Randumbness

So... while kids were out looking for treats this Halloween, I was finding my own treats hidden in my pots.

The squirrels are going to be so pissed when they go digging for their winter snacks and oops! All gone!

What? You gonna cry for the squirrels now?

There is no mercy in this DOJO!

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I had a doctor's appointment early on Saturday. For those of you keeping score, that's like the 100th appointment this year. She's still trying to iron out my kinks. I think it took Dr. Frankenstein less time to create his monster. Anyway, she was checking this and that when she asked me how I cleaned my ears. The question shouldn't have shocked me I guess but it did. I am very meticulous about my pre-check-up preparations so I thought maybe she wanted to get some tips from me?

Me: Well, I take the Q-tip and put it in my ear... I only use Q-Tip brand Q-tips though because the other ones are too flimsy-

Doc: No! Don't use Q-Tips. All they do is push the wax in deeper. You need to use drops!

Me: What are you saying?? [puts hands over ears]

Doc: Don't worry. I see this all he time. I'll write down the name of the drops for you-

And then she was distracted by a wailing kid who just had its ears pierced so she didn't write the name down for me. No, my doctor doesn't practice out of a Claire's.

I've been alive for almost 37 years and I've just learned I've been cleaning my ears wrong! If anybody knows what kind of drops I'm supposed to be using please let me know. I can barely hear over here!

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I dyed my hair today. I went with Black but not because I'm having an identity crisis and am going for the goth look. I just like black hair. Unfortunately, the dye left what looks like a 5 o'clock shadow on both sides of my face giving me the appearance of sideburns. I'm gonna have to own them so that I don't look like an ass when I go in to work tomorrow.

 

"Thank you! Thank you verrry much!"

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I'd like to thank everybody who entered to win Mercury Falls. I was unable to read the book yet therefore have not sent Diesel aka Robert Kroese my interview questions so I'll hopefully announce the winner on Friday at the bottom of my interview. Way at the bottom. This will force you to read the whole interview and not just pop in, see if you won or not and then go have pizza.

Do you remember when you were a little kid and you promised yourself that when you grew up you'd eat candy all the time because you wouldn't have a mean old parent telling you not to?? Well! My tummy is all achey now from all the left over candy. Now I'm sad and wish I could beat up 11 year old stupid me.

The end.

Fatty Fatty Bo Batty- Goodbye My Chubbos!

Okay so I have some news.

In the next few months I will be on a quest to lose the flab that sits  next to me on trains, planes, cars, bars, chairs, bears uh everywhere?

Yes, I know I've said it a few hundred times before but this time it's serious because there's MONEY involved!

My brothers Sergio and Dan along with my sister Nancy, Andy and I are participating in a friendly wager to see who can lose the biggest amount of human grease (would you like some bacon with your breakfast?) in 6 months.

The winner (ME) will walk away with 400 American dollars. That's almost enough to buy a small country!

I know you're used to me being meaty and jolly and now you're selfishly thinking I'll change and I'll become bitter (when I tried to type *bitter* it came out as - bUtter-which makes sense because I'd love me a stick of butter covered  in sugar right about now! ... kidding... maybe) and humorless because I will always be hungry but you really have to stop thinking of yourselves! Besides, I don't think my sense of humor will disappear with my body fat. It might even help with honing it because it may help my delusions become clearer. Maybe Ill be more focused. Isn't that how Ghandi was able to achieve inner peace?

My goal is to lose 30 pounds in 6 months (hopefully not all in my boobs) and with my winnings buy a new wardrobe. I know you think 400 smackers may not get me far but, since I'll be a starving waif consisting of just decaying bones, all the clothes I'm going to buy will be from my former slutty clothes supplier, Rave. Their motto is "If people can't see the color of your underwear, you didn't buy your clothes here." ::sigh:: Rave, how I miss you!

Anyway, this is one contest where I can't cheat. Well maybe I can. You see, Andy and I may have gone a little overboard in the over stuffing ourselves before the official weigh in at 11ish AM on Sunday morning. We will have breakfast, drink a lot of liquids and not go to the bathroom until after we are weighed.

Andy, the string bean, is taking this very seriously (he downloaded and Ap for his iPhone that tells him exactly how many calories are going into my mouth)(that's what she said!)(are we done doing that?) so he decided to bake a cake as a goodbye to all pastries.

(my contribution were the nuts)

So yeah, in 6 months I may be so skinny, they'll think I gave birth... to myself only a thinner version. Does that make any sense or am I just sleepy?

P.S.

I went to my hairdresser, Freddy- El Monta Hombres (that's what he calls himself)(that means he mounts men), today and he asked "how do you want it" and I stopped and thought about it in horror for a minute but then I realized he meant my hair so I said "Do whatever you want" and that obviously means "please remove all of my hair from my head" because I am now sporting  what he called a "a hair cut all yuppie women are getting and you look white so it'll fit your face" the jury is still out and I just realized I now have no protection for my neck when winter hits. That makes me a little sad but mostly cold.

