My trash your treasure + OZ steps out of line and I smack him back!

So, the yard sale went great!

We had wonderful weather... okay, maybe it was a little chilly but it was still enjoyable. We sat in my front yard under the canopy of trees and watched as cheapo people left without buying any of my CRAP treasures.

Milton had a great time. I think she also liked the fact that she was able to bond with the family members I'm constantly talking about (my sister, her girls, my brother Rick, my mom, Maria THE VEGETERIAN and her little daughter Sofia).

She did do a bunch of Milton things like reorganizing the shoes we were selling not once, twice, three times but like 500 times. She claimed somebody must have removed a $2 sticker on one of her items and placed a 50 cent sticker instead.

She also had kittens each time someone asked me what I was selling something for and I would talk myself down. "well, I want $3 but give me $2 and it's yours!"

She stuck to her prices and refused to negotiate which is probably why she's got more Benjamins than I do. The funny thing is that she owned up to her OCD and I have to say I enjoyed her company immensely.

There was one item I regretted putting out as soon as a lady picked it up. It was a gorgeous magazine rack that was almost new but I had put it away because I was abusing its magical powers and stacking too many magazines at one time.    

When she asked me the price, I said $3 and had it in my head that if she thought it was too much, she could go eff herself. She gave me the $3 (in quarters!!!) and drove off with my irreplaceable, priceless magazine rack. I MISS YOU MAGAZINE RACK!!

The downfall of this weekend is that, thanks to Milton, I am now on a first name basis with a lot of my neighbors and their dogs. I now more about their problems than I care too! I swear to Nihm that if any of them so much as smile at me because they *know* me, I will fling poo at them! I liked not knowing anybody but Boomhauer and Wilson. My sanctuary has been trespassed and contaminated!  The dogs were cute though.

I didn't make a lot of money (nope, can't retire yet) but the important thing is that my JUNK treasures are now gathering dust in someone else's house. (MAGAZINE RACK, COME BACK TO ME!!)

Coming back to work today, I had a conference call scheduled where OZ was going to have to man up and scare this guy I had been having a verbal sparring match with for the past couple of weeks. Instead he wimped out and postponed the call for Friday because he didn't have enough "" facts "". It pissed me off but then I remembered it wasn't my company and so I had my rice pudding.

When I went to lunch, OZ stepped into the kitchen and started asking me questions about that same account.

I don't know about you but I don't get paid while I'm at lunch. I also don't like distractions when I'm trying to enjoy my ham samich so I said.

Bee: I didn't bring the chart to lunch with me because I eat lunch at lunch.

OZ: Oh, but I'm sure you have some memory of the account details.

Bee: No, not while I'm at lunch because all I'm thinking about when I'm at lunch is my lunch.

OZ: Well, can you just answer me this one question?

Bee: Suuuuuure! When I get back from lunch.

Staring contest ensues.

OZ [leans against the kitchen sink]: ...

Bee [pats her ham sandwich]: ...

OZ [crosses his arms]: ...

Bee [takes a bite of her sandwich]: ...

OZ: ... I guess I'll buzz you when you get back from lunch.

Bee: I'm staying an extra 5 minutes which is about how long this conversation took. [I wink]

OZ: Okay. Just let me know when you get back.

Bee: You betcha!

 

That's what I'm talking about!!! MOFO interrupting me and my smoked ham sandwich!

"Bee n' Andy: Married and Sometimes, Still in love..."- I should have bought a Dyson.

No, I'm not dead... yet. Also, a blogger's plea.

I know you must be wondering where I've been-- no? Whatever people!

Anyway, I have been preparing for a yard sale and OH MY GOD am I tired!! Believe it or not, I'm typing this while pricing the massive pile of crap I have accumulated over the past couple of years. Umm did I say crap? I meant TREASURE.

Also, my mommy got sick with THE shingles. But we didn't know they were shingles so we spent a few horrifying days because her pain was unbearable. I knew it was bad because my momma never ever complains but she could not handle this pain. She's still ill but at least now she is being pumped full of good stuff (read: narcotics).

I wanted to mention something before I head off into the wacky world of yard sale-ing.

We, as bloggers, sometimes encounter people who *don't get* how we can bond with people we've never met. I have come across a couple that, in their narrow mindedness, have even looked down their noses and made it seem like there was something wrong with me for actually caring about those same people I've never met. Right. Because you can only bond with others over coffee and crumpets.

For whatever reasons, when I visit somebody's blog and they are going through hardships, I feel their anger, pain, frustration. Sometimes I wish with all my heart that I could help them in some way because that is who I am in *real life*. Unfortunately, I'm always limited by distance and money. Still, I don't want to sit here twiddling my thumbs so...

