Milton is full of *heavy* air?

I had a little trouble sleeping the other night and I was telling Milton about it because I tend to forget how a normal conversation can go dramatically wrong when talking to Milton.

Me: I woke up at about 3 a.m. and felt like I had a bubble of air trying to work its way out of my throat and I felt like was asphyxiating. I got up and the air came hissing out of my mouth like a punctured tire and it went on for what felt like 3 minutes. It was so weird!

Milton: I wonder if air makes you gain weight.

Me: Uh, what? Like if you inhale too much of it, you get fat? Is that what you mean?

Milton: No, no I know we can't fat from air [right because I'm the one that's being ridiculous!] I just mean that if I'm gassy and go weigh myself, will I weigh more than when I'm not gassy?

Me: . . .

Milton: Next time that happens to you, go weigh yourself before you burp and then weigh yourself after you burp just as a mini experiment.

Me: I thought I was going to die! I don't think I would have had the presence of mind to put on a robe, knock around in the dark as I walk to the bathroom and then weigh myself!

Milton: Just out of curiosity, what did you eat? Did you drink a lot of Pepsi? I think I'm going to try get gassy tonight and then weigh myself. I'll tell you tomorrow what happened.

Me: Please don't.

Why do people always look at me weird when they listen to my side of a phone conversation??

Me [to Andy]: It's a big piece of meat.

I listen to what Andy is saying.

Me: You'll recognize it when you see it. It's HUGE.

I listen some more

Me [I gesture with fingers and hands as if he can see me]: It's thick. About an inch, inch and a half. Probably about a foot long, maybe a little shorter.

Listen, listen, listen.

Me: Well, compare them. Which one is bigger?

I nod as I listen.

Me: Yup! That's the one I want! Now put it on the stove. Thanks!

I turn to see Margara staring at me and shaking her head as if she was trying to make sense of what she was hearing.

In the end, Andy chose the wrong piece of meat. I wanted this one:

  8 pounds

But he actually thawed the short and stubby one:

3.5 pounds

That man needs constant supervision!

Sane-ness is overrated. Or maybe I should say *SANITY* is overrated? Meh. I'll stick to *sane-ness*

As some of you may know, my brother-in-law Jim has moved into the Beehive. We're still adjusting and I'm sure we'll go through a bunch of head knocking before we all sit and cumbaya around a campfire.

Since my floor only has 2 bedrooms and one bedroom we use to go night night and the other is Andy's dungeon, Andy had to move his dungeon out so that Jim could use that as his bedroom.

Because our house isn't one of these houses:

 

we had to figure out where Andy's Orc murdering device would go.

Lucky for me, I now I have my man sitting only about 15 feet away from me.

Yep, that's right. We are now so close I can read his thoughts and he can hear my growls.

I'll be watching TV and swearing at it because it makes me angry or hungry and he'll be like "what? did you say something?" and I'll say "yes but not to you" and then he'll ask "what?" because he has his earphones on so he can only hear sounds I make and can't actually decipher them and then I'll respond "YES BUT NOT TO YOU" and he'll turn to stare at me and I'll have craned my neck to shake my head and he'll shrug and go back to his "quest". Or, I'll be sitting in quiet reflection as I scroll through my emails and I'll hear "pick up the ads, get out of the fire" and I'll ask "WHAT?? FIRE?? THERE'S A FIRE??" --silence-- "Andy??" and I'll get up so that I may make eye contact and then he'll shoo me away because he's mean and I'll go back to my chair all sad and dejected with the determination not to fall for his tricky trap again but 5 minutes later I'm all like "did you say something?"

I'm not looking forward to the day that I'm watching "So You Think You Can Dance" and swearing at the judges and Andy is trying to call orders to his minions and he'll get upset because his minions can hear me call Nigel an aging douchebag and so a spousal brawl will break out in the kitchen because there isn't any room to fight anywhere else.

::sigh::

On the bright side, I'm partially deaf out of my right ear so maybe everything will be all right in the end.

P.S.

No, my window still has not been fixed.

P.P.S.