(It's all gone! ::whimper::)(That's my chin, not my nose. Andy was like "wow, you're nose looks huge in this picture!" and after he regained consciousness, I let him know I'd clear it up for everybody so that they wouldn't make the same mistake)(also, we were at the food court in a mall after we decided to have a romantic day of getting haircuts for Andy, Tazz and myself then taking my car for emissions testing and stopping for a walk down memory lane at a mall we used to walk through everyday after work.)(eat your heart out Michael Buble!)

 

Maybe I'll just have to rock this look:

Nah. It looks like my head is hibernating. 

 

Now I go sleepy.

So hey! I'm still here!

Just wanted to say real quick that I'm trying to recover from the rage of the Olympic committee being such butt munchers and tossing my Chicago out like a used snot rag! I will now boycott all Olypic events until the day my mind forgets what the Olymipcs are.

I will not watch a single event which is pretty much what I do every Olympic year but that's neither here nor there.

Jokes on the because I didn't want all those people eating all my pizza anyway.

I'll be back later Monday with a "real" post.

P.S.
Zombieland rocks ass! "it's time to nut up or shut up" is now my most favorite phrase in the whole world!
Okay I may have had too much OJ and vodka with my Danish butter cookies. Then I ran out of OJ.

My reign of terror at the Laundromat? It comes to an end!! (Shoots off confetti at the audience!)(Hopes nobody gets it in the eye)(except maybe YOU right there!)

This past Saturday morning, Andy and I woke up extremely early SIX-THIRTY! He got up and put on his big boy pants so he may take the dogs out, go move our cars and open the back gate while I decided to stay in bed and send my support from there. With my eyes closed. And hugging my teddy bear.

I was all snuggly when I heard my car alarm go off. I jumped out of bed, because I know how over reactive my man can be, and ran to the front door. Meanwhile Andy ran the length of our long driveway and came into the house through the back door, which doesn't make sense because my car was parked in the front but whatever, yelling "BEE! WHERE IS YOUR KEY FOB???" (as my car alarm was going nuts waiting to be shut off) (as he was holding my car keys with my, ehm, KEY FOB that shuts off my car alarm). So I say "you are holding it" in English because that is the only language he understands and he bellows "NO I'M NOT! WHERE IS YOUR KEY FOOOOOOB??" so I take this thing that he's holding that he claims is NOT my key fob, walk to the front door, push the button on this imposter key fob and miraculously shut off my car alarm.

I slowly turn to look at him and he's just standing there, seething. Then he walks into the bedroom and I look at the time. 6:45 which triggers the rage within me. When he came out of the bedroom I let him have it boys and girls. I can't even remember what I said but I'm sure it was mean (because my voice was all snarly) and I ended it with "so you better apologize"

And he did.

I don't recall the last time Andy said 'I'm sorry'. Wait, I do. It was that one time he accidentally elbowed me in the head while he was sleeping. But that one shouldn't count because I smacked him on the stomach to wake him up and told him what he had done and he opened one eye and said 'oh sawrry' ::snore:: I'm sure that in the rule book (The Marriage Rule Book) there is an entry that clearly states that half conscious apologies are invalid in the states of Illinois, Wisconsin, California, Hawaii and maybe Alaska.

Anyway, the reason we were up so early and moving the cars around was because we needed to make room for the delivery truck that was dropping off our BRAND SPANKIN NEW WASHER!!

The delivery dudes (or "happy marriage makers" as I call them) arrived at 7:01 and, after they installed it and hauled away the old washer, were gone by 7:15.

I was so happy, I was doing dance moves I haven't been able to do since the late 80s.

I have to thank my mother and father-in-law (or "fairy godparents of smiling, happy couples" as I like to call them) for their awesome gift. They took pity on the people I have to interact with at the Laundromat and decided to intervene on their behalf. They knew I was down to my last nerve and the chains holding me back from doing serious damage to people hogging all the carts, dryers, tables, wouldn't keep me back for much longer.

Thank you Mom and Pop R.!

Here is a picture of my beautiful new washer. See how it spins for me??

Here is a picture of it standing nobly next to my dryer (which will hopefully be replaced in March).

My heart sings for you, my beautiful washer!

Later that morning, Andy cleaned out the garage (with some help from me) (but it was mostly me standing around saying stuff like "ewww! Look at all the spider eggs!" and Andy correcting me by saying "They're spider SACKS, Bee" and me saying "look, they can be spider eggs, sacks or balls for all I care because they are still EWWW!" and then him telling me to get out of the garage because he didn't need me jumping around every time I thought something was crawling on me and knocking over his elaborate balancing crap-o-stuff.).

