Happy New Year! (I couldn't think of a better title)

New Year's Eve started like any other day. With me on my hands and knees looking for my pants. Just kidding! I was on my hands and knees but I was looking for a clippy thingie that attaches my earpiece wire to my clothes. It had popped off for the millionth time because I keep forgetting to unclip it before I walk away from my desk. Milton was in the middle of another one of her epic tales that involve socks or blocks or cocks not really sure since I couldn't hear her well.

Let's listen in:

Milton: —— so I'm going to update my résumé but I will wait for something good to come up because I don't want to make a bilateral move.

THUNK! [that's my head hitting my desk]

Me: A what? A bilateral move?

Milton: Yeah. That's when you go from the same position and money from one job to another.

Me: ::blink blink:: I think you mean lateral.

Milton: Nooooo I mean Bi-lateral! [looks down on/at me because I am on my knees and because she thinks I'm stupid] *BI* means 2 so you move from your present job, JOB ONE, to another job, JOB TWO, which makes it BILATERAL.

Me: ... I learn something new everyday!   

In this case I learned some people are way overpaid.

I've been trolling the internet and there are a lot of people who are wishing for a better year because 2009 kicked them in the nuts. I wish happiness and success for them because we were there in 2008. Not to say we were burning money because we definitely struggled but we thankfully managed to keep afloat.

As for New Year's resolutions, I don't believe in them. Unless you count me exclaiming to world that I resolve to be crabbier in 2010 while in my PJs a resolution. MY promise to find the culprit who messes with my 2 whole punch every freakin day(!) could count as a resolution I guess.

Andy and I are too old to go out and celebrate with the young 'uns but we are going to ring in the New Year by sitting in the warmth of our house, having Kaluha & cream, eating pistachios and watching Terminator Salvation (I know, cheery movie to ring in 2010 but I might get some tips on survival) with potty mouth Christian Bale. At midnight we will open up a bottle of sparkling cider for a toast to family, health, friends and good fortune.

May you and yours have a blessed New Year!

P.S.

Out of Context!

Today, 12/31/09, I was able to say:

"Hey now ladies, 10:30 is too early to talk about sodomy"

So all in all, 2009 went out with a bang!

I love starting my mornings by racing old ladies!

I had just parked my car and was hauling ass towards the door because I was thisclose to being late (yep, I've been successful in my pre-New Year's resolution to be on time. I'm 3 for 3 this week!) all of a sudden, this older woman starts catching up to me and yells "I'm gonna beat you!" so I stopped in my tracks and asked "Like knock me on my butt *beat me*?" I needed to know in case I had to break out my Karate stance. She stops and looks at me in wide eyed innocence (I'm sure she was totally faking it!) and asks "Pardon me?"  and that's when I ran to the door and left her in my dust! In your face old lady! You can't beat a cheater!

(Racing Grannies)

All she was left with was the echo of my laughter!

MUAHAHAHAHA!!

 

What? She started it!

What matters is the amount of pride you put into your work . . . riiiight?

I went on an interview at a clothing store for a part time job on Saturday. I'm not going to name names because this crew is younger and knows how to google. I think it went great . . . actually I think I ♫ nailed it ♪!

It started with the woman asking me things like "what is your greatest accomplishment" and me answering "staying out of jail" just kidding! I said something like "we pulled ourselves out of near poverty to where we now live a comfortable existence" (which I know doesn't make sense because here I am looking for a part time job but that's how we were able to have some measure of success, by doing what we had to do) then her asking what my strengths were and me answering the clichéd "being a team player" and when she asked about my weakness I was temporarily at a loss for words because HELLO! What weaknesses? I came clean and told her I'm quick to anger, I mock stupid people incessantly to their faces AND I have a BLOG where I mock ALL people to anyone who'll listen my lack of punctuality was my main weakness but I assured her it would not happen here because I would be coming from a second job therefore I would already be awake. Hopefully.

