I don't want to brag but today is my blogaversary. Okay, I do want to brag so what did you get me?

You know, for 2 years now, I have sat/stood/leaned/floated in front of some monitor or another typing up posts about occurrences in my home life and my experiences with the batty ladies of perpetual flatulence.

I’ve gone from 10 feed subscribers (3 of them being my work computer, home computer and Andy’s computer) to about 300 now (I say ““about”” because it sometimes goes to 303 and then sometimes to 325-55 but never under 300 I don’t know why that happens I just chalk it up to feedburner having the same weight issues I do)(uh not to imply I’m 300 pounds m’mkay?). I know there are others who have a lot more but I’m always thankful for those I have. After all, if they are not related to me, they are under no obligations to read about my many musical (musical because I know you picture my life to be a mix between Grease, The Sound of Music and Little Shop of Horrors and also because I burst into song to keep myself from gritting my teeth until they’re a fine dust) adventures.

I think I have come a long way from my first post where I bemoaned the fact that my shows ended for the season, LAME, and the many survey-like posts that have me answering questions to determine which comic book person I am, THE HULK in case you were wondering.

During those 2 years, I have struggled with certain issues I should or should not post about. Fights with Andy, disagreements with my family, Tazz being addicted to cleaning products, politics, religion, etc. Sometimes I think it would have been better to have kept the blog from my family so that I may speak freely and not censor myself on certain subjects but in the end it’s for the best that they know of my bloglife… right?

I have *met* awesome people. People who are hilarious, supportive and, for some reason, love mocking me. I have also come across people who take me too seriously and leave me ignorant comments because they believe they have the monopoly on self righteousness. Well you don’t assholes. Anyone who has an ass can talk out of it.

Recently, someone left an anonymous comment saying that the people I post about are not real and that I make everything up. Well, thank you. I consider that to be an immense compliment because if I have invented this world I live in, I must have a superior imagination than that of Stephen King himself.

I mean, to be able to come up with half this material on my own makes me a storytelling mastermind and all people should place offerings of nachos, mojitos, shoes and unicorn skin at my feet.

Bastards.

Blogging is a great hobby but it is a hard hobby. I have come across blogs that started strong but then the people grew tired, bored or even became too busy to continue (the may have a life where as I have you guys). Others take it way too seriously. Me, I keep it simple by just rambling on about me, my faaaaavorite subject, and if it’s not about me, it’s about people who affect my life. If someone does something to disturb my delicate ecosystem, you will hear about it.

This place is not about changing lives, educating anybody or talking about anything serious in nature. Well, I’m sure some of THE SERIOUS will occasionally leak in but it will be purely accidental. I have fun relaying the work and home shenanigans because I know that most of you have lived through office politics and have had insane spousal debates. That’s why people read blogs. They relate to this story or that one and if I had children, you’d probably relate to me leaving them at the store because I forgot a human had made its way out of my body. No? Okay then it’s a good thing I don’t have kids.

So anyway, here’s to Bee’s Musings completion of year number 2. May the material be fertile for another year? (<— the question mark is Word’s suggestion which I find mildly insulting) (and also, may the fertility stay on the blog and not stray anywhere more inconvenient and painful.)

SALUD!

Also celebrating today, because kids tend to always steal my thunder!!!, is the beautiful Isabella. She is now a year old and she’s come a long way from looking all blurry like she did in this picture.

She has started taking some steps on her own and her hand/eye coordination is outstanding as evidence by her always smacking me on my face with the force of a ball-peen hammer. Which makes me have doubts about my hand/eye coordination.

She is also a mini Tarzan who likes swinging off the bed and fearlessly standing on shopping cart seats. She is the complete opposite of the little lady Natalia has always been. Her ferocious little attitude makes me fear for her mother’s sanity. But then I get over it and take a nap because I can.

Feliz Cumpleaños chiquitita! ♥☺☼

The mysterious case of Michael Bublé (or as I like to call him Mr. Facial Expression Exaggerator Sinatra Wannabe)

So, like all good citizens of the world, I have an iPod. It was given to me by the generous and talented man I live with on one of my many birthdays. It is the iPod Nano with only about 1 or 2 gigglebiggles so it only holds about one thousand songs.

Unfortunately, fortunately for all musicians who take my money, my love of all kinds of music makes the selection of only 1,000 songs near impossible. I have to Sophie’s Choice my playlist “On a scale of 1-10, how much do I really like ‘Pump up the jam’?” (The answer: a hell of a lot more than is healthy!)

So imagine my surprise when I came across a whole Michael Bubblebutt album! Not one or maybe 2 songs that may have forcefully snuck in by knocking out my anti-overly-smooth-crooners safeguard. A whole album consisting of 13 songs! Thirteen Jerry!

 

So I went to the only other person who lives in my house and has access to my computer.

Bee:
Andy, did you upload Michael Bubblenut into my iPod.

Andy:
Michael who?

-Lengthy explanation followed-

Andy:
Come on! You have to remember buying that CD?

Bee:
uhhhh no. I would never buy that phony-baloney's CD! How dare you imply—

Andy:
I bet if you look around the house you will find that CD.