After the flood of 2008, we stored a bunch of stuff in the garage. Materials, tools, stuff I bought on ebay which years later has me wondering what kind of drugs I was on (must have been good ones):

I know I just became cooler in your eyes.

When I opened the box, I was stunned. Was I thinking about changing careers and trying to break into the clown industry? Holy crap!

To answer your unspoken question, no, I never wore them. Just opening the box now makes me want to disinfect my body. And to some extent, my mind.

We took a break in the middle of the day to have lunch at Costco. I know I've said I don't eat any of the samples because I'm afraid of contracting small pox, eating more than my daily recommended intake of other people's skin flakes AKA dust and being pressured into buying 80 lbs of crab salad (and I don't even like crabs, edible or otherwise) but my mom came with us and hit every sample table from the front to the back of the store.

She'd walk away with portions for herself, Andy and I. By the end of our stay, we had to be rolled out of there. The freakin place was packed but now I know why people go there at around 1 o'clock. Why pay $8 per person at Corner Bakery when you can eat for free?

After we were able to tear my mesmerized mother away from the Costco blender demonstrator (who thinks he's so cool because he has a Madonna microphone) (but I'm not impressed unless he sings Lucky Star and shines one me wherever I are), we made our way home and lived happily every after.

Well, until the free booze wore off.

So… did you guys know Michael Jackson died?

I’m sure there are a million and one websites reporting, mocking, mourning him and I really hate jumping on bandwagons but in this case, I’d like to share my memories of the King of Pop. I know most people are tired of all the coverage and I've seen some comments about people wondering why his death is getting so much attention. To them I have to say, the man's career spanned decades. If you're surprised the media is going bananas we obviously haven't been living on the same planet.

I wasn't around when Elvis died... wait. Was I? Hold on. Wiki says he died in 1977 so I was about 4ish almost 5 so I don't remember if there was a pilgrimage to Graceland but I'm sure he had about the same amount of coverage as MJ. Well, it was 1977 so people had to settle for news via the pony express. Maybe I should warn you now that when Madonna goes to the big whorehouse in the sky we will be talking about it for weeks. Prepare yourselves, m'mkay?

Anyway.

Like a typical preteen, I had my crushes on famous people or fictional characters. You know, Luke Skywalker, Templeton Peck AKA Face, Bugs Bunny but my first real crush was on Michael Jackson.

My family never had much money. We lived in a 2 bedroom apartment and only had what was necessary and sometimes even less but, every once in a while, my mom would use some of the money she had squirreled away so she could buy us a special treat. In my case, it was my very first cassette tape.

I loved every single song on that tape. My love of MJ infected my little brother, Rick, who was only 2 at the time but he learned every song and imitated his dance moves better than Alfonso Riberio himself (Carlton for us Fresh Prince fans). Little guy could moon walk and Ahh-hee-hee! with the best of ‘em!

I remember when the video for Thriller was set to debut. I put in all necessary requisition forms to have the one TV we owned to myself that night. I sat Rick on my lap and we waited for our idol to take the stage. Rick sat quietly while the video was on and as soon as it was over, I went to put him down but he turned around and wrapped his arms around me, terrified. Awww so cute! Okay, in hindsight, it probably wasn’t a good idea to let a 2 year old watch a video about zombies or werewolves or monsters but I was 12 so give me a break!

I wasn’t one of those kids who collected every little thing that had MJs picture on it but only because we were broke. I did, however, have 2 giant posters and a couple of flea market t-shirts that were worn to the point of being threadbare. Oh! I also had a white vinyl jacket that resembled the one he wore in the Thriller video. Don't ask me why I didn't get a red one. Maybe they only had that color at the flea market. Maybe my mom thought white was better to sweat in in the hot California sun? Another mystery of the universe.

I have this one clear memory of being in my friend Nurselizy’s room* while PYT played and both of us singing at the top of our lungs.

♪♫ I want to love you! PYT! pretty young thing! ♪♫

Of course now people will read more into those lyrics than our innocent minds could have predicted.

As my life changed and music changed and Madonna hit the scene (Shout out to Angel Darling with Borderline!), my MJ tape didn’t get much play but to this day, I hear Beat It, Billy Jean and, going back some, Rock with you and I can’t help but sing along. I still remember all the words to the spoken part of Thriller and often imitate the laugh at the end when I want to scare the dogs. Strangely, they don’t seem to care.

I admit to judging him and ridiculing some of his decisions, ummm once your nose starts looking life a pimple maybe you want to stop with the surgeries, but as Rick and I were talking about him yesterday, I realized I felt pity for him too. I'm not one of those weirdos who was standing outside his home and swaying with my eyes closed because I didn't really know the dude and even if I had, I'm really not much of a swayer but I enjoyed going down memory lane to a more innocent time in my life.