  She then put me on the spot by saying "pretend I'm a client and you are trying to sell me the outfit you're wearing now, what would you say to make me want to buy it?" It just so happened that I was clothed from top to underbottoms with clothes from this store so I said:

"These slacks have a great fit around the waist line, the length is perfect for someone of my height (short but cute), but they also come in freakishly tall and sorry you're average. I bought them a few years ago but they have withstood the test of many washings by not fading and showing no signs of wear and tear. Also, if you hang them up right after drying, there is no need for ironing which is a big plus for someone like me who is always running late is always pressed for time. The sweater has a perfect ¾ length sleeve that allows me freedom to eat without soaking it in my soup, the fit accentuates the parts I want [I pointed at my boobies] and is slightly looser around my problem areas [I pointed at my jelly belly]. The color is a fantastic blue/green that goes well with many complexions and the most important point is that it did not shrink in the wash. I am also wearing undergarments that fit my a-little-too-much figure perfectly. Almost as if they were tailor made!"

She laughed and said she would definitely buy what I'm selling which I took as code for "you're full of shit but I can see people falling for your charming
ways" Why thank you, decoder in my head! She said she would check my references (sweating bullets)(not because people will have bad things to say about me because I am a gem but because I'm hoping they'll answer their freaking phones!) and I should know this week if I got the job. She also told me they get a 30% employee discount even off of already discounted items . . . I have never wanted a job more!

I know what you're thinking. That I am the self appointed Queen of the Antisocialites so how will I be able to deal with people on a daily basis? Well,  my friends, it would be hard but if it means getting juicy blog fodder, guess I'll just have to grin and bare it.

So anyway, I know you're all busy praying for obnoxious kittens and illiterate horses but if you could throw in a little prayer to the big guy to help me get this job, I'd really appreciate it! I may even let you use my 20% discount! Yes, I know I said it's 30% but the house takes 10%.

Christmas has come and gone on to the New Year!

The day I made up my mind that I didn't want to see Avatar was the day I was watching Bones and they had about 3 full blown commercials INSIDE THE TV SHOW!  I was like, "well, that takes a lot of balls!" but I muttered it under my breath because I didn't want to offend Mocha.

There is nothing I hate more than commercials inside my shows. You see it often enough like when actors are eating cereal and they awkwardly pick up the box in a way that shows the name clearly and then they brag about their Nikes. But, being the non-geeky half of a geeky couple, I was dragged kicking and screaming to see it last Sunday. I had to go anyway because he went to see New Moon with me, Brother Sergio and Crazy Ez so I owed him. I owed him BIG (because the movie sucked harder than a Hoover in the Sahara)(get it? because the Sahara is full of sand and some camels?)!

I heard that they spent millions of dollars marketing this movie but I have to say they failed. If I would have known a little more details about the plot, I may have gone to see it without a fight but since I thought it was just gonna be some fools playing virtual video games, I was dreading it.

Well, I was wrong.

I hate it when I see reviews of a movie where they say stuff like "it was visually stunning!" because I think to myself "get off your high horse you pretentious asshole!" so what I'll say is that this movie was VISUALLY STUNNING!

The plot is basically the same as Star Wars/The Matrix where there's a "chosen one" but I still loved it.

I sincerely recommend it. If there is only one movie you will see this winter season, forget about Jim Carey, Vampires and Sarah Jessica Horseface, go see Avatar!

 

In other news, I almost caught an intruder in the wee hours of the 25th but he disappeared up the chimney before I could pull out my boxing gloves! I hope the fat man brought you all the toys you asked for!

The ninja are all about stealth! Also, I think Christmas makes me paranoid.

I was asked to open the office on Tuesday morning. The 2 key holders were taking time off so they needed to pass on the responsibility to someone else. Someone they could trust to be on time and not have everybody sitting outside, waiting to be let in.

Unfortunately that someone who can be trusted is not me since I have a history of being late to everything but they had no choice because I was the only one available. MAHA!
 
I was taken for a dry run or more accurately tested on my key turning abilities by taking me outside of the office and locking the door. I did let Glynda know I had quite a few years of door unlocking under my belt but she told me these locks were different. They get stuck sometimes so you have to jiggle the key just so. . . you don't say? I once lived in an apartment that had a rusty deadbolt on the door that managed to eat my keys but I ALWAYS got in the house. I think I could handle a couple of jiggles.
 
I put the key in the deadbolt and turned it "did you hear a click?" Glynda asked "not only did I hear a click but I actually felt the bolt move!", I answered. "Okay, now move on to the doorknob" Glynda instructed. "Really?" I asked because I wasn't sure I was ready but I did as I was told and successfully unlocked the door! So I did a little jig as I walked inside.