So I looked around the house and found the CD. That doesn’t really prove anything because I have many enemies willing to plant crazy shit in my house just so they could accuse me of having no taste in music. (and then while they’re here, they hide my left shoes)

I mean why? Why would I buy that CD? I’m pretty sure nobody gave it to me because I would have given it back inside a bag of dog poop.

I guess this is one of those Life’s Mysteries I’m always hearing about.

In other news.

I was at the office and decided to get some more coffee. As I was making my way to the kitchen, I noticed an elderly woman in a wheelchair sitting in an exam room waiting to be seen. She kept staring at me and her eyes were growing wider and wider the closer I got. When I was near her, she grabbed on to her companion (son maybe?) and screeched (yup, loud enough for all nearby eyes to be on me) “She’s a gypsy! She’s a gypsy! Never trust a gypsy!”

That’s nice. Old people (and babies) instinctively fear me. I think I'm going to put that on my resume.

So hello there! Did you miss me? I had a great time on my mini break, thanks for asking!

I know you’re probably dying to know what crazy high jinks we’ve got into but we had a pretty tame weekend so no juicy news for you!

Okay, I'll tell you about it anyway...

On Friday I continued with my landscaping and grub killing extravaganza. I am now the meanest, shortest, smelliest grub killer in the Midwest. Also, my sister took this picture of a bird taking a crap in my frog planter. To the bird I ask, "what the hell bird? the whole world is your toilet but you chose my freakin frog? asshat!"

Damn thing even turned away pretending to be embarrassed.

That reminds me of an old joke my uncle Curly used to tell me. He said that when he was out in rural farms delivering The Coca Cola and he needed to go, um, poopsie, he would go in a field, drop his pants and close his eyes. When I would ask why he closed his eyes he'd say "So anybody driving by wouldn't see me going poopsie" and when I would question that logic he would reply "if I can't see them, they can't see me!" Yeah, pretty much my whole family is weird.

On Saturday, at the BCD (butt crack of dawn), we went to the laundromat and I threw the mother of all tantrums because the machines were all being assholes! We then moved my momma and she is now officially on a separate floor which means all toys that belong to people under the age of 30 have been relocated and now my house doesn’t look like the McDonald’s play area.

On Sunday we took our one day vacation (because there is no budget this year for going anywhere exciting… sorry Wisconsin) and went to my in-laws’ campground where we all fell asleep in front of the TV and probably snored in unison.

On Monday I cleaned my house and rid it of all the construction dust that had accumulated because my logic was “what’s the point in cleaning today if it’ll look the same tomorrow” (you may recognize that logic if you have teens/preteens/husbands) from top to bottom then went to see Angels and Demons so that I may rest my old decrepit bones.

And now you’re jealous because my life is much more exciting than yours. What can I say? Not everybody can be this cool.

I enjoyed every last drop of this Holiday weekend and today was crashing about the office because I’d forgotten how to walk around walls. My only consolation is that we are already on Tuesday and it’ll be the weekend in no time. Hopefully.

I just heard it will rain until tomorrow night. I'm glad because we've obviously NOT had enough rain.

P.S.

To Brian and jean knee who thought something catastrophic had happened to me like pig flu or death, thanks guys! You always know how to brighten my day! Jerks.

P.P.S.

Does anybody watch Jon and Kate + 8? (For those of you who have lives and have no idea who they are, they are a young couple who over fertilized themselves and had 8 kids. They have been on TV for about 4 years or so.) I can’t explain why but I’ve become obsessed with the Jon and Kate Gosselin drama. Will they stay together? Will they get a divorce? They went from looking like they loved each other to hating each other in the blink of an eye. I really hope they pull it together because I’m running out of shows to watch.

Really quick cuz I’m on borrowed time here.

Thanks to Musingwoman from Blogtations for giving me the cure to my Internet Explorer woes. She said it was the *follower* widget that was acting up and not letting people with Internet Explorer open up blogs that are on Blogger. I have, with much trepidation for fear of losing my soul, removed the widget. Eeep!

She suggested you dump IE and use Firefox. I will not agree or disagree with that statement because I was one of those who did not, under any circumstances, want to be caught dead touching the Fox but here I am, healthier (except for the mild case of cough/sneeze/sore throat running nose/headache etc), taller, stronger using Firefox. However, do not take that as a lecture as to why you should change. If IE works for you then good for you!

Oh-oh! I hear them coming! Gotta go!

... Just as soon as I finish my coffee.

Being a Mexican American PPVO (Post Pig Virus Outbreak).

I tell ya’ guys, I’m afraid to get sick. Not because I think my lungs will fill up with mucus and I’ll die face down in my sleep. No, that doesn't keep me up at night but if I walk in with a hoarse voice (HOARSE not WHORE'S) the ladies are on my case about going to the doctor to get myself checked.

I have to tell them that they are the only people I’ve come in contact with and it’s not like there’s a gene we, the Aztec people, carry in our DNA! It’s a fucking flu.