I went back for the shoes but they were gone. Now some mean bitch is tottering around in my cool shoes!

Day 5 and my window still hasn't been fixed!

Each heavy car that goes by makes it rattle and shake. Just to
clarify, this is the outside glass. I'm hoping the inside one keeps me
safe.

Or maybe their plan was to make me suffer slowly by jumping each time
an ambulance speeds by with their loud, glass shaking sirens?

Enemies? I have MANY stinkin' enemies!

I walked into work Monday morning with the same cheerful attitude I reserve for such special occasions like tooth extractions and Sci-Fi movies. Glynda stopped me right before I walked into my office and told me I  had to use Purple Dino-SOUR's old desk because someone threw a rock through my window and broke the outside glass. I thought she was joking because I'm so freaking adorable so who would want to break my window??

They called the cops and since the perp only targeted one window, MY WINDOW, I was then interviewed by the counties finest. Humorless cop and Norm.

Humorless Cop: Can you think of anyone who would want to cause you harm?

Me: I can think of a lot of people [I wink at Norm who cackles] but I also know they're too lazy to figure out where I work, specifically where I sit and then stop by on a weekend to break my window.

HC: [stare-y frown-y face] What is your occupation?

Me: I work in medical billing.

HC: Any angry patients?

Me: No, not that I know of but I don't handle the patients. I deal with insurance companies AND attorneys, can they be suspects?

HC: [non-blink-y stare] Not if they haven't ever threatened you. Any exes who may have any grudges?

Me: No. I dated my husband for 3ish years and we've been married for 9 years so there wouldn't be any *exes* who would harbor a grudge for 12 years. [to Norm] Unless I have a child an ex didn't tell me about!

Norm: ::pfft pfft hee hee:: ::cough cough::

HC: What about your husband? Are you happily married?

Me: As happy as is normal. [to Norm] Well, he DID say he was going to post on the Internet that he was going to shoot me when the Blackhawks were losing . . . but he doesn't own a gun or know how to post anything on the Internet.

HC: Is that another one of your jokes?

Me: Ehh, no, but thanks for the ego boost. He plays Call of Duty a lot so I think he carries it over into reality.

HC: Do you know if your husband may have any, err, *girlfriends* or any other type of *intimate friend* who may be jealous of you?

Me: If I knew he were cheating on me, you and I would be having a different kind of conversation. Mainly you would be asking me why I hit my husband with a frying pan. [to Norm] And that's the edited version!

HC: [angry mean face] Mrs. C-R, I am not a security officer, I am a police officer. It's not wise to tell me your husband said he was going to shoot you or that you're going to hit your spouse with a pan or anything else. [::gulp!::] So you don't know anyone who would be sending you any type of warnings?

Me: In all seriousness, no. I think it's just a fluke that the vandals broke my window. Hey, can I keep the rock they threw?

HC: [growl-y face] No.

Norm [whispers]: I'll see what I can do.

Me [whisper back]: It's like a trophy!

We giggle as the cop gives us an evil stare.

I know it's a serious situation people! How do I know it's serious? Because they almost broke my coffee cup.

Evil bastards!

These are the cheapest nipples I've ever seen!

So, I have a very serious question.

I needed to kill time before I had to start at ACS so I walked into Marshall's to *just browse*. I don't know if all states have a Marshall's and I know Brian doesn't have one over in Brianland so I'm gonna explain what Marshall's is. Marshall's is a store with supposed brand name clothes/shoes/purses at low prices. I have yet to find a bargain there but I stop in anyway in case it ever happens.

As I was perusing through the shoe aisle (surprised?), I came across a pair of bad ass shoes that  immediately wanted to get on my feet. Who was I stop them? I put them on and headed for a mirror. As I was admiring myself (as I tend to do about every 45 minutes), I had a horrific thought "Am I too old to wear these shoes?"!

 

I mean, the brand name is Dollhouse which implies they are either for young women or strippers and, well, I am thirty with a seven after it which, even though I'm short, isn't as youthful as it sounds and I know for a fact I'm not a stripper... maybe.