After she made sure I would be able to let myself in (and really, the only thing that could have kept me from being able to unlock the door is maybe not reaching the lock) she gave me 3 different numbers where I could reach her in case of an emergency. I felt like I was 15 years old and I was babysitting my little cousins. And I mostly kept them in the pantry. True story.
 
Later that night, I made sure I had everything ready for my morning so that nothing would delay me in leaving early. Or, you know, on time. I tossed and turned until I eventually fell asleep and dreamt I had gotten to work 10 minutes late and Glynda was inside the office waiting for me with an enormous ruler... I don't know either, so I woke up feeling frantic only to realize I was still safe in bed and it was only 5:45.
 
I got ready for work and left my house at 7:30. IN THE MORNING! It only takes me about 5-7 minutes to get to work but I wanted to make sure I didn't get stopped by any trains, planes or automobiles. Sure enough, there was a traffic jam and I wound up punching it at 7:50. But I was still early! Woohoo!!
 
Glynda is usually the person who gets to the office first. She leaves the back door open for employees to come in and sits and does her work at the front part of the building. This troubled me because, if a ninja decided to attack me, he could because I would be sitting defenseless at my desk. And even if I had my guard up, I still might not realize a ninja had infiltrated the office because I wouldn't be able to hear him jumping around from filing cabinet to filing cabinet.
 
So I made the decision to wait in the kitchen, which is near the back door, for the first person to arrive.

I made coffee, toasted a bagel and settled in for a long wait. I waited. 

Oh I heard something!

Nope nothing!

Wait!

Nope, still no one!

And so I waited some more.

Finally Toto came in, 15 minutes late may I add, so I pretended I had just gone to the back for my coffee so that I wouldn't look like a wimp. Not that I'm ashamed because you can never trust a ninja. If you don't believe me, ask those who have battled ninjas. Only you can't because they're dead!
 
Remember last year on Christmas Eve when I thought an intruder had entered my house and I was in the shower so I couldn't go out and drop kick their ass until I got dressed? So much for feeling peace during the Christmas season!

On that note, Feliz Navidad to you all!

Viva Le Secret Santa Can Suck It! Year Deux!

Well, it's that time of year where we buy expensive gifts for people who will turn around and store them in their closets. And that's nowhere to keep puppies. For too long.

Anyway, this year I got Reforming Geek as my victim for SSCSI. I've been reading her for over a year and I'm usually jealous of her nice weather. Especially when I have to walk out of my house into the frozen tundra. But! There are times when I read her blog and think "that chick is all kinds of nuts!" like when she goes on those early morning triathlons and she does all that exercising to ""stay in shape"" and ""be healthy"" that's why God invented plastic surgery, duh!

So I sat at my desk and wondered what I could get the girl that has everything, including health. Finally, after a half dozen brownies, I had a great idea!

She really loves to make rum balls. I mean she really really likes to EAT rums balls. Sooooo, since we all know how difficult it is to remove balls from rum (rum tends to kick and scream)(from both pleasure and pain) you kinda have to stand on their neck while somebody else takes the pliers and... well, I won't give you too many details since I don't want anyone passing out on aisle 3.

To spare RG all that screaming and splattered rum juice, I invented this super nifty gadget I will call:

The Rum Baller 2000

I know what you're thinking. That it looks like a funnel but it's not!

(yes, those are Andy's hands but he didn't know what I was up to so he's free of sin)

You put the rum at the top and shake until the "EXPOSED AREA" is dangling through the tiny opening at the bottom and then you pinch off- wait, YOU PINCH OFF the little rum balls.

TAAADAAA!

No mess, no fuss, no alcoholics waiting to lick the rum juice off your counter! Yes, I know rum balls are clear and have no pigmentation but I dyed them the color of red potatoes so you could see them.

It's also available in 10 different sizes.

And so, RG, I hope my gift serves you for a very long time to come. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

  

***WARNING AND DISCLAIMER***

Keep out of reach of all male members (PADUM PUMP!) of your family to avoid freak accidents. Also, this product is patent pending and while I'm waiting for said patent I will be drinking a little rum, doing a little dance...