All the Michael talk got my niece Natalia (6) wondering who the heck this Michael Jackson was so she decided to listen to the songs that were being played on TV (she scolded my mom when she wanted to change the channel so she may watch her novelas). Her favorite one so far? Jellybean. Yup. Jellybean or as we know it, Billy Jean.

When I came home from work, she had a special drawing she made of Mr. Jackson himself:

Out of the mouths of babes. (out of the mouth of babes?)

*(I also remember us singing to “Up Side Down” by Diana Ross ♪♫ Up Side Down! boy you turn me, inside out and round n’ round♪♫ )(those were the jams!)

♪♫ Saturday in the park... think it was the fist of a fly. ♪♫

Despite all the sore bones and blisters (Sore Bones & Blisters would make an awesome band name), we had a great time on Saturday. We hosted the whole family for a thank you extravaganza and had some yummy food prepared by yours truly. Everything went smoothly until the end where I accidentally knocked over the guacamole dish, NO, I WAS NOT DRUNK, and then all hell broke loose.

Tazz, knowing my mom makes the best guacamole in the world, ran to claim his share. We tried to stop him because of the pesky glass that could rip his stomach open and he was not pleased. His goal then became to take a piece out of every living person around him and he lived up to his Lhasa Apso Tibetan ancestry. A vicious Tazz is a scary and formidable sight. And he will live to be about 140. That's uh hold on, let me get a calculator... ... ... 20 in human years. I also discovered that he may suffer from macular degeneration in the near future and if you’re thinking this will give us the perfect opportunity to escape his attacks, you would be wrong since they do not rely on their eyesight to attack things which piss them off. Mostly Andy.

After everybody had left, Andy and I decided to go see The Hangover (<--preview) for its last showing of the evening. As most of you may know, Andy and I usually hit the movies on Sundays at predawn so we may take advantage of the cheapest priced tickets and also the lack of obnoxious teenagers and howly kids. The theater will usually only have about 10 people including us and that’s how we like it but we figured that if we went Saturday night, we would have most of Sunday to just sit around and get moldy.

We got into the car in the cover of darkness, said a little prayer and left the safety of our driveway. Shivering.

Once at the theater, we bought our tickets and nachos with no unusual incidents other than this geeky guy walking around with an orange backpack and neon blue shoes. What the hell kind of combination is that? There were only a handful of people in the theater so I thought it would be a nice, harmless experience. The feeling didn’t last though because people kept walking in, including Mr. Orange Backpack Neon Blue Shoes, and sitting close enough where I could smell what they had for dinner.

About 10 minutes into the movie, two men were having a discussion about how best to handle a phone call.

One guy said “Hang up the phone asshole or I’m gonna go over and hang it up for you!”

I thought that was reasonable.

Douchebag:
I’m on a call!

Hero:
You have 30 seconds to hang up the fucking phone!

Douchebag:
30 seconds? Cool. That should be enough time to finish my call [to person on the phone] So anyway—

Hero:
HANG UP THE PHONE OR I’ll TAKE YOU OUTSIDE!

Douchebag:
Take me outside? Are we in a movie? Pfft! He's gonna take me outside!

Hero [stood up and went to sit next to El Douche]:
You gonna keep talking?

Douchebag:
This is harassment!

And in what can only be called a beautiful display of unity, (almost) EVERYONE IN THE THEATER:
Both of you SHUT THE FUCK UP!

They both left.

I made sure I had my running shoes on in case I needed to haul ass out of there. Although, I had just had a Mike’s Hard Lemonade so maybe I would have stayed and rumbled.

When we were leaving the movie theater, there was a 70 year old couple exiting the aisle. The man was laughing but the woman was admonishing him for doing so.

Old lady:
Why are you laughing? That was the stupidest movie I have ever seen!

Old dude:
No. It was very amusing.

Old lady:
What is wrong with you??

And as soon as we were out of earshot Andy and I started laughing because we knew exactly what scenes had offended her. I’m not telling you what they are since it would ruin the movie's shockingness. All in all, we still think that old couple is pretty cool for venturing out at that late hour without being afraid of the night crawlies.

Going to a late movie was a nice adventure but I don't thing we'll be repeating that experience any time soon.

Oh yeah, there was one heartbreaking moment on Saturday. I found my first grey hair. Wait. Did you hear me? I, Bee Still-young-person, have discovered a horrific silver hair amongst my beautiful multicolored (because I have way too many different shades of brown, some black and even ORANGE) locks.

This whole getting old thing is unacceptable.

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.

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!)

A story in which we mourn a crocodile, a cat and my father-in-laws pride. Just kidding Pop R.