I don’t know if they seriously think that if I get a run of the mill cold, it will mutate into the dreaded porky germs or what but they are working the reserve of nerves I keep for emergency situations. Like, for example, the time Andy came home late for lunch when he knew we were hosting his parents and we’d only been living together a couple of months and instead he went for lunch and drinks with his buddy (we will call him Peter) Peter after their field trip to some museum of electricity during his apprentice years, and then lied to me about where he had been and I didn’t find out until our first year anniversary when he accidentally goofed by knowing his way around a restaurant we’ve supposedly never been to (damn you cheesecake factory!) and I was so mad I nearly speared him with the little sword from my Piña Colada. I know you think it wouldn’t have been too painful for him because those things are tiny and plastic but believe me, the surgeons would have needed sedatives for themselves to assist in the removal of said sword from his left testicle. --- Okay, I guess I’m still mad about it. But now you know why I need that extra reserve of nerves. My Andy uses them up like they were Kleenexes.

Speaking of stuff to wipe yourselves with. We went to Costco, post blueberry muffin catastrophe SO WE DID NOT BUY MORE MUFFINS, and you know how they have stations of samples they give out? I am against sampling stuff because I don’t know what’s flying around Costco. Maybe somebody’s kid has the dreaded Feline Flu that will kill us all I don’t know but anyway there was a lady giving samples of, get this, TOILET PAPER!

Andy and I walked by, did a double take and I said “I’m gonna go over there and take a sample then tell her I’ll come back to let her know how it was.” he stopped me because he always ruins my fun. Also, she was only giving out 2 squares and it may be enough for Sheryl Crow but I need a little bit more to ensure freshness.

A couple of weeks ago, when I went with my sister, some lady bitched because my sister stopped in the middle of the aisle. The lady asked the girl she was with “why do people have to stop in the middle of the aisle??” (apparently the little girl must be some sort of mind reader?) I turned around and gave her a nasty look since my sister had stopped because other people were blocking the aisle she was trying to turn into. I guess she could have run them over but then there would be an accident report to fill out and I’m not sure auto insurance covers shopping carts.

Later, while looking for my Advil, I bumped into the lady again. To be mean, I started following her, at a safe distance where it could seem like I was shopping and it was just a coincidence, she kept looking back at me and then she started sprinting down the aisles while I calmly followed each turn she made. At the end of one of the aisles, she was blocked by a lady who was just standing there with her cart. The stalkee says “Excuse me!” and the stander says “go around me!” and then I laughed and let her get away. My sister said I was insane but she was the one to cause the lady’s wrath so she’s not an innocent party in this story.

Karma being the bitch that she is, when I went back to Costco today (I'm the KM at work this week so I went to get a veggie tray and some chocolate muffins), the dude that was ringing me up took my Costco membership card, looked at my picture then looked at me then looked at my picture then looked at me until I finally had to say "yeah, it's me" because my picture is that bad! It's a cross between a teletubby and an albino cricket. I know, frightening!

Uh, anyway, I got distracted. What I was trying to say is that my throat hurts (but this will not keep me from singing at the top of my lungs m'kay) and I’ve been sneezing (okay I just sneezed mid bite into my muffin and a small piece went through my windpipe OUCHY!) and coughing a lot. But don’t worry. No need to come over here wearing a hazmat suit. I was out all weekend without a sweater because I mistook the sun being out to mean it was also warm but it was definitely too cold to be so bold.

If the bats so much as hint at me being infected, I will give them a close up of my left foot followed rapidly by my right.

I'm taking a mini vacation to do fun things like helping my mom move back downstairs (Yay!) dusting, re-organizing my life and LAUNDRY so I won't be around this weekend. Yeah, I know it makes you sad and you're probably wondering what you'll do without me until Tuesday. Don't worry, you'll be okay. Maybe.

 

Have a safe Memorial Day and in Brian's case, a safe Bank Holiday!

Serenity now!

Today, after work, I went to pick up the refill for my blood pressure meds at my local Walgreen's. While I normally park as far as possible because that is the only exercise my butt gets, I was tired and cranky so I was happy to find a spot right near the entrance (SCORE!).

Well, it turns out some older guy (in his 50s with no visible handicaps) must have called dibs on the parking spot from all the way across the street because he pounded at my window while I was getting my purse. That startled the shit out of me! I was thinking maybe my car was on fire and I needed to exit it immediately? I opened the door, got out of my car and noticed he had stopped his car behind mine. It took a second to realize he was yelling at me. He was pissed off because I "" took "" his spot. The gas-bag said he had seen it from the other entrance of the parking lot and was heading towards it when I swiped it from under his nose.

I told him the spot didn't have his name on it and I'm sure he was used to disappointment. I walked inside and ignored his rantings. Seriously? What a fucking douchebag!

As I made my way to the pharmacy section, I had called in my refill so I didn't have to wait long, I noticed he was going to the pharmacy too. He continued his caterwauling while he was standing behind me. After I paid for my meds, I turned around and said loudly "Stop hitting on me! You're too old and I'm married!" at which point I raised my hand and pointed at my ring finger. It probably would have helped if I was wearing a ring but no matter. His stunned silence and the snickers of the people behind him was awesome!