 

Please see the links on the side bar titled Secret Santa Can Suck It II for the rest of the participants.

Bee n' Andy - Unruly Christmas!

 

Showering with Bee. But we're all fully clothed, m'mkay?

I'm not an environmental zealot by any stretch of the imagination but when I hear about something I may easily change about my habits that will help save a polar bear so he may live to eat more evil seals , I make an attempt to adjust my lifestyle.

The other day, while in the shower and listening to the radio, I heard the announcer say that if we all stopped using bottled body wash and used bars of soap instead, it would avoid a gabillion bottles going to landfills. I thought back to my life pre-bottled body wash and had no ill memories so I decided to give it a try.

Tuesday morning was my first day testing this *bar of soap experiment* since my body wash had officially run out. I chose Irish Spring as my soap because I imagined myself frolicking in a secluded spring with a good looking Irishman with strong hands and-uh [clears throat] yeah. I lathered up my wash cloth and was immediately disappointed when it didn't suds up as much as my body wash.

I'm a firm believer in the 'no suds, no clean' theory I made up for when I do laundry and dishes so I applied this same theory to my shower. I kept reapplying the soap to my wash cloth but I was running out of time so I did the best I could with what I had.

As I was rinsing, I immediately felt something abnormal. My skin started tightening. I looked at my arm to make sure it hadn't turned into plastic but it was as fleshy as ever. When I began drying myself, the tightening got worse! I dared not bend over for fear of my skin cracking wide open! I lotion-ed myself up as fast as I could and I instantly felt like those leather chairs that undergo oil treatments to make them all soft and mushy. Ahhh! I was back to normal! But fro how long?

I really don't know if I want to go through that again. I may just give my soap to Andy and look for a more woman friendly bar for myself. Womens out there, do you have any suggestions other than Dove and Caress? I want a soap that'll last me some time and not dissolve in water after the first use.

Later, as I was shellacking on my make up, I heard the radio dudes say that a Beluga whale had given birth and this caused a warm and fuzzy feeling in my tum tum so I was all "Awwww" but then I immediately followed it up with "Son of a bitch!" because this baby whale is 5'4 and 162 pounds which makes it skinnier and taller than me!

 

To recap, my skin now resembles a dried out mushroom and whales are taller and skinner than I am!

Crappy Holidays to me!

 

Just kidding, Santa.

You know how sometimes you want to do something because you think "how bad can it be?" and then your brain tries to talk you out of it by reminding you of that one time you shoplifted and your mom spanked you so hard the brand name of her shoe is still stenciled to your ass? Yeah, it's like that!

I am an intelligent person. I swear I am. But sometimes oh my lord can I make stupid decisions!

It all started a week ago when I was going to make cheesy salsa dip. It involves only 2 things. Salsa and cream cheese. In order to mix the two, the cream cheese needs to be softened so I took out a brick of Philly Cream Cheese, accept no substitutions,  and let it sit on the counter for a little while. The little while turned out to be a week because we ran out of chips for dipping then we forgot to buy more then I became sidetracked etc.

Well, on Sunday, I decided to make a fruit cocktail that is infamous in our house. One of the ingredients is cream cheese. We bought 2 fresh bricks, I mixed everything together, then tasted it. Bleh! Too sweet! I thought to myself "gee! I wish had one more thing of cream cheese! ... Wait a minute!"

Does anyone else see where this is going?

I opened the package that had sat on my counter for about 2 weeks (yes, it probably was 2 weeks) and did a sniff test. The smell of cream cheese isn't a pleasant one to begin with so that didn't work.

Okay, I'll just TASTE it. I licked it- just kidding! I'm not an animal! I take a little piece and put it in my mouth, not bad! I taste a bigger piece JUST TO BE SURE! Still tastes good. In my head, I'm thinking the warning to keep refrigerated is a gross exaggeration! This thing has been out for at least 3 weeks (yes, may have been about 21 days) and it's fine! It's probably because the kitchen was so cold- without thinking, I take another piece and eat it as I'm rummaging through the fridge for orange juice that's when I notice I do have another container of cream cheese so I decide to use that instead. Better safe than sorry, you know?

I threw out the old warm cream cheese that was still perfectly fine and used the refrigerated one. My desert came out great once I de-sweeten it and we lived happily ever after! Only not!