Please go and visit Coolred's Rants and read her story. She is a desperate mom in a foreign country trying to reunite her children. I can relate since my own family went through something similar. I know it's a scary world out there and you never know who to trust but, and I know this will shock you coming from a cynical bitch, I need to believe not everybody is out to scam you. Read her story and decide for yourself. If you can help in anyway, I'm sure the big guy will give you brownie points but I'm sure any well wishes and prayers well be appreciated too.

Now I'm off to bed so that I may at least get 4 hours snoring time before I have to wake up and showcase my treasures.

Oh yeah! I've asked Milton if she wants to piggyback on my yard sale. You know I'll have some stories!

Peace.

Man + Woman + his and hers computers = Harmony.

As some of you may know, Andy and I have been married for over 8 years. (EIGHT LONG YEARS)

I personally think people should go through some sort of pre-marriage counseling that prepares them for the different facets you'll go through in a marriageship. In fact, I, as the all knowing been-there-done-that chick, volunteer to be your personal guide through stormy seas. And by *volunteer* I mean there will be a nominal fee of $1,000.

Expensive, you say? Well, it's a one time payment and you will get the benefit of my expertise and have me at your beck and call. That's a bargain since not even Andy can boast of such privileges. Unless he pays the $1,000 fee but that would be immoral and along the lines of prostitution which we here at Bee's Musings do not condone!

Okay! Let's get this train back on track!

My Andy and I have gone through a lot of transitional periods but the hardest ones were probably the first 3 years (I'm not counting the seventh year among the problematic ones because I blame it on temporary insanity)(HIS temporary insanity).

In the first year of our marriage, we discovered that our heads will not literally explode from yelling at each other until we sound like chain-smoking winos. This was a great realization since we seemed to be at arms everyday and twice on Sundays.

"Why don't you close the shower curtain after your shower? What? You want to bathe in mold??"

"Do not touch my lunch snacks because those are mine- for ME to take for MY lunch- MINE!" (I think we can all recognize this as being Andy)

"Gah! Can you pick up your feet so I can sweep under the couch??"

"Why do you have to clean when I'm trying to watch Football/Basketball/Baseball/Golf/Midget Wrestling??"

Specialist in mental health call this "The adjustment" period (I assume) but I call it the "Watch your ass or I'll kick it!" period. Still, we tweaked our behaviors. He by becoming addicted to the computer instead of the TV thereby staying in his dungeon and me by never cleaning. Ahhh apathy, you are the instrument which tunes my soul. Or not. Whatever.

Worked out well I'd say.

Our second year we argued less but when we did argue, it was mostly about money. He would give me my allowance at 6:00pm on Fridays and I would have it all spent by 6:05pm on Fridays.

"How is that you're broke already? I JUST gave you your money! Are you buying drugs in the alley?"

"It's none of your beeswax! It's not like I'm asking for more!"

Those same specialists may call this "The financial overlord" period and I would have to agree. It would drive Andy insane that I'd never know where my money went and I refused to give him a breakdown. As far as I was concerned, it was my allowance and I could spend it on wax jobs for women in third world countries if I wanted to!

After we bought our house in the midst of our third year of marriage, all arguments over money stopped. There was no money to argue over, you see. Our allowances went from "Woohoo! Shoes, purses, TEQUILA!!" to "Hmmm I think I have enough to buy a Butterfinger, a bottle of water and a bag of twisty fritos. Doh! I forgot about the tax!" We go to work, come home, pay our bills then go to our respective corners and relax.

There's something about being on the hook for hundreds of thousands of dollars that makes you bond and realize it's you two against the malevolent banks with their interest rates and their rolls of quarters.

We reached a plateau in our marriage. The "comfortable with each other enough for ONE of us to confide in the other that we just took the longest poop on record!" (okay, it wasn't me). One where we can be have our own likes without codependency.

You figure there is nothing else you can hide from each other. No new behavior you need to adjust to. From here on out it's smooth sailing...

Until.

Until the day comes when his computer breaks and now you're left to fill that vacant void that's labeled "relationship".

All of a sudden your pleasant routine transforms into this "WE" thing.

"What are WE going to watch?" -Uhhh I'M going to watch "17 Again". (Don't judge me!)

"The Cubs'/Bears' game is on, can WE change the channel?" -but I'M already watching Less Than Perfect!

"Are WE going to have ice cream?" -Sweet Moses!

And then he starts taking over your things, your seat, your sanity.

"I am just going on your laptop for a minute- why are there pictures of Brad Pitt and David Beckham flashing me?" -because they're gorgeous duh!

"Can you scooch over? There's a glare from your terrarium on the TV." -which is why I sit where I sit.