I'm guessing he too was picking up blood pressure meds but as you can see, I remained calm, cool and collected. As I walked away, I whispered "Asshole!" loud enough for him to hear and then ran away like Daniel San after he teased the white boys*.

Yeah, bad day for me.

To make matter worse, I locked myself out of the house while I was watering flowers and I had to bang at all the windows and look like an idiot because my HUSBAND wears earphone things when he's saving the world from orcs and my mom was upstairs watching her loud novels. The only ones who heard me were the dogs and they have no idea what a door knob is. Tazz would probably pee on it and then Mocha would lick it. When Andy finally came to the door he asked "where's your cell phone?" Well Scarlett and I have are having technical difficulties so I left her behind thinking I would only be outside for a few minutes. And then he said he was going to install a doggy door for the next time I locked myself out. My man is such a comedian! I was going to suffocate him in his sleep but then I had a beer and now all is right with the world.

The summer, it almost be here.

*That is a Karate Kid reference, Brian!

Yesterday, while gardening, I realized it was hard to be the creator.

I was digging up patches of grass yesterday and as I was pulling it up piece by piece, I found out why it had begun to brown. Our side yard is infested with grubs. I would post a picture but those damn things are the ugliest looking insects I have ever seen. They are the Benicio del Toro of bugs.

As I was throwing the diseased grass into a container for future storage (to throw at my enemies when they piss me off more than usual), I thought about how the rest of the insects were going to suffer because I was removing their habitat. The poor earth worms I was accidentally chopping in half due to my shovel. There was one in particular that made me think about the injustice that is nature (survival of the fittest- or in my case, survival of those with bigger digging apparatuses).

I had just lifted a big chunk of grass when I noticed the poor little worm trying to move the other half of its body. Unfortunately, I must have smashed it when I inserted the shovel to get better leverage because the other half was just not moving.

It kept lifting itself up and it almost seemed like it was looking back at its limp tail(?) and wondering what the hell was going on. So I stood with my shovel debating if I should put it out of its misery or just leave it be. What do I know about worm injuries? Will it live on to be 200 in worm years without the use of its full body?

Then I started wondering if it too was asking why this was happening. I was basically ending the world as it knew it and making it suffer because of some stupid grubs that spoiled it for the rest of them. The grass was no more and in its stead were barren pieces of dirt because a destructive species abused the natural resources and decided to suck the life out of the lawn which was home to so many creepy crawlies.

Creepy crawlies that love climbing up women who stand around pondering too much. Creepy Crawlies that are slimy and icky... BAM! I cut the sucker in half and good riddance!

As vengeance for my version of the apocalypse, when I went to bed, every time I closed my eyes I saw an army of worms, spiders and ants coming at me. It was scary-gross but a little awesome because they did look cute in their army hats.

P.S.

We have treated some of our lawn with grub killer but I'm removing chunks so that I may expand my garden. I'm telling you this so that I don't get a comment that says "Uh why are you removing your grass one blade at a time when you can just kill the little bastards, you dumbass??" and really that's uncalled for.

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..."- A man and his muffin.

John J. Savo, the Authoring Auctioneer, thinks my titles are too long but long is in the eye of the bee-holder. Also, I talk about hairy nipples, guacamole and tequila.

Yesterday morning, while in the shower, I was listening to the morning radio show. They were talking about people who remove their wedding rings for XYZ reasons. They had a woman caller who said she was a waitress and removed hers to get more tips. Eric, the Mix's DJ, asked her if she was married and if so, if her husband minded. She said she was married but her husband didn’t mind that she flirts to get more tips since it helps her bring home extra money. Then we found out she was a topless waitress.

So I became all judgmental “what the fuck kind of career is that? I tell ya’ some people have no decency-“ and then she said she brought home $1,200 every night so then I wondered how much a boob lift would cost (the girls ain’t where they used to be).

Okay, I’m not a prude (I hate it when people say prude because it makes me think of people being constipated) but I don’t think I'd personally like to be served by a guy with no shirt no matter how hunky.

hum una hum una what was I talking about? Oh, right!

I already have nightmares about the people that handle my food from when it’s first, killed, harvested, pickled, assembled at a factory from spare parts, etc to when it’s being stored, cooked and then served. Do I need to have the mental image of some guy’s nipple hair floating at the top of my soup? That would be a big honking NO!

Granted topless women don’t have nipple hair (only they do but it’s peach fuzz)(really)(not me though) but my brain cannot wrap itself around the idea of this chick with giant knockers accidentally getting her nips in my guacamole (somewhere in Expensive Suburbland, Andy’s head exploded at the thought).

Maybe I’m just weird?

::sigh::

Andy just said she’s probably a topless waitress at a bar*, not a restaurant so her nips would be in my tequila which kills all germs. Well la dee da! I stand by my post! (and really it’s because I don’t feel like typing something else)

In other news that does not involve boobies, last night we had the granddaddy of all storms. Thankfully we did not lose power or have to build any kind of ark-like structures but the thunder and lightening shook our house on more than one occasion.

Predicting a restless night because Tazz was being his usual “the thunder is chasing meeeeeeeee because it wants to eat meeeeeeeeee” annoying self, I decided to give him a tranquilizer.