Currently, I'm sitting at my desk (okay, computer cart!) waiting for Freddy Krueger to rip his way out of my stomach so that I may finally be at peace! The pain is un-freakin-bearable! Seriously. If I'm ever taken hostage and the terrorists want to make me spill the recipe for my pulled pork sandwiches all they have to do is give me expired cream cheese and wait 20 minutes.

This will go on my "do not do ever again!" list. Along with 'rub eyes after cleaning red pepper shaker' 'stick hands in shark tank' 'walk out in 10 degree weather while rocking flip flops' 'tap dance on thin ice' Well, let's face it, the list goes on and on.

 

Bloggers! Don't forget to join the Secret Santa Can Suck It Year Deux!

Where we give someone we don't know pretend gifts that may make them laugh or cry (for bonus points!). Email me at beesmusings@gmail.com

If you need details go HERE if you want examples from last year go HERE if you think I need therapy go HERE.

Thanks to all those who have signed up so far. It's gonna be awesome!

"Bee n' Andy" - PRIORITIES!

 

 

 

-Also, all you bloggers out there, start preparing for Bee's Musing's second annual Secret Santa Can Suck It!* Woohoo! Yeah! More Confetti! With Gold Sparklies!

I know what you're thinking, "Bee, the economy has me rationing my dog's food. Poor Pudgy now goes by the nickname of Slim."

Never fear! This involves absolutely no money at all and the price is as cheap as imagination! Not to imply your imagination is cheap because I know it must cost your employers thousands of dollars while you sit at your desk and imagine yourself rich, sitting next to a model (man or woman, whatever tickles your fancy), drinking rum out of Brad Pitt's bellybutton.

For those of you who weren't around last year, that's when I picked a blogger out of a hat and assigned him/her to another blogger. And then you tell them what you would have gotten them had you the money and/or you know, cared, you post it on your blog and fun ensues. It is Secret Santa so you can't tell the person you got that you got them because then it's not a secret. That's the other part of the fun. Clicking through the list of participants to see who your Secret Santa is.

... I know it sounds complicated but it's really not.

It was a lot of fun last year but sadly some of the people that participated last year are either no longer blogging or I haven't kept in touch sooooooo! If you want to sign up for it, email me at beesmusings@gmail.com with the link to your blog.

If you want to check out how it worked last year, click on the Secret Santa Can Suck It! link at the top of the blogus.-

The horrible case of the hypnotizing Michael Bublé. Plus Secret Santa Can Suck It- Part Deux!

So I woke up this morning feeling pretty good about myself until I remembered I had admitted to my sister I liked Michael Bublé. The scary part is that I was sober. Goes to show that even the secrets you think you will take with you to your grave have a way of coming out when you least expect it. Either that or I just have the will power of a hyena.

Anyway, the conversation started off innocently while we were unloading her Christmas tree from her Explorer:

Sister Nancy: Pull it up and I'll shove from my end [in a whisper] I like Michael Bublé. 

Me [in a shocked yell]: ME TOO!

-SILENCE-

We obviously both realized that it would have been better to confess to shoplifting cat food than to confess to the Bublé  thing but it was too late to take it back so we justified by saying:

Me: But just his songs because he's a total dillweed.

Sister Nancy: Yeah and he's ugly too!

Me: Yeah he is!

-MORE SILENCE-

Sister Nancy: But I still want to see him in concert.

Me: Hey, hey! Let's not go too far, okay?

As for me, I started liking the dude when somebody broke into my house and left their Michael Bublé CD behind. First I liked one song then another and then Christmas came along and he covered some Christmas oldies... next thing I knew my iTunes account was loaded with Bublés

::sigh:: I'm not proud of it but at least I know I'm still a badass because if Michael Bublé  and I were to get into a fist fight, I'm confident I can beat him up and make a purse out of his vocal chords.

Oh, don't tell Nancy I told you.

 

Announcements!!

Bee n' Andy Comic Strip is back this coming Sunday! I know, YAY! Confetti!

Also, all you bloggers out there, start preparing for Bee's Musing's second annual Secret Santa Can Suck It!* Woohoo! Yeah! More Confetti! With Gold Sparklies!