So obviously there's no comic strip today. My Andy has been really busy this week. Yes, he was on a forced vacation and had a WHOLE WEEK he could have worked on it but he had to do other things like golf and go eat crocodile sausage. I know, I know. I'm disappointed too. Even more so because he's been burping up that croc sausage the past few days. Well, I must admit he was also working on my mom's floor but that's neither here nor there.

Anyway, the guys (and my father-in-law) came over Saturday to put up drywall so it's beginning to look like her place again.

before

now

You can't see my hand anymore woohoo!

For this momentous project we rented a ginormous dumpster. Taking advantage of having a huge receptacle for things that no longer belong in my house, I told Andy to get rid of the hundreds of empty boxes he's kept just in case his Xbox/Rock Band/Guitar Hero/TV/Printer/ETC break. Because he didn't want me to nag and wanted to get to his croc sausage eating, he threw out all the boxes.

Saturday morning, I was walking my mother-in-law to her car after she dropped off my father-in-law when I noticed the Rock Band box sitting on my neighbor Boomhauer's driveway.

I told my mother-in-law that I thought it was weird and she said it might have flown out of the dumpster and since I didn't want Boomhauer to think we were litter bugs, I went to pick it up so I may return it to its new home. I innocently lifted one of the flaps and immediately jumped 10 feet in the air and shrieked like an 11 year old girl! Why? BECAUSE THERE WAS A DEAD CAT IN IT!

Okay calm down. I'm okay now but holy Moses! Way to wake the hell up on a Saturday morn! I immediately went to Andy, the croc sausage eater, and told him to open the box and confirm there was something dead in there and it wasn't my imagination. He wouldn't do it of course even after his mom and I taunted him about how I, A GIRL, saw it and survived but he didn't care. He later found out Boomhauer's wife had seen a cat lying in the street so she asked him to pick up the poor cat. He went into the dumpster grabbed the Rock Band box, scooped it up (I'm sure he also said a prayer or maybe cursed his wife) and then left it on his driveway for next Halloween. He says he didn't know what to do with it but I think it may have served its purpose. TO KEEP ME OFF HIS DRIVEWAY.

Also, I saw a mouse scampering about on the outside walls of my house. Again, I yelled for my Andy, not in fear okay? I know I just told you I shrieked like a little girl when I opened the box but that's because it was unexpected. Mice don't scare me because I eat spiders. So my father-in-law and Andy come out to investigate and there is the poor cute little mouse looking at us with its big eyes and I say "Kill it!" and Andy walks away. See, I think he thought it looked too much like Mocha, his favorite, so he couldn't do it. My father-in-law on the other hand tried slamming a brick on it but it scampered near the roof so he went and got a big board from the dumpster (it seems the dumpster is serving as a place to get coffins and weapons) and tried to squish it but the damn thing flew! I'm not kidding! It flew at him and then landed on the ground where my father-in-law proceeded to look like a Tom and Jerry cartoon in trying to kill it. He stabbed at the ground with the board and tripped and then stabbed at the firewood but the rat bastard got away and went back into Wilson's yard also known as HIS DUMPSTER.

I know what you're thinking, all the exciting shit happens to me.

What's in the box scene from Seven done with puppets. hilarious.

Why I can't be left unsupervised.

So... Andy had to work on Saturday. He got up early, put Mocha the chunk on the bed, reminded me to go to the bank, kissed me good-bye and left.

I woke up at 9:00 a.m. STARVING, realized I would have to cook something so I went back to sleep instead. I woke up an hour later and said to self "Get your ass out of bed, go to the bank and then stop at Mickey Dee's for some breakfast and coffee" but I just couldn't make myself get out of bed so I watched some TV until the dogs started whining that they had to go outside or eat who knows really, they're always so damn needy.

I finally got around to going to the bank (it was 40 degrees but I walked out in flip flops, shorts and a t-shirt).

I hate going to the bank. The old ladies always give me a hard time about something and Saturday was no different. They were upset because I had signed my check with my *maiden* name and not the name of my husband. Seriously, that's what they said.

"This your maiden name! You need husband's name!"

I tried telling the little old Asian lady and the little old Polish lady that my name is hyphenated and I go by both but you know what? Sometimes it's just easier to pretend I belong to a man and sign it with my owner's name.

Since McDonald's is right across the street from the bank, I maneuvered my car through their drive thru (me and drive thrus do not get along! I can never get my car to contort itself in order to go through that fuckin maze! To add insult to injury, I always park too far from the windows!) but since it was too late for breakfast, because my lazy ass couldn't get out of bed before 11, I decide to just get a LARGE coffee. Here's where things get tricky.

Bee:

Large coffee please.

Ronald:

What kind of coffee?

Bee:

What? Large, regular I guess?