Andy, being the voice of unreason, said it might be dangerous to give him a tranq but I argued that it was more dangerous for Tazz to be wandering the streets at midnight in the middle of a thunderstorm. Andy then said ‘but he’s not wandering— oh.’ he wisely relented so I got out of bed, dipped a tranq in strawberry jelly I was out of raspberry), opened his kennel and gave him the pill. When I got back to bed Andy was already snoring away. Typical!

This is exactly what happened after Tazz had the tranq.

Thunder:
KABOOOM!

Tazz:
OU OU OU OUUUUUUUUUUU!

Kennel:
RATTLE SHAKE RATTLE RATTLE

Thunder:
KABOOOM! KABOOOM! KABOOOM! KABOOOM!

Tazz:
OU OU OU OUUUUUUUUUUU! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHOUUUUUUUU!

Kennel:
RATTLE SHAKE RATTLE RATTLE

Thunder:
KABOOOM! KABOOOM! KABOOOM! KABOOOM!

Tazz & Kennel:
… [silence]

I did get up to check on him just in case he had decided to end his stay on Earth but when I saw his lopsided grin, I was tempted to take one of those bad boy tranqs myself!

Does facilitating my dog with narcotics make me a bad pet owner? Maybe but who asked you?

*I do not know what bar so don't ask!

I'm down with OCD! Yeah you know me!

You know how I'm always talking crap about the bats (ladies I work with)? I'm always saying how they're off their rockers because they have all these idiosyncrasies that boggle my mind?

Well...

It seems they may be slowly infecting me. I feel the changes are, at the moment, imperceptible but yesterday, when I was getting ready to leave the office, I did what I have done since I discovered Milton has been going through my desk. I clipped together the paperwork I've been working on and strategically placed a bunch of items on top and then took a picture.

I do it everyday and then in the morning, after I verify nothing was touched or ask "WHO THE HELL MOVED MY CHEESE??" if something was, I delete the picture and start working.

I've been doing that for almost a year. Everyday.

I fear there is no turning back.

My house has windows. My car has windows. My office has windows. My bologna has a first name...

My friend Brian, I’m sure you guys have seen him around, did a post the other day talking about how much he hates Windows and how Linux is way better because it brings you ice cream and what not. 

One of his comments was that, using Linux, if you wanted to delete your files you only had to command it once. He said Microsoft is suggesting we’re dummies because it does such things as ask you once, twice and sometimes three times (the lady) if you’re absolutely positively SURE you want to go ahead and delete ALL the pictures in your gallery even the ones that you do not have copies of?

I thought about this as I was working on Monday because the system I use at work does ask you repeatedly “if you’re sure” of your next move. That’s when I realized Microsoft knows what it’s doing.

I’ll stand back while the BOOs die down.

Look, I’m a reasonably intelligent person. I can’t compete with a lot of the brainiacs out there (BRIAN) because I’m self taught. I didn’t touch a computer (outside of limited access in school) until I was about 26/27.

At my first office job, the guy who trained me was a stickler for protocol. This is how they taught him and these were the only things I was allowed to do on this computer.Once he left and moved to OCDland, my somewhat logical mind questioned certain commands I clicked on a menu here and there to see where they would take me and once I found out I couldn’t blow up the computer or the toaster, I became a little more daring. On my own, I found short cuts in systems I’ve worked in and also learned how to reset things, remove things and generally make my work life easier.

However!

I am thankful that I have always had the option of saying ‘no’ to such things as “You just asked me to erase the back up, would you like to proceed?” because my very first office job might have been my last.

I love operating with a safety net.  I’m too impulsive and sometimes, always really, I don’t read the next set of instructions because I’m arrogant and think I know everything but when the pop up window then asks “Are you sure you want to broadcast your SS# to the interworldwideweb, you dumbass? Because that’s what you just asked me to do!” I can then breathe a sigh of relief that somebody, anybody is out there saving me from myself.

While I may not be the reason they add warnings like “do not put plastic bag over your head and dance around until the oxygen leaves your brain” I do sometimes need someone to second guess me. Well, not in real life because everybody knows how I feel about opinions. I just mean in computerland.

I have also been thankful for those extra few steps when training new employees. Can you imagine what would have happened with my assistant from hell if we didn’t have those safety locks? Here, let me type out a little play for you.

Asst.:
Bee said I should add this insurance to this account. Let’s see ‘do I want to add or delete account’ ummmmm delete I guess? Okay now that the account is gone, where do I add the insurance?  Maybe I have to add it here where it says “do not edit” okay, I’m in the screen editing away. Goodbye Coke formula, goodbye. Wow this is really easy.

It doesn’t always work though as we may remember from the July incident where this dumbass I called my assistant proceeded to erase a whole day’s worth of work even though I am 100% sure excel did ask her if she wanted to save changes before closing the document and SHE SAID NO.

I believe people’s brains are built differently. I can understand people liking Beyonce even thought I think she is an overrated schreechball to each their own. I just don’t think there’s a right or wrong to what one considers more user friendly. Can't we all just get along?