Then it gets worse because now you have to listen to ::shiver:: sports talk!

"Shabadaba Tarrrruiti is on the DL (disabled list)(useless trivia) again! That man must be made of glass!"

"The Cubs played the Dinosaurs and lost by 17 but they should have won! Gary Whocares lost it at the end!"

"Blah Blah Blah football."

He keeps looking over at me as I type this. WE are watching Law & Order Criminal Intent (I LOATHE JEFF GOLDBLUM!)

There sits my Andy. Drinking my Miller Lite and eating Doritos...

I don't know what's wrong with his computer. I don't know how to fix it either but, by Eve [shakes fist in the air!], I'm going to take out my tools, pour myself a drink and figure it out!

This is what happens when I cook dinner:

I turned on the oven without bothering to move a couple of metal containers I had set on top of the stove. Unfortunately, my dumbass didn't think about the plastic lids on top of those metal containers!

This to me is a sure sign as to why I shouldn't cook. Andy says I just need to try harder since I'm becoming less dangerous each time and he uses the kitchen fire as an example.

I told him I was going to start a "Stop Bee now before she burns the Earth down!" petition. Who's with me??

Have another bottle!

Andy and I just returned from a  reunion a former boss of mine hosted. Andy was going to finish up the comic strip once we got home but he fell asleep on the sofa and I don't have the heart to wake him up. He worked on the laundry room up until we left for my reunion and was a perfect husband once we got there. I think I may be a little tipsy since I feel like gushing over how awesome he is.

Maybe it's the fact that I was just reminded of a time in my life when my home life and work life were in perfect harmony.

I always boast about the amazing perks I had while working for Bob (former boss)(He also called himself an SOB 'Sweet Ole Bob'). He treated all of his employees with respect and made it apparent to anybody who would listen how he valued each and every one of us. My sister and I joined his company late in his life so he retired a couple of years after we got there. His heir decided he didn't want to continue in his footsteps so the company was sold to a bigger, heartless company who slowly started dismembering all the work he had done over the past 25 years.

Nobody knows how old he is because he has kept up with his looks via a very skilled physician, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, but don't think I'm mocking him. Not at all. He is my hero. I mean, the man would bring wine for us to drink while we were at work, let us leave at noon on Fridays, took us out for lunch for our birthdays and oh yeah, did I mention the booze?

Because all people I admire tend to have quirks, he is no different. Today, for example, he told my sister and I that he had invited his physician to meet us because she was Mexican and maybe we could brush up on our Spanish. He also asked if we wanted something to drink and I said we'd like something nonalcoholic so he said "Coca? I have some Coca. I keep it for the guys that do my lawn." which translated means his Mexican gardeners. Ha! That may sound a little racist but the man goes out of his way to make people happy.  The kicker? He asked me if I had children and when I told him no, "What? Is there a problem? [points at Andy] Do you need me to step in?" Dirty old man you say? You'd be right but ya' know what? The dude is hilarious!

I felt sad for a minute because his amazing personality is still going strong and I miss so very much the days I would wake up in the morning and head to a place I enjoyed working in. So many memorable things happened during my time there. I got married, the unfortunate events of 9-11 happened, my beautiful Natalia was born all these things affected my life in one way or another. Not to mention this was the everyday view from my office:

In the end I'm thankful I had the opportunity to work for his company. I met some of the greatest people that I still keep in touch with. I also know there are bosses out there, somewhere, who treat their employees like people and not disposable snot rags. (Thanks OZ- you fucking asshole!)(he knows why I'm mad at him)

So I raise my glass to all great bosses out there! Thanks S.O.B.!

And to all the people who work for them? Don't take them for granted because you may never again have the  pleasure of truly loving your job, liking the people you work with and having an amazing employer.

 

And now for a Zen moment.

P.S.

My green shoes looked awesome and practically stole the show!

P.P.S.

Don't tell Andy I was all *Andy crazed* okay? I'm sure I'll be back to my normal self tomorrow so he doesn't need to know.

Another point for Karma

I must have been one of those witches that lived in the mountains, who only came down to the village to have their dinner which consisted of new born babies, in a previous life. Or maybe it's because of my recent guffawing at a patient's diagnosis which read "open wound, buttocks"? How else would you explain Karma's enthusiasm in riding my ass?

My punishment happened just a few minutes ago. I was chewing my gum, rather energetically as I do when I'm on edge, when I accidentally bit down hard on the inside of my bottom lip!

You know what taste good mingled with gum? Your blood and a piece of your flesh mmmmm!

Does that make me a cannibal or a vampire?

