OK, I Promise

If you just let me find my truck payment book that has been missing for two months, I promise to be nice AND eat my vegetables for a week.

Well, at the very least I'll hold the door open for someone.

***UPDATE***

I found it. Somewhere I have looked at least three dozen times. But not before cleaning out my truck and half of my paper stash. I think it's God's way of telling me I need to be a neater and nicer person. Umm.. Good luck on that. But, thanks for looking out!

Random Obsession

Some people collect stamps, some people collect cats, some people even store food for winter, me? I stockpile ink cartridges for my photo printer. At least I used to. I loss interest before I used them all.

It's Not Me, It's the Rest of the World

So my new mouse came -- a week ago. Tonight I finally got up enough energy to clean off my desk to have a place to put it. I hate the new keyboard. The keys feel funny and they have a different font on them. But anyways, not the point.

I'm also tired of getting nagged about my irrational paper obsession. It's not that I like to save everything, it's just that I don't want to deal with it. So I lay it aside. Now my bills get paid - usually - but everything else? Well, let's put it this way, I have unopened mail from at least 6 months ago laying on my desk. I have even stopped all legitimate mail from coming to me, opting instead for online statements that I can ignore. They sit, unopened, in my inbox. The junk mail monster? Well it's not that I have a problem throwing it away. It's just that it is much easier to throw it on the table and hope it disappears. It's the same with the letters from the teachers. I almost missed conferences this time around because I never filled out the paper. My paycheck? Well, it's direct deposit, but I have no idea what I'm getting paid because I never look. I also haven't checked the answering machine in at least a month and a half. I hope no one died.

I have an obscene procrastination problem that I deal with by ignoring. Imagine the irony there.

Kudos to Logitech

I use this mouse and keyboard at home: Logitech LX700. I've always loved it. A few days ago, however, my mouse stopped working. Yes, it was charged. I emailed Logitech and got a canned answer, asking me to do what I already tried to remedy the situation. My keyboard still works great. Today I called. I explained the situation and that I'd already tried the usually solutions.

They are sending me a whole new combo without any hassles or questions! It will be replaced with the MX3000 in less than two weeks. However I do not believe the new set features rechargeable batteries in the mouse. I will not have to send the old set in, so maybe I can get my original one fixed. Either way, I am pleased with their service.

D to the U to the M to the B

What is with the rash of songs that make you feel as if you are in a 6th grade spelling bee? For example: Fergalicious by Fergie or Holla Back Girl by Gwen Stefani (Warning, do not click the links unless you want a billion pop-ups).

It's like: I can't think of anything intelligent to sing about, so lemme spell some words for you. I wonder which member of their creative staff was in charge of the dictionary?

Reminds me of my favorite Rap song of all time: SuperSonic by JJ Fad -- but at least they made their letters stand for something.

The S is for Super and the U is for Unique, the P is for Perfection
and you know that we are freaks. The E is for exotic and the R is for Raps. SO
tell those nosey people just to stay the hell back.

Life is Like a Box of Chocolates

I've been running around like a crazed woman for days. Trying to find time to exercise, trying to find time for 4-H, trying to find time to breathe. I suddenly find that all of a sudden there are about 3.5 million people who need me, and so I don't have time to need myself.

I had my review at work. Went as well as expected, maybe better. I suddenly find myself wanting to work harder -- which I'm sure is a psychological response. I don't have time for that either.

My conclusion? God is definitely a man. A woman would have made days 35 hours long -- at least.

Operation: Make my Jeans Fit Me

Well, Day Two of Operation: Make my Jeans Fit Me went well. I did more, feel great, still motivated. I HAD to buy an Ipod to have tunes of course. I'm looking forward to getting up before 5 to make it to the YMCA. The big worry? Being able to drag myself away to go to work!

I just wish I could see results sooner. Any ideas? My sources say 1-2 months. Depressing.

Nice in Theory

This is not even close to being true.

Your Life Path Number is 6

Your purpose in life is to help others You are very compassionate, and you offer comfort to those around you. It pains you to see other people hurting, and you do all in your power to help them. You take on responsibility, and don't mind personal sacrifice. You are the ultimate giver. In love, you offer warmth and protection to your partner. You often give too much of yourself, and you rarely put your own needs first. Emotions tend to rule your decisions too much, especially when it comes to love. And while taking care of people is great, make sure to give them room to grow on their own.

What Is Your Life Path Number?

Making a Comeback

Well I thought my New Year's Resolutions had all but been forgotten. It appears that I've caught my second wind. Since Wednesday, I've dramatically cut my pop intake. I am down to two caffeinated beverages a day. Just. Like. That. Sure I have added a Diet Root Beer, but even with that I am drastically down.

I joined the YMCA again today. I had a family membership a few years ago. In an entire year I think we went 5 times. Seriously. More than $600 for a few nights of swimming. I went with my mom today. We walked about a mile and a half. We rode some really cool recumbent exercise bikes for 15 minutes. I think I could stick to those. They open at 5am so I am going to TRY to get up and go before work at least 3 days a week. Wish me luck.

Main Goals: To fit into those size 5 jeans again and to be able to walk a mile without nearly passing out. We'll reassess in a month.

Never Gonna Give You Up

As previously mentioned, I didn't meet my father until I was an adult. I was well in to my teens before I even knew what his name was. I used to blame my mother for keeping him from me. Now that I have kids of my own from a less-than-ideal man male, I understand. She was protecting me.

