BlogHer is meeting in Chicago in July and I must have been living under a rock because I didn’t know. I am now getting bombarded (not really) with people wanting to meet me in THE FACE TO FACE which I am still debating because I’m all about mystery. I might be persuaded to make an appearance if say, they buy me some Mojitos, Piña Coladas and a maid. My brother Rick just said he'd go and pretend to be me. I told him it would kind of work only people might notice because he has a penis. Besides, I have way more facial hair.

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Also, Easter was postponed due to my illness so I will be having it on Sunday but nobody is invited. Jesus would want it that way.

The germs- the germs- the germs are on fire!

For weeks I avoided the dreaded black lung plague. My immune system was able to resist little babies who coughed and sneezed in my face. It was able to fight off all the germs carried by the moms of those same babies who touched my things. It Karate chopped the microbes the ladies at work spread throughout the office while they touched the copy machine and printer. I didn't want to brag to you guys that I had avoided getting sick the whole season because I was afraid to jinx myself.

On Friday I felt kind of crappy but I pushed through. On Saturday I felt a little worse but I threatened myself into getting out of bed and with positive thinking I did all the chores on my list. 

It was all over on Sunday.

I knew it was bad when I couldn't move the blanket because it was too heavy. I knew it was really really bad when I had no appetite and my sweet heaven's elixir, COFFEE, turned my stomach. I walked around the house like a 109 year old lady grunting at every step I took feeling every rubber-band muscle in my body. My head felt like it was stuffed full of needles and cotton balls. To make matters worse, I slept all day on the sunniest day of the year.

I called in sick today so I may rest my weary bones and hopefully be better tomorrow. Unfortunately for me, my house is still grand central station and filled with babies crying, dogs barking, people talking loud to be heard over all the racket and for some reason, I'm also being used as a temporary baby holder. I'm thinking I would have gotten more peace and quiet at work.

Oh well. Tomorrow will hopefully be better... right?

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..."-Dead man drivin'.

If someone told me 20 years ago that I would get old, I would have laughed in their face and said "Shut up stoopit!".

Sooooo as you may or may not know I work for an Orthopaedic Surgeon’s office. I’ve complained mightily about all the crap I have to put up with for average pay (and we can all agree I am an above average woman) (with an above average fixation for shoes and flowers/plants/garden stuff) and no glory.

However, one of the fringe benefits for working in an Ortho office, and being liked by the doctors and their nurses, is the fact that I can say things like “It hurts when I do this….” and I immediately have 5 different opinions and diagnoseseses (diagnosi?) free of charge. You need an X-Ray? Come on down and say cheeeeetos!

Anyway, I couldn’t stand the pain in my hands anymore. They’re not bad everyday, like right now I’m all typey typey clickety clickety and I’m fine, but when they are bad, it feels like I’m the new wolverine experiment and they are inserting adamantium into my body (no, I am not turning into a comic book geek, I just happen to know a lot of things that then become useful when posting about fictional characters and metals). I know that would be cool because I’d be able to lance Andy’s pimples without getting too close for the splatter but it’s still major ouchy! I called the front desk from my office (literally 10 steps away, I counted) and asked for an appointment for day of the lord Thursday. I would be Mr. Roger’s first patient. The other fringe benefit is being able to go in to see the doctor while on company time and still getting paid. Woohoo! Look at me making minor bucks while reading a magazine in the exam room. Don’t you wish you had my job?

Weirdly, my main concern for this exam was my armpits. I know you just shuddered but get back over here so I can tell you why. You see, my skin is as delicate as the wings of a butterfly so I cannot do the pit shaving as often as one would like.

Stay right where you are! There’s more.

This leaves me with some undesired uh growth but lucky for me, I haven’t yet embraced the monkey within so I don’t have jungle pits. Still, I did ask his nurse if I was going to need to disrobe for the occasion because I would then need to take a razor and… well, you know. I wanted to avoid this at all costs because I break out in a rash for a few days after I shave and I have to walk around with my arms out like I’m about to take flight until the burning feeling goes away. I was instructed to shave anyway. Sweet nibblets!

I don’t know about you, but I think it’s kind of weird to go see a doctor for your hands and then have to take off your top. Maybe that’s their fringe benefit?

Last year he diagnosed me with rusty old shoulder syndrome and this year it looks like it might be carpal tunnel syndrome. But don’t fret because if I do need the great and powerful OZ to perform surgery on me it will be, say it with me, FREE OF CHARGE!

Again. Woohoo.

After my exam update.

I do have carpal tunnel but it seems to be mild as in it will only make me feel like I was kicked in the balls every once in a while as opposed to every day.