Karma? I promise not to dine on newborns and/or make fun of people's butt problems. Are we square?







you mean bitch

Dream Sequence

Bee is sitting at her desk watching one bat after another crap on the copy machine. Their piercing screeches can be heard on the 118th floor of the 7 floor building. (What? It's a dream! It's not supposed to make sense!) The bats are angry because the machine isn't working again but Bee knows it's an operator error and not the fault of the high-tech copier. She moves slowly toward the machine making sure her flippers are ready for any attack.

The scene shifts and she is now back home. She stands in her hallway confused, is she awake or still dreaming?

Suddenly she hears a man's FEROCIOUS voice, some BEEPs and pounding. He seems to be upset "Ooga booga dooga!!" she approaches him quietly hoping not to disturb his ritual of scratching his head and jumping from foot to foot while hitting a black object- TOO LATE! He sees her! So she reasonably asks "WTF is going on here?? Why are you yelling??"

The guy responds: Me can't make copy! Me try long time! Say paper jam so me bang bang on top! Still not work!

Bee: Move over you orangutan!

She fixes the copy machine by clearing paper jam from the very secret compartment not visible unless your eyes are open.

Man makes copy and grunts.

After saving the day AGAIN, she puts on her sombrero and walks off into the sunrise! (*Sunrise* because she now has to take a shower, go to work and face another day of Xerox Machine vs Unqualified Purple People Eaters)(Yes, you do need to be qualified to eat people, just ask the Council of Cannibal Americans)(But you better ask them quickly because they are slowly disappearing- some think due to extinction but I think it's due to BBQ sauce)(Also, the people eaters are purple, not the people)(Have I lost you yet?)(You know what? Just disregard everything I said after "sunrise!")

╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞╞

Regarding the shoes from yesterday.

Sornie was wondering about women's obsession with shoes. He says he only has 4 pair and one pair is to mow the lawn. That made me giggle.

For us, shoes are another accessory we can wear with an outfit. They make statements. Sometimes they give us an extra ego boost when we know we're going to have a tough day at work. For example, say you have an overbearing boss who continually berates all his employees and thinks he is the only person on earth who knows what "reciprocity" means because we are all obviously dumber than a butt nugget. It gives one great satisfaction to see an arrogant oaf do a double take and then make a comment on your shoes.

Other times, a pair of shoes can emphasize ones legs. Mine, for example, are tree trunks in flats but put on a pair of these:

and I'm transformed into a poor man's Heidi Klum. Okay, that may be only in my head but that goes back to the ego boost.

I'm not really sure what the equivalent would be for men. Really. I've been sitting here trying to come up with something and I haven't been able to. The conclusion I'm drawing is that you're flawed. I think it goes back to the Legend of the Peacock.

Also, to David who asked why I had worn other shoes if I had said the green ones were meant for the reunion. I haven't gone to the reunion yet. That's this coming Saturday. The black shoes I mentioned in the post I wore to work. The green ones are still resting majestically in their box.

Well, I think that's all I have to say about shoes. FOR NOW!

A mile in my shoes.

So, lately I've been feeling a little depressed. It's mostly due to XYZ health issues and ABC medications. I know you wouldn't be able to tell from my chipper blog attitude because, due to your delicate sensibilities, I've been putting on a brave front for your sake.

You're welcome.

Anyway, I've been experiencing some swelling in my body due to side effects of testing this pill or that pill to see which one works best. One of the things that has me down is the fact that the size of my puffy feet make it impossible for me to wear any of my awesome shoes.

I know some of you are probably thinking in disbelief and yes, a little condescendingly, "Shoes?? You're upset because you can't wear certain shoes??"

Short answers "Yes" long answer "How about you shutty?" The shoes situation just served as my catalyst.

I don't know about all women but in my case, a great pair of shoes can do wonders for my spirit.

The past few months, I've been wearing a pair of Clark's Sandals that are nice but plain. I bought them 6 years ago because they were on a great sale but I hadn't worn them in about 3 years. Turns out they, and the sketchers sandals I bought earlier this year, are the only shoes that fit me comfortably. For some reason my right foot is considerably more swollen than the left. (anybody have Barnum and Bailey's number?) Because of this, I wake up in the morning and dig through the more casual of my clothes. There's no sense in putting on a nice outfit if I can't wear the shoes to match. Along these lines, why bother with make-up if I'm dressed so casually? Added to that the spider bites that left my legs with this ugly biohazard look to them, I've been too self-conscious to wear any of my skirts... and so I step onto the insane merry-go-round.

I know there are bigger issues in the world and mine are trivial in comparison but there is no talking logic to my depression. After all the things I've lived through, I felt like this one was crushing me in ways I never expected. I didn't have the will to fight through it either because my brain knew how ridiculous and irrational I was being. I was just letting it consume me one day at a time. Everything in my head ended with "what for?" or "what's the use?"