Linux works for Brian because his intelligence is above average and he seems to be an extremely detailed human being. Windows works for me because I generally don’t know what I’m doing and I’m just winging it. Plus, I wouldn’t know what to do if I accidentally erased my pictures when I pounded on my keyboard one too many times. Windows works for Andy because he can’t operate his iPhone. Windows works for my mother in law because she can call me and I can walk her through certain things she has questions about. Linux works for Brian because he is a poopy head.

So there, Brian!

I boldly went where I've never gone before...

So, we went to see Star Trek on Sunday. Even though I’ve never ever seen a single episode of the original series or the previous movies (never! not even by accident where, say, I was strapped to a bed and the only channel with reception was running a Star Trek marathon and my eyes were held open by toothpicks and superglue, ever) I liked it!

Chris Pine is hawt even with his bushy brows or maybe I have a thing for bushy brows since my Andy has them too. I just thought about the bushy brow thing and I don’t want you to misunderstand me. There are certain wild bushy brows that I find acceptable and then there are those that are manicured bushy which ewww!

Anyway, Pine’s character is a funny smartass that, thank heavens, does not remind me of William Shatner’s acting. I guess some people thought William Shatner was a stud in his hey day but I’ve never seen the attraction.

Speaking of Andy's bushy brows, you would have thought being late for this movie would spell disaster for Earth and its inhabitants because he went on a rant where he almost forbade me to use the bathroom before we left. I had to put my foot down (on his face) and tell him that I was not going to hold it for hours just because he didn’t want to miss a single second of outer space. I think his fear was that there would be gobs of people standing in line. At 10:45 AM. On a Sunday. I had to reassure him that few people have less of a life than we do but then I remembered we were talking about Trekkies so I stand corrected. Kidding! Maybe.

I’m sure there were many inside jokes I missed but I didn’t feel like you needed to be wearing pointy ears to be able to follow the movie. Oh yeah and I especially liked the retro outfits the chicks um women wore.

We went to the movies after taking my mom to breakfast to celebrate the fact that I was the first one to make her a mother. She and I joke about it every year because I always expect her to give me a present and she always says “I gave you life” and I always respond that that trick is played out and now I want a pony/koala bear/Brad Pitt.

I further celebrated mami’s day by cooking dinner. For some reason she loves my veggie lasagna and as an added bonus, Maria, THE VEGETARIAN, was also able to dine on my fine cuisine on her first mother’s day ever because I didn’t use as much ground seal as the recipe calls for.

I also prepared a nice salad and some homemade garlic bread.

Nothing but the best for my momma!

I know I know, I’m a horrible daughter considering she is always cooking our favorite dishes and she does it from scratch.

I think she was a little disappointed that I didn’t invite the clan over to celebrate but frankly the husband and I have a budget we live on and our life got a little more complicated once my brother Rick, Maria and the baby moved in. Andy and I joke about the fact that we don’t have children and yet our food bill suggests otherwise. So, due to the new responsibilities and in order to avoid going to the poor house, our home is now officially closed for any future hosting events until further notice (Thanksgiving being the exception).

I’m hoping to make it up to her on her birthday by organizing dinner at a nice restaurant I hope it’s understood that everybody will pay for their own food because I don’t think Andy will be too thrilled with staying behind to help the busboys clean up. ;o)

P.S.

Mini rant regarding Costco. Andy and I bought some lemon blueberry and blueberry muffins. And we, AS A COUPLE, have this to ask:

WHAT THE FUCK??

Did we misunderstand the label? Did you mean "with a hint of blueberry"? Because we could not find a blueberry to save our lives! Well, Andy found one but then it fell and he cried out "No! Where the fuck are my blueberries??" Maybe we should have paid for them with a hint of money? Bastards.

P.P.S. to jean knee:

Don’t think I didn’t catch your question regarding my dogs and what they got me for mother’s day. I know you did it because of last year’s post. I forgive you because you are my friend but next year? I will make you wear my new shoes as punishment.

I.O.U. a few comic strips.

So no comic today either. Andy has been working over-time (yay! shoes!) so I haven't had the heart to crack the old whip (he has sensitive skin).

Even though Andy had to work, my brother Dan met my mom and I at the home improvement store and made us do uncool things like buy lumber stuff for my mom's floor and he was not taking "but I'm sleepy!" for an answer. I was NOT given a chance to look at flowers so this Home Depot trip was NOT fun. I was driving Andy's car because I had just taken Tazz to the groomers. For that I need the big car because, even though he's drugged up (that's the only way the groomers will cut his hair)(he is the DEVIL), Tazz goes completely insane when he knows he's being taken somewhere where the may stick needles in him or excrete things from his anus. Breakfast anyone? So I need to take him in his kennel and then drag his butt out.

Here he is at the vet.

The lumber stuff we needed was about 20,000 feet long and didn't fit in Andy's car. The options were to leave the back door open (the very heavy back door that opens like a regular door instead of up), tie it to the roof or option Bee, have some of it hanging out the passenger side window.

I say option "Bee" because that was my idea. Dan offered to drive the car but I was not going to dare drive his beloved Cadillac, Maxine. I nervously checked the mirrors, turned on my hazards and then took off.