Mr. Rogers gave me some suggestions on how to help with the pain one of them being to walk away from my keyboard every 45 minutes with the horrible one being, wear wrist guards when I sleep. Say whhot?? On the positive side, I'll probably sleep more comfortably if I accidentally bop Andy over the head when he’s invading my territory.

Here are my happy hand x-rays.

Sorry my bones look a little chunky but that’s only because I’m retaining water at the moment.

Never let it be said that I am trying to fool you into thinking I’m super hot. I mean, I did a post about my body shape, the one weird black hair that grows above my lip, the adult acne and now the unshaven condition of my arm pits. It’s a wonder Andy hasn’t left me, really.

Also, I didn’t have to remove my top so the shaving of the pits was unnecessary! The hell!

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In other less depressing news, I just finished reading Chris Wood’s book Sherlock Holmes and the Underpants of Death and it had me in stitches! The man is a hilarious writer who has a flair for bizarre scenarios. I’d call him a genius but then he already knows that.

If you want to give yourself a good laugh or anybody else you might like to share the joy of laughter with, go here:

Sherlock Holmes and the Underpants Of Death

You will not be disappointed. Unless you hate laughing and if that's the case you and I can't be friends.

Brian reviews Mariah Carey's "Whenever You Call" but mostly he talks about her boobs.

My brother Dan is a tough guy. He is a straight talker (that means he will give an honest opinion) and is very clear with what he likes and dislikes. He loves sports, women in bikinis and food. Probably in that order. Because he is such a man's man, it always cracks me up to hear him singing Mariah Carey tunes while listening to her on his iPod. That boy is such a contradiction!

He has had a major love for Mariah ever since I can remember so it'll be interesting to me to see his reaction when he reads Brian's review of Mariah Carey (I'm predicting he'll threaten to kick him in the nuts):

I had, of course, heard of this week's featured artist, Mariah Carey, though I'm pretty sure I'd never listened to her music. I knew about her silicon-enhanced charms, about the inadvisability of being on the same flight as her, and I would recognise her in a line-up. Sometimes I've seen pictures of her and thought she looked good, and other times thought "yuck". You hear about people having "good sides", and Mariah doesn't look so great when seen from certain angles (the front, for instance).

None of that was good preparation for this review, since it's all completely irrelevant when it comes to considering her songs. I was given "Whenever You Call" to listen to.

This is soul music, something I'm not very familiar with. It consists of fairly simple melodies that are embellished with extra notes around the main ones, a bit like Baroque, and a lot of emphasis is put on feeling, which really does come through in the singing. When you watch someone perform it, though, they have really pained expressions on their faces, like they're shitting broken glass, right before they go "mmmmmmm mmmmmm mmmmm yeah!".

The first time I listened to "Whenever You Call", I was pretty much ready to stop there and write about how much I hated Mariah Carey, but after spending some more time on it, I'm not feeling quite so negative. Her voice in the quiet passages sounds thin and really breathy. Sometimes she overdoes it a bit so that you could almost believe that she's unable to sing a steady note, though that's clearly not the case. And the "mmmmm wowowo" stuff can get a little OTT. I really did think at one point that she might have been having a crap or giving birth or something. On the other hand she manages to get a lot of colour and feeling in there that sounds convincing - a lot more so than singers in other pop genres who just sound false.

At work I have some ear defenders that I have to wear in certain areas, and I wish I'd brought them home for Mariah's loud sections. She belts out the notes, hitting the resonant frequency of my poor eardrums and prompting me to move all glass items away from the speakers, but I suppose that the emotion of the song requires that.

"Whenever You Call" was also released as a duet with Brian McKnight. I preferred it because you get a break from her voice. Not that I particularly liked Brian McKnight's singing.

I haven't really talked about the music itself. I don't think that you're really supposed to notice it, and I certainly didn't. The focus is really all on the vocals, and in that respect the song works.

I don't think that I could ever get to like Mariah Carey's music, or soul in general, but I'm glad now that I know more about her than what her breasts are made of, and to find out that she sounds a bit better than she looks. Not good enough to tempt me to become one of the millions who buy her records, though.
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Me? I'm a fan of her older stuff. The new songs not so much.

Yet another day at the crappy Laundromat.

I am seriously thinking about just washing my clothes in a giant tub and stomping around like Lucy did when trying to make wine... only drunker.

I figure it'll make my clothes cleaner and also give me the much needed exercise my butt needs. I'm just hoping I won't land face down in the tub and then accidentally drown myself in the process.