I almost talked myself into buying them since they were only $24.99 but sensible, old, non-stripper Bee decided to pose the question to my friends who will be 100% honest with me and tell me if those shoes are inappropriate for a woman of my stature. I mean they are in the sense that they would add to my stature but let's not confuse the matter.

So, yes or no to me going back and getting the shoes?

Also, I hear the Blackhawks won?

I feel like that Asian dude from Gremlins with all the warnings.

So... my brother-in-law Jim has moved in and things are going smoothly so far. Especially because I seemed to have gained an ally for when Andy is being unreasonable which is like 79% of the time.

Since Jim will be home at times when we're not, we had to give him a detailed list of (I don't want to call them instructions because it sounds too bossy so we'll just say they're suggestions) suggestions regarding life at the Beehive. Some are pretty standard:

"Lock the door when you leave"

"Flush the toilet"

"Do not, under any circumstances, eat Andy's snacks!"

Others were more out of concern for his safety:

"DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, EAT ANDY'S SNACKS!!"

"Do not pet Tazz for more than 5 seconds because that is all he allows before he starts eating fingers."

"Do not sit/stand too close to Tazz when he's scratching because he will eventually scratch too hard and then attack the thing nearest to him"

"Do not turn your back on Tazz when you are leaving a room because he loves to use people's calves as chew toys"

"Do not try to save any papers/food/socks/keys/people if Tazz is gnawing on them because he will take you for his replacement."

These are real warnings suggestions! I don't care how cute and innocent he looks.

He'll be licking you and you're all happy because you think it's because he likes but all the while he's trying to figure out if he should eat you with BBQ sauce or hot sauce.

The dog was aptly named after the Tasmanian Devil. The little dude is crazy!

There are more suggestions but we don't want to scare him off too soon. Next week we will discuss my mood swings.if you think Tazz is dangerous, wait till you get a load of me!

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!

Soooooo...

My in-laws sold their home of 33 years and are moving off to the land of cow tipping (no, not Texas). Just kidding, I'm jealous.  As a result, my brother-in-law Jim didn't have a place to stay after his parents sold their house and since he doesn't really feel like moving to the country, Andy made like that inn keeper from the Baby Jesus story and offered him shelter. And so he will be moving into Andy's dungeon tomorrow-slash-today, day of the lord Thursday. While we're at work. When I come home from my 2 jobs, I will be greeted by 2 dogs, 2 fishes and now 2 dudes. I ain't gonna lie to you, it's gonna be weird.

I feel like we just adopted a child and now we're going to have to learn to make some adjustments to our lifestyle. Like arguing in hushed angry tones and turning the TV on extra loud when we are having *fun time*. And by *fun time* I mean playing Monopoly because I hate playing with other people.

I'm a little worried about how he's going to react when he meets my other personalities because they're not all as nice and accommodating as me. Some are downright bitches who get angry at the littlest things like when the shower curtain isn't completely closed or when somebody doesn't save me a chocolate chip cookie after they have eaten the whole bag.

I'm also worried about Andy because he is such a creature of habit, the slightest variation to his day throws him off like a one legged cowboy on a bucking bronco (that ones for you, jean knee) and his first reaction is to lash out to sweet lovable me which forces us to battle like 2 ninjas fighting for a top hat.

This is probably not making any sense because I'm tired so I'll draw you a picture so you can see what my house will look like now:

On the first floor, or in-law unit, we have my mommy. On the main floor we have me (I drew myself taller because I can)(also, my hair hasn't grown much since the last time I cut it which is making me wonder if I should start wearing wigs), Andy, Jim and the dogs (the fish too but I can't draw fish). On the top floor, which is a converted attic, we have Rick, Maria THE VEGETERIAN and baby Sophia.

Andy will no longer have a dungeon to retreat to and even though I'm working most nights, it's gonna be an adjustment for me to have him so close to my favorite TV watching chair. You know what they say about people in loving relationships, the way to stay happy is to stay away from each other as much as possible. Or something like that.

Pray for us people!