I finally snapped out of it on Friday.

Andy and I were doing some last minute shopping for our trip to Starved Rock. One of our errands was stopping to get him a new pair of shoes since his old shoes wouldn't be comfortable enough to do any hiking. There I was in my baggy shorts and my bleach stained T-shirt, hair all Nick Nolte-like, no make-up and looking haggard and old with my ugly feet. I felt like a tired old woman. Seriously.

The shoes Andy picked were a little narrow so I went around the shoe department looking for a salesperson to ask for a bigger size. That's when I stumbled upon the most beautiful shoe I've seen in a long time. I stood in front of it and, I kid you not, looked at it reverently- too afraid to pick it up for fear of getting my hopes up that it would be

a) in my size
b) affordable

and the most important

c) in my size and me be able to squeeze my elephant foot into it

I timidly picked it up and found it was half a size too big but this hasn't stopped me before. I set it on the floor and slipped my foot out of my sandal. I slowly pushed my foot into the shoe and wiggled it this way and that until it went in and it fit perfectly!

It may sound like I'm exaggerating but I felt my body drain itself of all the tension I'd been feeling the past few months. I asked the somber sales dude for the other shoe and gushed over their unusual color, their style, the fact that the heel looked like the paneling on my dad's old station-wagon (never in a million years would I have thought this to be a good thing in a shoe). I was so happy, the sales dude went from quiet and serious to smiling and cheerful. He told me they were $19 on clearance and with Andy's purchase we were able to save $15 instead of the $10 I thought we would save from a coupon they had running. The great price made the find even sweeter.

As the evening went on and I was cutting up fruit, marinating steak, making a check list of all things we needed to pack the next morning, I kept thinking about the shoes and when I'd be able to wear them. They were too special for their first time on my feet to be just to work. I decided on wearing them to a reunion a former boss of mine is organizing for this coming Saturday. From there my mind went to picking an outfit and with each passing minute my heart became lighter.

I started looking forward to going through my shoes and checking to see which ones I felt comfortable wearing. On Sunday I did just that and found a few that made the difference in my feet imperceptible.

I also painted my finger nails so they're back to looking sharp and lethal. This morning I woke up, ironed a nice pair of dress pants, picked out a pretty purple blouse and wore my killer black shoes. Some make-up, jewelry, and perfume later and I felt like I'd lost 10 pounds and grew 4 inches in height.

People at work were telling me how great I looked and commenting that the trip to Starved Rock must have done wonders for me. While I did enjoy the magnificent scenery (Andy and I are planning a trip in the fall where we will hopefully go on more than one trail) the shift in my attitude happened the day before. It made it possible for me to truly appreciate what I was seeing because I was at peace with myself.

Listen, I know this all sounds screwy and I have had some brief relapses but I've been able to pull myself out of my pity party quicker this time around. I also debated on posting this here since it sounds more Bee's Dark Side but I thought "screw it! I'm the boss of me!"

I feel like I'm back to my abnormal self. I've never underestimated the small things that can brighten my life. A pair of shoes, a flower, some kind words, whatever it may be, it's not silly if it makes you happy.

P.S.
I realize a pair of shoes does not cure any health issues m'mkay? Rest assured I have a team of gorgeous male models medical experts analyzing every molecule in my body.

P.P.S.

While hiking, we came across a bunch of carvings that stated 'so and so was here' my favorite was:

(here with your mom on 4/20/09)

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..."-How to revoke phone privileges.

Starved Rock

We are at this moment driving to Starved Rock state park. I enjoyed the ride and have only had to pee for the past 45 minutes which isn't that big of an issue... the only drawback? Nothing but country music stations!

I'll be back with updates like "Andy fell into the water!" okay maybe pushed.

Missing!!

One hilarious (well, hilarious may be a stretch) post.

Last seen after being printed on an old noisy printer at Arkham Asylum and stuffed stealthily into a very stylish red nine west satchel (I'd post pictures of the purse but then it would detract from the tragedy because it is awesome).

 

Reward if found. 

 

Disclaimer!

Reward has no monetary value unless you count coconut shells as money.

This post is brought to you by...*

I love watching commercials. I know that may not be a popular thing to say in this day of TiVos and DVRs but I enjoy a well crafted attempt to hypnotize me into obesity/alcoholism/gambling/promiscuity.

One of my favorite commercials right now is the one for Schick Quattro. I hope the creative minds behind this idea are, at this very moment, on a boat sipping champagne in St. Tropez.