As a matter of fact, I'm going to market that as the new weight loss fad and I will only charge you, because we're buddies, $29.99 (tub, water, soap, booze and clothes not included). No need to thank me for the special offer, it is my pleasure.

We tried yet another Laundromat from hell and this one provided us with some unwanted entertainment. There was a couple there with 3 kids who came to do laundry as a family. Right now you're thinking "Family bonding over suds and fabric softener? How cute!" You'd be wrong though. It seems the guy might have been checking out some chicks and the wife went ballistic (as she should) at his eye-wandering sorry ass.

Now, if they didn't have those little tykes as witnesses to their horrible behavior, I would have grabbed some popcorn and enjoyed the show. Instead their kids just kind of stood by silently while their father called their mother a bitch and their mother mocked their father by implying he wasn't much of a man.

Here are some random little snippets from these paragons of parenthood:

Dad:
I don't give a fuck whose listening! (maybe I should have stopped walking back and forth looking for change?)

Dad:
What about the kids? They're kids! They won't remember this later! (au contraire mon ignorant douche, I remember each and every argument my parents had)

Mom:
Oh please! Like you would know what to do with one of those women if you had them! (he has 3 kids, I think he'd know)

Mom:
Don't push me! I'll call the cops!

Dad:
Do you think I care if I'm locked up? I don't give a fuck!

Dad:
Where is the goddamn attendant?

Mom:

I don't know! It's not like I own the place!

Dad:
Yes this is your place! You're the one who wanted to live in the fuckin suburbs!

Wait a second! Do not go offending my little suburb! That was over the line buddy!

Now we are at the nucleus of the problem. He was taking out his frustration on his wife because he feels he would get better treatment in a Laundromat located in Chicago. I hate to break it to you sweety but THEY ALL SUCK. Be it here, France or the moon, they're all dingy, dirty and smelly. I remember hearing about one in New York that had a bar in it. That one sucks too but you're too drunk to figure it out until you wake up with a hangover the next day and wonder why there are rats mixed in with your whites.

We can't get a new washer until the laundry room is rebuilt which is closer to being finished than not but oh dear lord is it dragging.

So anyway, if you're looking for me, I'll be in the backyard playing a fiddle while I'm knee deep in sudsy water and dancing a jig.

"I can't reach the clothes line, Pa'!"

P.S.

You guys were all extremely supportive of my new movie making endevour but I snorted when I read:

People in the Sun said...

I laughed. I cried. But most of all, I think you have provided a mirror to society.

That part where the two lovers meet on the driveway, then go their separate ways... I need to be alone now and reflect.

April 6, 2009 11:01 PM

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

A man, another man and a dog. + What is the penalty for stealing from a 6 year old?

Back in January, we had yet another snow storm here in Chi-town-land. It was what the kids call a doozy! Well, if you were a kid in the 50s you'd call it a doozy. Anyway, I was inside the house having a nice hot chocolate and I decided to observe my Andy as he shoveled our driveway. Our neighbor Boomhauer was out shoveling too. I noticed that they would shovel and then chit chat while Bella went back and forth.

It was very entertaining so I decided to take some pictures until I
A) got bored
B) ran out of hot chocolate
or
C) Andy found out and called to yell at me.

What wound up happening was the hidden D) I heard my "you have mail" notification and then I forgot Andy was outside because I lost myself in my virtual little world.

Then, Friday night I was clicking around my laptop applications and noticed a "Make a movie" tab so I said to myself "You've always wanted to make a movie so check-check-check it out."

What happened next will not shock you because I've told you what an amazing person I am. It seems there are no limits to my talent and I have no doubt one day I will make it to Cannes Film Festival where I will wear a black sundress with red shoes.

I now present:

A man, another man and a dog.



You may now tell me how brilliant I am.

In other news, my niece has a little friend who has the best THE BEST glasses and I was wondering what the penalty was for stealing a little girl's glasses. I'm pretty sure I can out run her.

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..."-Behind closed doors

Happy Birthday Natalia!

The following post is mature in nature. Please read it at your discretion since it may cause involuntary gasps followed by exclamations of “ewww!” and/or body seizures.

Subtitle: Personal information that makes my body cringe and want to burst my eardrums.

The post immediately below was going to be my Friday post. I had it all prepared ahead of time and thought how much I rocked because I would be able to go to bed early and maybe actually sleep tonight. I wouldn't worry about typing up a post because it would already be done, you see.

Then!

Then the Thursday morning meeting happened. How can I not talk about Glynda’s bizarre request? How can I not share the conversation between Milton and I that followed? I have a responsibility to those of you out there who don’t work in offices. After reading this you'll probably get down on your knees and thank the lord you don’t have to be a part of this insane asylum.