Ronald:

Would you like to try our new Mochas?

Bee:

Uh, okay. Large please.

Ronald:

Fat or Non-Fat?

Bee:

I don't believe in non-fat so... fat?

Ronald:

Anything else?

Bee: [When I'm in the passenger seat, I have the power to say "nothing else, thanks" but...]

A number 6, please.

I blame the fact that I was hungry on me ordering FOOD from McDonald's because I have a few rules I live by. No soda, fries, potato chips or candy before noon. AND! No McDonald's unless it's breakfast. Too many food poisoning incidents in the past.

When I pulled up to pay, I had the biggest shock of the day! My bill was $8.87- EIGHT DOLLARS AND EIGHTY-SEVEN CENTS! FOR FOOD. FOR ONE PERSON. AT MCDONALD'S!

If you're getting the impression that I'm cheap, I am when it comes to food. Especially crappy food because I only ate the fries and (drank) the coffee.

 

Oh well, only about 70 more days before my mom comes home.

Things I learned this weekend:

It's not shiving it's shanking.

Andy would rather watch Jack Frost [CREEPY!] than either of the two Godfathers because he doesn't like me quoting the movies for 3 days. "No! Then you go around saying 'mahnday tursday, it's business not personal, you broke my heart Fredo!, don't ask me about my business', not to mention using piano wire to try to kill me!"

Cher's character is 37 in Moonstruck but she looks AT LEAST 10 years older than I do.

I learned I can go almost the whole weekend without turning on my laptop and not have any type of seizures.

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Technorati Tags: weekend,me,andy,godfather

Dog bites man. Man cries because he's stupid. Dog laughs and swallows man's finger.

So yeah, I heard that the white house pooch bit a reporter. It was the first thing I saw when I turned on the TV and my laptop (well, the first thing I saw on my laptop was the picture I have of a half nahked Brad Pitt but you don't need to know that).

I say that fucktard of a reporter deserved it and his reporter license thingy should be revoked!

Hello?

Is it a good idea to pet a dog who has never met you??

No.

Just think about it. Would you go up to a person you've never met and give them a hug? [please say no- please say no- because if you say yes, we might not be able to be friends anymore]

I then went looking for the video and found the one below that shows exactly what the dog was thinking! Stupid reporter dude, if a dog with a Scottish accent tells you to leave him alone- LISTEN!




P.S.

My mom's plane left at 8:40 pm and I'm already wasting away to nothingness. (If nothingness means hoarding bacon like there's no tomorrow)

P.P.S.

The Wizard of Oz, the movie The Wizard of Oz, is lame. I said once that I wanted to find the producers of the new Willy Wonka movie and feed them to my beta fish for a slow death but I think I'll just hold off and see if they re-do The Wizard of Oz. Everybody involved in the old one is probably dead already.

P.P.S.
Diesel? Are you calling me out dude? What is wrong with my Karate Chicken?? It kicks ass! The poor thing was mangled for my amusement! May it rest in peace.

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Unlike Samson, cutting my hair makes me stronger, smarter, faster... colder.

*Other title for this post that was discarded due to a disagreement as to what it would actually mean was "The antonym for Samson is Bee. "

So... I went to get my haircut Saturday morning.Since Charlize Theron's hairdo won by 43% and was also given a big thumbs up by my 5 year old niece, I packed up my magazine, water, cellphone and Kleenex (in case I cried) and headed on over to my stylist guy.

I've said before how the place I go to isn't a fancy salon. It's usually me and about 20 guys, which would be a nice fantasy but I think the majority of the characters there are of the dangerous variety.

Even so, I go there because A) I'm not afraid of anybody B) My hairstylist, Freddy, does an awesome job and C) If I stopped going he would hunt me down, shave my head and then slice and dice my scalp. (I know I just said I'm not afraid of anybody but Freddy is not just anybody! He has sharp scissors that are usually inches from my carotid artery and my eyeballs)

Anyway, I arrived and Freddy was styling some chicks hair with a blow dryer. When I told him what I was going to do with my hair, he shut the dryer off and asked "Que tu estas loca m'ija??"
Which is the same exact thing the other stylist guy said to me earlier this year when I told him I wanted blood red streaks.

I showed Freddy the picture of Charliez, he said okay.
A few minutes later, he showed me a picture of some random chick and asked what I thought. I said "oh, that looks pretty" but I didn't think twice about it after that.

I think some of you might already know what's coming. Even though I was giving him specific instructions on how I wanted my hair throughout the whole process, he did what he usually does. He did whatever the fuck he wanted!

This could have turned into a tragic story ladies and gents but it just so happened I loved the style, Freddy the Omnipotent, gave me.

So, in one year I've gone from:

To:

And:


To the most recent and final:

No more pony tails for me, they are definitely more like pig tails.