It is seriously one of the best commercials I have ever seen. Take a look:

The first time I saw it, I laughed my ass off while Andy looked at me in confusion.

Bee: Don't you get it?

Andy: It's a commercial about a razor, so?

Bee: Do you see what's happening to the bushes as the women walk by them?

I rewind it so he can see the bushes.

Andy: I don't get it.

Bee: Good lord man! The woman walks by the bush and then it morphs into a more manicured shape!

Andy: ...?

Bee: Bush bush BUSH!! [gestures wildly]

Andy: Oh BUSH!! [nods and points]

::sigh:: I married an innocent!

Anyway, the reason I think this commercial is genius is because they don't give you specifics and yet they leave nothing to the imagination... without being tacky. And I know tacky!

In the name of blogscience, I will test out what the commercial advertises and walk in front of a bush.

Before:

After:

Ummmm, uh-oh?

*Alternate title "One in the hand is worth 2 in the bush"

The butterfly that saved a marriage. Not that there was any real danger!

So... you guys are all geniuses! Some of you came up with great solutions for the marital squabble we were in the midst of (Suzy, I can send him to you when he needs a haircut). My favorite was from Aunt Juicebox who said to just keep it as a conversation piece because she keeps a plastic alligator in her fridge for just that purpose. How awesome is that? Maybe I can shellack the cake and keep it out in a glass cake dome?

I also forgot to mention that the cake made the trip from our apartment (where we lived for 3 years) to our new house (5 years in October). It was transported amongst the fine china and then placed into the freezer with the utmost of care. Yeah. You read that right.

Anyway, Andy and I have now called a truce and it's all thanks to a beautiful butterfly sighting in my garden. I was unable to take a very clear picture because I was inside the house and about 10 feet away:

So I decided to use the video recording thing on my camera. Just to warn you, it's kinda long and you hear me talking to Andy at about 1:24 and I sound cheesy and lame. You may be surprised on how our voices sound and there's also a crying dog in the background and Andy admonishing Mocha... don't watch it, okay?

Nooter, this liver's for you:

Later peoples!

When a marriage clears the 7 year itch milestone, isn't it time to throw out the anti-fungal ointment?

So… no comic today. I know I know we suck but it's just that Andy and I are having a small uh disagreeeement so we did not prepare anything because, in the time honored tradition of all arguments in the Cor-Rut household, we are each too stubborn to back down. Nothing major. No need to worry. We'll probably just wind up having a dance off to declare a winner.

It all started with Andy asking if I was going to clean out the fridge and me asking if he owned me and then him saying something about no iPhone for me and so I jumped up and said I was just kidding and haha he fell for it because that's exactly what I was going to do today because hello! I allotted all this extra time and even bought rubber gloves for the occasion. Ay-ay-ay. ::twitches nervously::

Everything was going well, moldy grapes- trashed. Mysterious stuff in Tupperware container- garbage! Container and all! All these things were approved by his highness to be disposed of... then we hit a glitch. When it was time to reorganize the freezer, I came across a plastic bag.

As some of you may remember, my Andy and I did not have a traditional wedding. We tied the knot and then a couple of months later had our backyard party. However, thanks to my awesome mother-in-law, we did have a beautiful cake.

Having never been married before and blocking out all weddings I’d ever attended, I was not aware that there was a peculiar tradition to save a piece of cake and then eat it at the one year anniversary mark but people were assuring me it would bring us good luck and a long, happy marriage. Some of these same people were divorced and on their second marriages but who am I to judge?

Since Andy and I hadn’t followed too many of the marriage traditions, we decided to follow this one. We did have a big piece of cake left, besides getting violent diarrhea, what could it hurt?

Exactly one year (and some months) later (shhh! we forgot on the anniversary and didn’t remember until we were making room in the freezer for yummy ribs) we opened up the freezer baggie, unfolded the paper it had been wrapped in and proceeded to sink our teeth into some tasteless saw dust. Mmmm

We each only had a small bite and decided that was enough to hopefully get us to our 30th wedding anniversary. We’d reevaluate our relationship after that. I grabbed the cake, baggy and all, and walked over to the garbage can to throw it out when Andy decided to voice his disagreement.

[conversation not from actual memory but I'm sure it went something like this because it sounds right in my head]

Andy:

What are you doing?

Bee:

Uh making cupcakes?

Andy:

Why are you going to throw the cake out? Shouldn’t we save it?

Bee:

For what? You want to age it like cheese and try it again next year?

Andy:

No, I just don’t think it would be good luck to throw it out.

Bee:

Would you like me to flush it down the toilet? That way we can fool the gods into thinking we ate it?

Andy:

Stop being a smart ass. Just put it back in the freezer.