And now, I bring you, Two Posts Friday! Woohoo! Yay! You lucky ducks you.

First up, kinky grandmas at the movies:

Andy and I went to the movies on Sunday and saw “I love you man” with yummy Paul Rudd and that dude from Forgetting Sarah Marshall. You know the guy I’m talking about, right? Tall guy with shaggy hair who bounced his penis all over the screen in that movie? Yeah, that guy.

Anyway, their movies are usually extremely raunchy and funny so we knew we were in for some good laughs. I did pray I would not have to see full frontal again. Average Joe naked is not good naked. Sorry but it needed to be said.

Imagine mine and Andy’s surprise when we got to our regular seats and saw 2 grandma-like women sitting with a boy of about 14. By grandma-like I mean permed hair held in place by 2 cans of aerosol and tinted blue for elegance, thick glasses etc.

Andy and I nudged each other and pointed at them at the same time but since they were sitting in the row in front of us, we just grinned and imagined the uncomfortable moments they would have because of the explicit dialogue.

However! We were shocked SHOCKED to hear one of the grannies respond “I liked Coke better when they used to put cocaine in it” to the kid when he said he liked Coke.

Andy and I nudged each other again and tried our hardest not to laugh out loud. Go granny! Then she put her leg on the seat in front of her. How can one concentrate when granny is talking about cocaine and being all limber??

The best part was when the tall-shaggy-haired-penis-bouncer actor guy proclaimed to have a (Mom R. look away from this sentence) jerk off station and the kid laughed uproariously and the little granny had to lean in and tell the other granny what the guy on the screen had just said.

“He has a jerk off station. No! A JERK OFF [hand motion] STATION!”

Sweeeeeeeet! That is one cool granny.

Oh yeah. The nachos were excellent, minus Jalapeños though due to the razorblade affliction I now have because I’M OLD, and the movie was very funny. What? It was funny! Don’t come here for your movie reviews! But don’t go away either. Just stay right here, okay?

In other news, after my long lost friend found me, she also directed someone else to me who was like my sister. More on her in another post because she needs to know how much she meant to me and it can't be in the middle of kinky grannies-- and bizarre bathroom behavior.

Anyway, I was determined to reconnect with other friends who were such a big part of my life at one time or another. I found one on THE FACEBOOK who gladly accepted my friend request then I looked for one other one and thought I had found her. I sent her a friend request with a message asking “Is this so and so who used to work at Brown’s Chicken? If not, please disregard and I apologize for the intrusion.” I didn’t get an answer until weeks later but then I got the following:

Subject: wondering who you are?
Is this Bianca?

And I responded in my typical egotistical manner “The one and only!” immediately after I got the email. That was 5 days ago and I still haven’t gotten accepted as her friend or any other response. Did you hear that? That’s my ego shrinking an inch! Realistically, an inch is nothing to worry about when my ego is so big I nickname it "Australia" but what will happen next time I see an old friend walking down the street and I yell out “Hey! It’s me Bee from the nuthouse!” will they run away?

Now I’m wondering if I was that bad of a friend. Andy says I have issues maintaining friendships because it involves me calling people and then meeting them somewhere to socialize, you know, because I'd rather have virtual relationships? But I’m trying to change people! I feel like a born again friendship giver/taker who everybody thinks will fall back to her old ways of screening calls and being too lazy to write. ::sigh:: You know who loves me unconditionally? My cellphone.
And so ended the original post. But now...

The mysterious shedding at Arkham Asylum:

Morning meeting started the same as usual. Chatter about whose kid is too old to be living at home but can’t seem to get their shit together to move out, how cute our dogs are, etc. When Glynda asked if there was any other business and everybody responded no, she went on to say:

Glynda:
I have a request for everybody here and I’m a little embarrassed to bring it up but as the office manager, I have to.
I've gone in to use the bathroom here in the office and noticed pubic hair on the toilet seat on several occasions.

[GASP!]

Since that bathroom is also used by the doctors and I don’t want them to bring it up to me one day because I would die, please do a bathroom check before exiting to make sure you've cleaned up after yourselves.

Office Staff:
[silence]

Glynda:
I know how embarrassed you are right now but imagine how I feel.

Office Staff:
[still silent]

Bee:
I once walked into the public bathroom outside of the office, because I don't use the one in here, and overheard two women talking about how, once menopause hits, they start shedding.

Glynda & Office Staff:
[silently look at me in horror]

Bee:
What? It’s not true?