I know what you're thinking, "Bee, the economy has me rationing my dog's food. Poor Pudgy now goes by the nickname of Slim."

Never fear! This involves absolutely no money at all and the price is as cheap as imagination! Not to imply your imagination is cheap because I know it must cost your employers thousands of dollars while you sit at your desk and imagine yourself rich, sitting next to a model (man or woman, whatever tickles your fancy), drinking rum out of Brad Pitt's bellybutton.

For those of you who weren't around last year, that's when I picked a blogger out of a hat and assigned him/her to another blogger. And then you tell them what you would have gotten them had you the money and/or you know, cared, you post it on your blog and fun ensues. It is Secret Santa so you can't tell the person you got that you got them because then it's not a secret. That's the other part of the fun. Clicking through the list of participants to see who your Secret Santa is.

... I know it sounds complicated but it's really not.

It was a lot of fun last year but sadly some of the people that participated last year are either no longer blogging or I haven't kept in touch sooooooo! If you want to sign up for it, email me at beesmusings@gmail.com with the link to your blog.

If you want to check out how it worked last year, click on the Secret Santa Can Suck It! link at the top of the blogus.

No more nose bleeds at work. Well, because of dryness but I can't make any promises I won't break some noses.

I know you're probably wondering what that picture is of or what it means. Well, that right there is my ghetto humidifier. The  ladies' skin is now so thin that they keep the thermostat at what the sun must feel like during a heat wave so it makes the office extremely dry. Since OZ would rather buy a $1,000 fishing lure instead of a humidifier that would prevent office fires, I remembered my sister mentioning this nifty trick of putting water in a jar with a rolled up newspaper and now I can actually breathe without hacking. I know it's not esthetically pleasing but if it gets the job done that's all that matters.

I miss the old school radiators that had a pan on top that you could fill with water and it made the air all moisty.

Also, the newspaper I used has a picture of T!ger Woods on the front page. I made sure to crinkle him extra tight and dunk him upside down as a show of solidarity to all women with men who have a trapdoor for a zipper.

Thursday is our office Christmas party. The planning has been hell same as every year I've been there. Pray for me people! Pray for me as you read about our Christmas past:

The longest day in history!

♪♫ Silver Balls. Siiiiiiiiiillver Baaaaaaalls! ♫♪

Ahhhhhhhh! There's nothing like walking out the back door and sliding sideways until your butt is stopped by the backyard gate. Lucky for me, I have the reflexes of a geriatric  cat  high on marijuana so I managed to steady myself so that I wouldn't fall forward and land on my frozen begonias. The gate suffered no severe injuries in case you were wondering.

Andy and I went to get our Christmas tree on Saturday morning, we buy a real tree because I love the smell of decaying pine in my living room, and so did every other couple within a 50 mile radius of our home as evidence by the crowd at Home Depot.

We strolled along the aisles and then Andy asked me which one I wanted. I had just noticed a family standing a few feet ahead of us holding up what I would say is the definition of a Christmas tree. It was perfectly shaped, the size wasn't too big or too small and it had full and sturdy branches. So, me being me, I responded, "I want the one they have." and I swear to Neptune the family turned and gave me a look that said "we will protect this tree to our death!"

I immediately started laughing because I hadn't realized my voice had been that loud. As I was turning to share the joke with Andy, another family hugged their tree tighter to their side, fearing I would take their crappy anorexic tree from their grubby hands. I rolled my eyes and said "I was just kidding people!" Honestly! People are so paranoid!

I did keep an eye on the first family just in case they became distracted enough for me to pull and old switcheroo but I think they were onto my wily ways.

No matter, we found our perfect tree anyway.

You know what I noticed? All the couples buying trees were arguing with each other. It made me sad because buying a tree is such a special tradition in most families it should be a fun time with bonding and hot chocolate not yelling and calling each other morons. Suck it up for your children for shitsake!

I know people get stressed over the holidays because of gift buying but you have to stop and wonder if it's worth yearly freak out. Andy and I used to have shopping nightmares too but now that we can't afford gifts, we just sit back with our spiked eggnog an watch Elf on loop. Who wants to join us?

My super cape runeth over and trips me.

As some of you may know, I don't have children... I should clarify and say I don't have children of my own but I am familiar with the species because I see them bouncing off of walls in my house.