So I did because we all know I do everything my Andy tells me to. That was SEVEN YEARS AGO!

And so ladies and gents, we are reliving that same argument. I say it's been long enough but Andy’s delicate sensibilities insist we keep it. He says I should take my heart out of the jar I keep it in and use it every once in a while.

Who has an argument over 8 year old cake? I told him maybe we should use this as material for the comic but he gave me the stink eye and walked away.

Did anybody else save their cake this long? More importantly, does anybody want some? And by some I mean ALL OF IT.

Signs of the Apocalypse at Arkham Asylum

Just when I think things at work can't get any worse I get an unexpected kick to the crotch.

I don't know if you've noticed, OR CARE, but I have not mentioned my search for an assistant this year. It's partly because I'm a superstitious fool and I do believe that me saying the words out loud or, you know, on a post, may jinx my overworked-but-happy-not-to-have-a-moron-hanging-from-my-neck life.

Unfortunately for me, some people at the Asylum do not have enough work to do so the next "" logical "" step is to assign one of these bladdernuts to me. As my assistant.

Who was the lucky dingbat to have the honor of working with me? Scarecrow the X-ray tech. I freaked out of course because, besides thinking she knows everything about fake cheese, she is also an idiot. I reached out to the one person who I knew would sympathize, my former (AWESOME) assistant, BD. At first he was a pain in the ass because we obviously speak in different generations. My generation is smarter, stronger, nicer. His is mean, vindictive and whiney. But then he came through as he always did when he worked alongside me at the nuthouse.

This conversation took place via texts:

Bee: Dude! They want to assign Scarecrow to be my part-time assistant!!!

BD: ?????

Bee: What’s with the”?”? Did u not hear me or are u as shocked as i am?

BD: I am fucking shocked!! WTF r they thinking?

Bee: I dunno but I’m having a h-attack just thinking bout it!

BD: H-attack?

Bee: HEART attack! jeez louise u’re young dontcha know the lingo?

BD: Young people dont worry about “H-ATTACKS” we also dont say “jeez louise” or “lingo”

Bee: Don’t change the subject. What am I gonna do??

BD: Shes got bad knees just pus her.

Bee: WTF? ‘pus’ hahahahaha!! and also eww!

BD: Old people shouldnt be texting

Bee: Young people should respect their elders

BD: pfft! I like pushing them into traffic

Bee: I will save that text for when you become a slimy politician

BD: Senator I have no idea who this “bee” is

-5 hours later because I got busy working so I didn’t respond-

BD: Well?

Bee: ‘well’ what?

BD: Whats going on with the asst thing

Bee: Nothing yet. She just went around saying ‘I’m gonna be BD’

BD: Bitch

Bee: Yep with a capital STUPIDASS!

BD: She doesnt have the looks to be me

Bee: I dunno, u both look like muppets

BD: Old people start smelling funny at 37

Bee: Why are you sniffing old people? New fetish?

BD: THAT WAS DISGUSTING!

Bee: U started

BD: I was thinking about it and you should use this argument:

-A BUNCH OF MINUTES GO BY-

BD: “Her prior indiscretions demonstrate she may be prone to relay personal info at inopportune times thereby violating PHI/HIPAA making her a liability”

Bee: ::blink blink:: great idea!

BD: Thatll be $300

Bee: You learned that shit from ME for FREE fool!

BD: 300 bucks will keep me on retainer for the rest of ur life or until u turn 50

Bee: Why 50?

BD: Dont u have some psycho hit on urself?

Bee: Thanks. Now my nightmares will return

BD: I will even represent Andy in the wrongful death suit

Bee: Knowing it’s gonna happen, doesn't that make everybody accessories?

BD: As my own council, i am ending this conversation

Bee: I win! Get used to hearing that.

BD: When did you become so cruel?

Bee: That’s what old age does to a person- look at Jerry Lewis

BD: Is that the guy from the grateful dead?

Bee: No that’s Jerry Garcia he’s dead but that was more due to drugs than age. Lewis was the original nutty professor now he’s a cranky old dude.

BD: Thanks for the useless trivia- ROLLS EYES

Bee: Dont u need to shine ur snakeskin boots and go sing karaoke, country style?

BD: Thats tomorrow. Let me know how it goes with OZ. Otherwise plan b

Bee: Later!

BD: Arent u gonna ask what plan b is?

Bee: What is it?

BD: u re-hire the asst from last year.

Bee: I hate you.

BD: LMFAO theres some “lingo” for you

 

Don't tell that big headed fool that his advice actually worked. I'd never hear the end of it!

Apparently spiders and ants have had the same Sensei in the ancient art of THE NINJA (said in reverent whisper).