I've had long hair for years so it took a hefty dose of balls to say "Cut it all".

Even knowing my hair grows fast, I still felt a little faint when the scissors made their little kweek noise after he removed the first few inches. Then.... the experience became cathartic (and not in the icky, emptying of bowels sort of way, well maybe a little).

I don't know what it is about a great haircut that makes us feel like we have the power to remove obstacles from our path or crush those that are stupid enough to not move on their own.

I had a blow out fuckin fight with OZ (my boss, the orthopaedic surgeon) and I basically told him, TO HIS FACE, that I wasn't going to take his shit any more.

And I did that before the haircut so I'm thinking that we're in for some fun shit now that I've discovered the power of invincibility.

One of my favorite exchanges from my Friday meeting with OZ:

OZ:
Wow! Is this how you are with the attorneys? I'm glad you're on my side!

SICK OF ALL THE BULLSHIT BEE:
Beware because I'm not always on your side.

BURN ASSHOLE BURN!

The look on his face was priceless and I wish I had my trusty Scarlett to snap a picture for future bulls-eye and dartboard backgrounds.

Right after my venom exploded all over his shirt, we continued our meeting the way it should always be.

He listened when I spoke, didn't interrupt me and just sat there with his tail between his legs.
I still say he looks like Phillip Seymour Hoffman so here is what he kind of looked like:

ΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘ
Moving on, the winner of my Pass It Forward thingie is..........

I promise you I didn't cheat, you might not believe me but the name Andy pulled was.......

TRACY'S!!

I debated whether Andy should pick another name but then I thought "Hey! I'm the boss of me!"

So Tracy, I already have your address so I will be sending you a little something something later in the week.

P.S.
If you're thinking I should fire my hairstylist because he always does whatever the fuck he wants, I was thinking the same thing too. I might have to go into witness protection though so please look for my blog under the new name of "Mee's Busings".

P.P.S.
As I type this, my in-laws and Andy are watching the sucky Bears play what some call football but I call torture to the eyes, ears, nose and VAGINA!

The current score is Lions: 23 Bears: 20

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The De-evolution of my dancing...

I've been told that when I was a wee little Bee, I would run with my legs straight without bending my knees.

Yeah. Everyone, who is at least 10 years older than me, loves LOVES telling me about my weird robot running. Ha ha! What a freakin' riot it was to see me chasing butterflies! Don't worry, that was my only defect, in every other way I was (AM) perfect.

Then I grew up and had to do track, jump hurdles, pole vaults and other body torturing exercises in school so I learned to bend my knees and became a part of the agile, rhythmically blessed population.

My newly learned knee bendiness came in handy in my teen years because I come from a Festive Mexican family who loves parties. What's a party without music? Why have music if not to dance?

So I learned to groove with the best of them. My hips would move like this and that. My feet moved my legs and my upper body followed the rhythm. All appropriate body parts were always in sync.

This skill came in handy in my 20s when I was hitting the clubs scene. Ahh so many memories, so much fun.

As I'm aging, I've noticed that my groove (but not the Stella groove) has either been replaced with Ed Grimley's or it was just killed and buried in an avocado orchard.

Now I find myself dancing, only when I'm alone, to my old-school (as in 90s jams) music and looking like I'm trying to crush and/or kick invisible insects.

I know I can still find the rhythm because I tap my foot at all the right places. I do a mean upper body jam while sitting on a chair but if I get up and try to move all my limbs at once in time to the music? DEH! FAIL!

I need to know what happened, did someone substitute my bone marrow by injecting concrete?? Is it something I can fix? Maybe I can have a Elainebenisdectomy?

Do you know how sad this makes me? I go to parties, such as the one I attended this past Saturday where my brothers nearly broke their backs by break-dancing (by the way, the peer pressure to have me drunk was unbelievable! I just love how the family will unite for one goal and then mercilessly taunt me by saying "if you don't have a drink, you're old!" for crapsake people! it's like we're living in the 90s again and you are my booze buddies!)(I'm also happy to report that, due to my Mojito training of this past summer, I DID NOT GET HALF AS DRUNK AS THE LIL BROTHERS! HA! In your faces!), and see the young 'uns tearing it up, I die a little inside.

I've been living with this secret for a few years now. While I'm glad I got this off my chest, I hope you will be compassionate enough not to mock me.

P.S.

While removing the potting soil from my terracotta pots so that I may store them for the winter, I came across many little nuts like these.

The damn squirrels have been ruining my plants the whole season to store their little winter stash. They've destroyed many beautiful flowers and my pepper plants MY PEPPER PLANTS the little habaneros and jalapeños did not even have a chance to burn anyone's butt on their way out!

When I was putting all the nuts in a container, my beloved husband said "You do realize they're counting on those nuts, right? If you take them, some may not make it through the winter."