Anyway, because I don't have little creatures, of the human variety, I never thought I would have to do things like change diapers (I was wrong!), rush out to the pharmacy to get emergency infants Tylenol (did that last night) and help little ones with homework...

There I was, sittin' on the couch, I had just organized all necessary items in front and beside me to start my post for the evening. Water? Check! Kleenex? Check! TV remote? Check! Laptop on lap? Check and check!! When all of a sudden, my phone rings. My phone that is approximately 100 feet away from where my butt is sitting "curses!" I exclaim but then I shrugged and figured that if it was urgent, they'd call me back. As soon as my phone stops ringing, it starts ringing again. Dang flabbit! Now I have to dig myself out of my little cocoon!

I pick it up and it's my niece Natalia asking for help with her homework. I didn't even hesitate! I picked up my calculator (in case it was math related)(yes she's 6) and ran downstairs to my mom's where she was staying the night.

To my pleasant surprise, she needed help with coming up with sentences for her spelling homework and not the dreaded numbers. Hmmm I hadn't even thought about needing my laptop for spell check purposes.

So I sat down and "helped" this little braniac and didn't even get irritated when she corrected my punctuation (don't forget the period! & Tia Bee, the sentence "I ate too much" needs an exclamation because I want it to say "UGH I ATE TOO MUCH!") and so we finished the third section and then I was informed by little miss sunshine that my services were no longer needed but she would call me when she needed to take her practice test.

I came back upstairs, set my phone next to me and waited patiently.

Half an hour later, I'd paced all over my house and was fighting the urge to call her and see if she still needed me. Would I be rushing her? I finally couldn't stand it any longer so I called my mom. Turns out that, while I was brushing up on my spelling of all words, her daddy had come over to help her. Her daddy who had to get in his car, drive 15 minutes or so in the cold and sleet to come help his little girl do her homework.

Did I hear you guys say "Awwwww!"?? Because seriously that is just Boo! Boo I say!

What am I gonna do with all this extra knowledge??

I went downstairs after I heard Big Tex leave and I confronted her:

Me: Um yeah, I thought you were supposed to call me?

Natalia [trying to look all innocent]: Well, daddy came and he helped me finish and gave me my practice test and everything!

Me: I waited and waited...

Natalia [covering her mouth, probably laughing at me!]: Sorry, Tia Bee. But look! I'm eating the cake you made last night! It's really good!

Me: Don't patronize me!

Natalia [looking at me strangely]: Okaay. I have to go to bed now. Have a good day at work tomorrow.

And then she came and gave me a hug but I know it was just out of pity.

Not cool, people! Not cool at all. 

How deep can a cotton swab go?

So, last week I said I was feeling better and my brain capacity was back and blah blah blah... WELL! I've had a relapse. I blame Cook County Board President Todd Stroger. What an asshole! There. I said it.

I finally had enough and went to see my doctor. Obviously I would need the extra help from special little pills because my beloved Nyquil was not doing the trick (but it has been putting my lights out at night). I left work early (the bats practically shoved my ass out the door) so that Andy could drive me into THE CITY.

Let me tell you something, never EVER tell your doctor that you know FOR A FACT that you don't have XYZ disease because she will look at you sideways and pull out the biggest fucking cotton swab ever made and stick it in your nose! Twice!

 

It went in so deep she was juggling my eyeballs! Then she left the room and came back with a little strip and we watched it for a few minutes until she was satisfied that I was not with swine flu. Yay! The only other time I was that happy was when I peed on a stick and it came out negative.

So she gave me some antibiotics and then asked "Did your husband come with you?" puzzled, I answered that yes he had because I can't drive at night so she then yelled out to Magda something in Polish and next thing you know, Andy and I were ambushed and shot in the arm. It hurt, I won't lie to you but at least now we are sitting in an invisible bubble where the dreaded swine flu will ping ping PING! right off!

Andy was freaking out because he thought he would suffer some unknown side effects, like break-dancing, but he seems to be okay. He was very brave.

P.S.

For those of you doubting the H1N1's powers, we had a beloved member in our family who was infected and it is very scary and real. I personally feel better knowing my Andy and I have been inoculated along with Natalia and my sister. Next up my mom and little Isabella.

 

Self Portraits by Isabella