Glynda & Office Staff:
[Looking down, up anywhere but at me.]

Glynda:
Well, anyway. Please double check the bathroom.

Bee:
What’d I say?

Glynda & Office Staff:
[silently walk away]

Oh sure but my confidential poopy problems were okay to talk about in mixed company!

Yeah, how embarrassing, right? Lucky for me, I really don’t use that bathroom because the doctors are pigs.

Back in our office, Milton and I were giggling like teenagers when she drops this bomb on me.

Milton:
Speaking of odd bathroom behavior. [OH LORD!] I wonder why my urine is darker in my bathroom than it is in the bathroom here. At first I thought it was the lighting but my bathroom has more light than the one here.

Bee:
Ummmm Milton? I’m assuming that your toilet is smaller and isn’t one of those commercial ones we have here and therefore has less water to dilute it?

Milton:
Oh! I hadn’t thought of that!

Bee:
Also, can you never again make me a part of your weird bodily function wonderings? I’d really appreciate that.

eek!

Weekend, you didn't get here soon enough!

Brian reviews Kelly Clarkson's "My life Would Suck Without You"

So... it's music review day with the brilliant Brian from Brian o Vretanos. Why am I being so nice to him you ask. Well, we seem to agree on the sucketude of Kelly Clarkson's new song. Although I do enjoy some of her other music, this song makes me want to go look her up and ask her why she agreed to sing this song and then smack her upside the head (do people still say that? I guess they do.)

She is destroying everything Gloria Gaynor did for womankind when she told her loser guy to "walk out the door, don't turn around now cuz you're not welcome anymore". Instead Kelly Clarkson says it's okay to take back a guy who tells her he wanted anyone but her and then "Being with you Is so dysfunctional I really shouldn't miss you But I can’t let you go"

Screw you Kelly Clarkson. Screw. You. The new batch of women do not need to hear doormat songs.

I wouldn't care so much but I listen to the radio about 14 hours a day (I lay awake tossing and turning listening to the radio) and probably more now that we have the radio on instead of the TV when we're having dinner. I got tired of watching big breasted latina women talking about celebrities I've never heard of. I know it really disturbed Andy too so out of respect, no more TV. They play this song every hour on the hour.

Anyway, here's Brian's review:

This week we turn our attention to Kelly Clarkson and her delightfully named song "My Life Would Suck Without You". I think this is supposed to be romantic or something. Kelly was apparently the winner of one of those endless "talent" shows that are best watched with the sound turned off. Unless you're deaf. Personally I prefer to have the television turned off when these things are on, though some people seem to feel they have an addictive quality and watch them with the same morbid fascination that makes crowds hang around fatal traffic accidents.

I can never understand why people think that the life of a famous pop star is likely to be good. Months on the road doing one gig after another (if you're lucky enough to be in work), having to do what your record company and publicist and manager tell you, paparazzi just waiting for you to pick your nose, lots of money, groupies throwing themselves at you. Well, all right, maybe it's not all bad, but I still prefer anonymity. Not that I couldn't have become rich and famous if I'd wanted to, of course...

Anyway, Kelly was one of the lucky individuals who are picked either because they can actually sing, or they're neurotic, or have some other newsworthy quality that will generate headlines in the tabloids. Kelly seems to be able to sing, although the songs they give her don't really do her any favours. I'm really not sure what this particular genre is called but it goes something like this:

You start off with a fairly subdued repetitive bit, possibly meandering around tonally, but generally fairly formless, and with no real sense that it's going anywhere. Sometimes Kelly adds some "feeling" in the form of heavy breathing. Then just before all this drives you totally bonkers we come to the loud section. This seems to often be in a surprising key, though that may just be my impression because (a) the quiet part is so formless, and (b) the loud part is brash with a lot of emphasis on drums and you can't make out the chords that well. This could (as always) be because I'm listening to crappy youtube videos. The vocals in the loud section are, well, loud. They then go back to the start and do this a few times, possibly with the quiet bit being just instrumental one time round.

The lyrics are poetic, rather than natural. This is not a criticism. I'm sure it's my loss, but poetry leaves me totally cold. As did the music.

"My Life Would Suck Without You" is reasonably tuneful, and if it hasn't already been used for an advert, I think it ought to be - perhaps for Coca Cola or tampons or something. It isn't a bad example of this genre, and I preferred it to several of her other songs. By which I'm afraid I mean I didn't dislike it as much.

Sorry Kelly, but my life won't suck without your music...

 

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Well said Brian, welllllll said.

Stay tuned tomorrow for my post on Kinky Grandmas and friends who don't acknowledge my existence. ::cries::