I drove on the right lane thinking I'd be driving slow but then I had the feeling that the freakin wood things were going to take out windows, trees, civilians and every sign within a 5 mile radius so I switched to the left lane and zoom zoom zoomed all the way home. Sure the things flapped away and I thought that, with enough speed, I could pole vault my way out of traffic but I managed to control the urge.

In the meantime, my poor Andy worked 14 hours on Friday and 8 hours on Saturday. The thought of him working so hard tired me out so I decided to take a nap.

Word to your mother.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL YOU LUCKY MOTHERS!

Just for you, Orion. "The Moth and the Bee (with some guest appearances by crazy hyenas)."

It was an average night in Chicagoland. The heroine of the story had just taken her dogs out for the last time and was standing in her kitchen singing to Bon Jovi's “Bad medicine” (and maybe MAYBE doing some crazy dance but we cannot confirm that information) when she decided to have a bowl of Rice Krispies.

She remembered back to Monday when she had bought the box of Rice Krispies from Mernards because it was $2, a bargain in this economy to be sure. She hadn’t had this particular cereal since about 1993 because she had outgrown the need for cereal with a little milk and a lot of sugar and was more into things that rhyme with gooze (booze, in case you were wondering). Well, she’d had them in the form of Rice Krispies treats but they cease to be cereal once you’ve added melted butter and marshmallows.

She took a red ladybug bowl from her cabinet and prepared her cereal. She then debated whether she should sit at the table like a normal human being or if she should sit on the sofa like a philistine.

As she was setting up the pillows so she may sit cross-legged on the sofa, might as well be as unladylike as possible, she hoped she would be able to balance the bowlful of cereal and milk and she shooed the dogs that were waiting for the tiniest of spills in order for them to descend like hyenas.

So she sat, watched TV, ate, mocked the dogs, admired her terrarium, when all of a sudden! She noticed 2 moths doing air acrobatics near her terrarium. “OH NO!” she thought, “If Andy sees them he’ll for sure think we’re breeding them in the house just to torture him!” She valiantly stood up and chased after those pesky moths determined to end their existence! She ran around her living room, cereal bowl in hand, and tried to cup them with her free hand. She was able to grab one and she shmooshed it and flung it to the floor where the hyenas waited.

After she did her happy dance, still careful not to spill her precious Rice Krispies, she looked high and low for the other moth but she finally admitted defeat when she couldn’t find it. She took one last look in her terrarium and didn’t see the little pest so then she stood and wondered when she had last watered her cacti (snicker). She scooped a spoonful of cereal and opened her mouth wide— only to have the moth do a kamikaze suicidal revenge mission into her mouth!

As she inhaled to yell for help, all was lost.

[killer moth photo from rickastro.com] 

The surprise attack took her by, well um surprise, so she jerked around like a hillbilly with new shoes thereby spilling all contents of the bowl on herself and the awaiting hyenas.

And so ends the sad tale of a Bee, a moth, some hyenas and snap, crackle and pop.

Thanks Orion! For making me relive that horror!!!!

Tazz is a jerky pants who smells like bean burritos. Yeah, I went there!

I was going to do a post today but... to piss Tazz off (because he snatched a tortilla from my fingers and I almost wound up with the nickname of 9 Fingers Charlie) I pretended to be thunder, he hates thunder, but it backfired because when I went like this:

KKWRRRWVVVVOOOOOM!!!!!

I strained my vocal chords (hopefully that's the right *chord* DAVID!) and now my throat is ouchy.

Tazz was unimpressed. He didn't even pretend to hide. Bastard.

Anyway, since I can't talk, I can't do a post. You know, because I talk while I type?

Also, Tuesday night, while eating Rice Krispies (I know YUM!), I swallowed a moth. Insects in my house better beware!

Okay, I wasn't too upset about the moth thing until I googled images of moths and now? Now I want to take the blue pill.

And finally, Andy cut his hair(s) and no longer looks like the drunk derelict I found sitting outside of Boomhauers garage. I'm happy because I won't go to hug stinky drunken strangers and he's happy because I no longer step on his hair while I'm walking by his chair.

So anyway, that's why there's no post today.

Things I can do in 10 minutes: Peel and eat an orange, read about 20 blogs, do my nails, pretend I exercised for 10 minutes but instead walk to Baskin Robins to get ice cream (DAMN YOU BASKIN ROBINS!), build a cyborg...

Andy:

I read your post today, did you mean “disease riddled whore”?

Bee:

Who’s a disease ridden whore?

Andy:

No, RIDDLED! I think you meant to say riddled not ridden.

Bee:

I’ve always said ridden. I’ve been wrong?

Andy:

Yeah. Ridden is the past tense of ride like what you do with a horse. “The horse was ridden in a derby.”

Bee:

You lie! That sounds stupid.

Andy:

What do you suggest it be? “The horse was RODE in a derby?”

Bee:

Well they shouldn’t make the English language so damned confusing. I mean, aren’t whores ridden too? Which is how they become infested with diseases?

Edited for your protection

Andy:

See, if you were confused, you could have just said “disease infested whore”.

Bee:

I wasn’t confused. Besides, “disease infested” just doesn’t have the right ring to it.