We've had an ant problem at the Asylum for quite some time. These aren't the cute and cuddly little red ants either. They're the big ugly black ones. People would just brush them off the table, wall, shoulder, SANDWICH and shrug as if to say "meh, I've had worse disease ridden/riddled creatures on my tuna fish!" Me? I'm not so blasé so you would typically hear my cries of "Die you exoskeleton shit eater!", some mad stomping and then my coffee would kick in.

The dramaedy didn't reach its drama until someone found an ant walking around the toilet seat (I'm hoping before they lowered their dra'ws to sit on said seat) then all hell broke loose! All of a sudden it was imperative an exterminator came and uh exterminated the ants! We are not just talking about tuna fish anymore people! Now we have them attacking us were they can do the most damage!

So we called Norm.

Norm:

Where are these alleged ants?

Us:

Everywhere.

Norm:

Well, can you tell me where you've seen them?

Us:

EvErYwHeRe!

Norm:

So not just in the kitchen??

Bee:

For shitake's sake Norm! EVERYWHERE!!

Norm:

Language young lady!-- Did you say *shitake*? Okay, I'll have an exterminator out today.

And so he was true to his word and we had an emergency visit from the bug killer. I didn't see what the dude did because it was Friday and I left at THREE ON THE DOT, after telling OZ I was not going to have our weekly Friday meeting because he had the pig virus and I'd rather he keep it to himself, but when I came in on Monday morning, I asked if he had left little invitations for all ants and their distant relatives inviting them over for a nice cup of tea. Why? Because the ants TRIPLED!

I don't know about you but to me the word "exterminate" means to destroy!, eliminate!, eradicate!, that which bugs you. Clearly there had been a misunderstanding!

After I Michael Jacksoned my way out of the kitchen, it was decided Mr. Ex-Terminator-he-ain't (head roll, finger snap) would have to come back for another once over (or as I like to call it "do your effing job and kill those suckers before they start hitching rides in my clothes!)

I suggested buying a big vat of chocolate and putting a sign on the table that said "Get your chocolate covered ants here!" but the women just wrinkled their noses at me. Yeaaah! I'm the gross one!

When the exterminator dude showed up I thought, "no wonder the ants aren't afraid of this shorts, Hawaiian shirt, tanning lotion wearing parrot head!". He walked in (announcing his presence to everybody in the waiting room) and asked us where we had seen the ants.

All together now:

Everywhere!

He was carrying a paper bag and pulled out a couple of these:

I heard tiny, mocking laughter.

This makes me wonder if exterminators need proper training and credentialing because really I could just slap on a sticker on the ass of my car that says "Bee, exterminator to the stars" and then walk around dropping these little things everywhere I go like a fumigating angel of death. Where did Norm find this guy? Cheech and Chong play Magnum PI casting rejects? Okay, I know that's mean and he must be a very nice pot smoking/Jimmy Buffet fan and I may be just lashing out because I'm tired of squirming and battling things on my face that are just wisps of my hair!

For now, I think it's safest to eat with a lunch buddy. That way, if any ninja ants are making their way towards my Lean Cuisine, there will be 4 eyes keeping vigil. Well, 8 if you count our glasses.

The Ugly Truth. What an appropriate title.

The hubs and I went to see The Ugly Truth. The only way I would recommend this movie is if I had the leading role and they were giving me a diamond iPhone. And maybe not even then.

I was very disappointed because I really wanted to like this movie. Instead I sat in my seat, fidgeting until it was my turn to hold the yummy nachos.

I don’t do movie critiques well, I leave that to the awesome Suzy, but I just want to point out what my pet peeves were.

Katherine Heigl comes off as shrill and overcaffeinated/over-actor instead of what they were going for which I'm assuming was a hopeless, likable, workaholic. Gerard Butler, whom I love but now I’m having second thoughts of adding to “My List”, makes weird facial expressions and I believe it’s because he’s trying to wrap his lips around American English. He winds up looking like Vincent Donofrio after his body was invaded by that weird roach-like alien in Men in Black.

Back to Heigl. I’m not a director nor do I want to pretend to know what it involves to be one BUT! I wish he would have told her that she didn’t need to keep smiling like a fool when she was doing a seductive dance with GB. She is a gorgeous woman but her open mouth profile reminded me of those clowns in fairs where you have to squirt the water in them to fill up a balloon or the Joker. Her chin disappears and she’s all teeth.

I know, scary!

All in all the acting was horrible. Don’t go see this movie. Save yourself the 8-10 bucks (16-20 if you have a nacho buddy) and go watch a toilet flushing instead. (sans nachos)

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

Continued from:

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..."- Last resort babysitters.