My response? Payback, she is a bitch, no??

What? I never said I was nice!!

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Oh the trials and tribulations of having to do stuff!

I'm sorry if I wasn't around this weekend to visit your blogs but I was doing this:
this:

this:
And arguing with Andy about how to close a bag of chips. He thinks it should be like this:
Hello Mr. Stale icky chips!!!
.
Anyway, I'll be back to bore you guys later!

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Behold! My Saturday. [I wonder if I can find an exciting life on Craig's List.]

Okay, so yeah. My lame Saturday as per my promise to participate in Mrs. G's, from Derfwad Manor, play by play chronicling.

I forgot to charge the batteries in my camera so all the photo-chronicling is done via Scarlett.

I know I'm always bragging about how exciting and awesome my life is and you guys are always jealous and want to be me so this might disappoint you a little.

6-ish:
At the butt crack of dawn, the dogs must go out and do their thing! Bastards!


While waiting for the dogs to finish up whatever it is dogs doo-doo, I went and congratulated my friend Brian for his Blogaversary. One whole year!
He did a day in the life of too. His was very well written and puts mine to shame TO SHAME I tell you!



After the dogs came inside, I went back to bed.

8:40:
We heard the doorbell and jumped out of bed. It was my Father-In-Law Jahnnie. He came to help Andy with the demolition of the laundry room.

He kept wondering why the hell we were still in bed. Well pops, none of your beezwax! ;op


8:50
Then I held one of our stools while Andy did the electrical thing he does where he fixes lights by magic. Well, that is to say, ONE light since the kitchen is the only place where I have good lighting.



9:00 AM
I finally had my coffee! Damn! I don't know how people expect me to function without it! My mom was there too but she said I'd have to give her money to post her picture. I'm cheap.



10:00 AM
Yawned, did some contemplating "I wonder who would win if a spider fought one of those giant mosquitoes. My money is on the spider. Okay a spider against a scorpion. The scorpion would shred the spider to pieces. Stupid spiders! Should I cut my hair next weekend? I wonder if I'll be brave enough to cut it short? ..."



11:00
Did some gardening. Whereas I contemplated genetically enhancing the stupid spiders so they could kill the squirrels that are digging up my garden.



12:00PM
Took a shower. If you are picturing me naked, you are only harming yourself.



12:30PM
Ordered pizza and had this convo:

Bee:
Do you guys deliver to my house? ... But we're really close! ... It will take you about 10 minutes. ... Fine! I'll go pick it up!



1:00 PM
Went to pick up my very delicious pizza that is totally worth breaking my *no driving on the weekend* rules. I figured I should go since Andy was pulling out moldy drywall.


The hat and I came back exactly 10 minutes later. Dumbasses!!

1:13
We had our lunch.

2:00PM
Since my man was working so hard, I decided to be productive and reorganize my closet AGAIN.



2:07PM
Got bored and went to read my Glam Mag.


2:08 PM
Became very confused when I noticed how blurry it was! Thought to self "WTF! I pay good money for this Jane wanna be and they give me blurriness??"



2:08 and some seconds PM
Turned the page and found out they were 3D pages! Scoffed! Give me a break Shark Jumpers! 3D?? What am I? FIVE??

2:08 and some more seconds PM
Decided that from now on, I want to read everything only in 3D.

2:30-3ish (lost track of time)
Blogged stalked.


3-ishPM
Andy made me go with him to the supermarket. ::sigh::
On the way there, I bent iron and concrete-like things.



3:45PM
Waited for Andy to buy cheese or whatever you get in a deli.


Andy is the one in red.

3:46PM
Saw a football shaped sausage. Laughed.



4:30PM
Put groceries away. Sorry, as exciting as it was, I forgot to take a picture.

4:45PM
Finished organizing my closet so that I may...

5:30PM
... Nap.



7:30 PM
Woke up, thought it was Monday and I was running late again! Realized it was still Saturday, did a victory dance, reheated pizza. Ate it.



9:00PM
Ordered Sex in the City.

I know I know, I suck. I was bored and couldn't decide what movie to watch. I wasn't a fan of the show so don't get mad when I say it was just okay.
SJP is not one of my favorite people and her face makes me want to become a lobbyist and bribe congress so they may pass a law that ugly people should wear masks.
I'll never understand how she became a star.

Wow. That sounded really mean. And now you're thinking I hate ugly people because I went on a rant about Paul Giamatti. No, I don't hate ugly people. I'm sure they're nice.

11:59PM
Bee go sleepy night night.

§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔§↔

I JUST REALIZED! I didn't go poopsie the whole day (jean knee!)! That's because ladies don't do dirty things like that.

I hope you enjoyed the look into my lame-o life. Now you know why I blog.

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