Andy:

Haven’t you ever used the word riddled before?

Bee:

Um I don’t think so. I once heard somebody say they were riddled with guilt. Is that what you mean?

Andy:

Exactly! One is riddled with guilt, one is riddled with disease, one is riddled with lice…

Bee:

Ewww! … I always thought riddled meant like what the Riddler did to Batman. (in Riddler's voice) Riddle me this Batman- Eh! Wrong! You will now be Riddled by the Riddler!

Andy:

What the hell are you talking about?

Bee:

Whores?

Andy:

Can’t we ever have a normal conversation?

Bee:

You mean we should be talking about the economy, bills and the death of 401Ks?

Andy:

So, these disease ridden whores…

 

I then googled both terms and they are both acceptable so now Andy owes me about 10 minutes of my life back. I know it doesn’t seem like that convo was 10 minutes long but in between hand gestures, eye rolls and dancing (well, maybe not so much dancing as simulating riding a whore) it comes to about that.

P.S.

If one more asshole asks me if I know anybody with the pig virus I will slow cook them and pass them off as pulled pork!

Sometimes, I dig deep from my real life experience to help those I love stay out of prison.

So you know how some people talk about how they have nothing going on in their lives (BRIAN! even though he went to Tahiti but refuses to share the details)? I’ve gotta say I sometimes envy them. Living on a rollercoaster can be rough and then those few times you’re off the rollercoaster you feel like a sailor coming off of a boat after being on it for 60 days and trying to get back their land legs but instead you wind up light headed, dizzy, disoriented, pukey, gassy, with a disease ridden whore. Oh uh, well…

The moms and I got pulled over by the fuzz on Friday. Yeah, that’s right. We were one block away from home and she was driving her sensible four door Nissan Sentra at a reasonable speed and we must have had about 20 coppers tailing us. Yeah, that’s right. TWENTY. Okay two.

My mom had just made this comment:

“ooh. There’s 2 police cars behind me. I’m shaking!” but she was kidding because the moms is a 100% law abiding citizen who only once destroyed a maryjane plant and then chucked its remains in random neighbors' garbage cans lest the boys in blue came to our door with a search warrant. The plant was only about this high and she was nurturing it because she thought it was ivy.

Then the lights started flashing and we heard the “Doowoop” from their sirens.

While she was looking all nervous, and so was Maria, THE VEGETARIAN (who was in the back seat trying to hide the Mickey Dee’s bag she was holding whose smell almost made me vomit even thinking about it now makes me want to hurl raspberries), I was all “Ma’ relax, I’m here!” Ma’ Barker she ain’t.

So the copper comes to the window, nice looking fella by the way, and says “Evenin’” and I’m all “Evenin’” and he’s all “Why are you driving with your headlights off?”

Did I mention it was 11:30 in the PM and it was dark out? And that she had turned off the lights while we waited for Maria, THE VEGETARIAN, to come back from getting McDonald's with fake meat and the formula for food poisoning after we picked her up from the train? Which was really for my brother Rick. And then she forgot to turn the lights back on and so we blatantly cruised by 2 coppers while they chitchatted? Yeah, that’s right.

I explained the situation to the nice lookin’ fella and he went back, ran her license and must have found out how much of saint my moms is because he said. “Okay, this is a warning but turn on your lights, m’mkay?” Yes officer. Whatever you say. Let me just update my facebook status. Yeah, that's right.

And so we giggled as we drove the ONE block to get home.

Yeah, that’s right. We’re outlaws. But at least we avoided the disease ridden whore.

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..." Jealousy

Geek chic.

This weekend Andy and I will be going to the movies (half price Sunday Matinee baby!) to see the new Wolverine movie. As we all know, “The Andy”, as my family likes to call him, is big on comic books uh GRAPHIC NOVELS and as such will drag me to any movie adaptation and I go because I swore to be with him in SICKNESS and in health so I really don’t have a choice, right? Seriously is there a loophole anybody can tell me about?

Anyway, Andy was making fun of me because I'm looking forward to seeing Wolverine but more of a shocker to him was the fact that I am excitedly waiting for the new Star Trek to come out. He has been calling me a geek now for a few weeks. I of course don’t listen to him because I know I’m cool and if I decided to be a geek, guess what? Geekiness would now be cool. Don't get mad at me! I don't make the rules.

What he doesn’t know, and still won’t because he reads my blog every Monday, Wednesday and Sunday (and Sunday only because he wants to see how many comments his comic gets because he’s vain like that) so I should be safe posting this today, is that I’m looking forward to these 2 movies for 3 reasons.

Yummy reason #1

Hugh Jackman

Yummy reason #2

Ryan Reynolds

Yummy Reason #3

Chris Pine

I hope I don’t drool my nacho cheese on my chin while ogling these 3 fine specimens of hotness, you know, again.

P.S.
Is anybody else freaked out by the dude who plays Spock and Sylar? ::shiver:: I feel like he’s going to reach through the TV and take all of my cookies.
Well cast people at Heroes! Even though the storyline sucks monkey balls, at least you have a villain that gives me nightmares… while I’m awake!

(eep!)