The other day I heard a song by Rick Astley. When I was a kid I had a cassette single with this song on it and I would clutch it at night and cry. I would pretend that HE was my dad and he was singing to me. He just couldn't come and see me because of my mom, and well, duh, he was famous! I didn't even have a clue what the song was about, I just knew it said he was never going to give me up and never going to let me down or lie to me. It was like he was singing directly to me. It got me through a lot of painful nights. I'm very thankful for bad 80's music. And for the fact my mom suffered plenty to protect me. Not all mothers would sacrifice so much.

Happy Homecoming

The husband is home. After giving me a quick kiss that missed my lips by a few inches and making a phone call to someone, he went to bed. Never noticing that I had spent the last day ensuring the house was clean. Never playing with the kid who had been wishing all week he'd come home and play. Getting a whole hell of lot more sleep than I was going to get.

Why did I get married again? Oh yea, to get a better deal on the taxes.

Petty Thief

I just spend 91 dollars at WalMart for laundry detergent and milk. Yea, that's right, the two year old was with me. Upon leaving, I get tackled by the greeters for some stuff that was too big to be bagged. I wonder about the effectiveness of this program. I know if I were a thief, I'd certainly steal a gianormous bag of jumbo paper towels instead of something I could easily fit in my pocket.

Perfect Logic.

Two Days Down

Well, I've made it through two days without the hubby. We are all still alive. Somewhat grumpier than normal, somewhat more exhausted. All I can say is that I could never be a single parent again. The two older ones are behaved (more of less) and at least fear the mean face. The baby? Well she laughs at the mean face. And she makes me want to jump off the roof.

We might make it. At least the baby might. Her survival skills are obviously the strongest.

The Way it Works

I've never understood why women who work with other women think they can gossip about each other and it not get around.

I think that says it all.

T-Minus 1

One more day, that is that I have with the hubby before he's off for his 5-day thingy in the great state of Utah. We spent a rare night as a family without everyone jetting off everywhere. At first I was uber-excited at the thought of 5 whole days without picking up after myself... without getting my paper thrown away... without hearing him grouch at the lazy-butt kids who happen to be spending their last amount of energy fighting with each other. Now I'm scared! It's been over a year since he's had to leave town for training. Last time it was an hour flight away. This time it is across the country. I remember how much work it is doing it alone. Hey, the kids still have to eat, and shower, and all that stuff that we usually divide and conquer. Who is going to take the trash out?

I guess I'll find out soon enough. For once, Sunday can't come fast enough.

Idiotville

Reluctantly I agreed to do a website about a year ago for one of the hubby's friends. Not even one I particularly care about because this is the 'drop everything when he calls guy'. He's always late, never prepared, and in general drives me nuts. I agreed to update the thing last night for the hubby's sake. Not for the fun. Not for the glory. Not even for the few bucks I make doing it. Which, but the way, is not enough to cover wasting my Friday night. I did it for the hubby. Because he thinks I'm selfish. I only ask if he can come after 9 so I can play with the kids and relax before bedtime. He can't. 6:30 it is.

He shows up at 10 till 8. Ten minutes before a new episode of Ghost Whisperer is on. Over an hour since I've been waiting. No call. Then he isn't prepared. Want to know what time he leaves? After 12 freaking thirty. So the baby is up until one because she goes to bed with me.

The whole time he's here, this is what I'm hearing from him: Do you know what ROI means?(yes, thanks, I'm not twelve) Then a half-ass explanation before I can answer. Do you even know what scalable means? Yes, I interject.. able to grow. OH! He says, I didn't think you'd know what that meant! 'I though you would say something about fish.' OMFG - that is what he said! Really, it was like that all night. Finally I said: "(Name withheld), I can't spell, but I still passed English. I'm not stupid." Yes, I said it rudely. It didn't help.

Then I asked him if he knew what pompous meant. Ok, maybe not so much. But I really, really wanted to.

Just Say NO!

I had to take my truck into my dealership's service center today. I was 2000 miles past the 3000 mark that they force you to change your oil at. I'm quite sure it could go at least 6k, as sure as I am that 93 octane isn't any better for my truck than the cheapo crap I put in. However, lovely General Motors decided that the sticker doesn't get people to go in so they devised an idiot light to annoy me with CHANGE ENGINE OIL every time I start it. Every 5000 miles. If only the hubby could program it to say .. DO THE DISHES .. then maybe he wouldn't have to. It's that annoying.

Anyways, I barely handed the (new guy) jerk my keys and he's wanting me to rotate and balance my tires (that I did last time I was in). No thanks. Is it alright to upgrade your oil change? Then we can top off all the fluid levels. Again, no thanks. Can we? NO! Really? NOOOO!

After waiting over an hour, an hour that I'm sure they used to read my pay stubs and possibly steal my identity from all the crap I leave in my vehicle, the jerk is back. OH NO! He's almost frantic. Good thing he (read: the stupid card I agreed to when I bought it) gave me a complementary 28-point inspection!!! It seems that every fluid in my truck with 37,000 miles on it is dirty. It seems my truck is on the verge of total meltdown. I need (fill in 300+ fluids that I'm sure are maybe inside) changed! NOW! Um, how's about no, buddy?! He shakes his head at me and walks away. Devastated at the thought I might have to walk to work on Monday because surely my truck won't run... or the thought he just missed about $200 worth of sales. However, that odd noise I was concerned about? The one that sounded like grinding when I turn? That was nothing. This is why people do not trust mechanics.

You don't even WANT to know what I wanted to title this post, but it had something to do with bending. Let's leave it at that. Final bill? $12.95

True Confessions

Sometimes I just like to reflect on how weird I truly am.

• When I do my 12-14 loads of laundry for the week, I'll do towels last. Then instead of folding them, we'll have to live out of the dryer all week if we need a towel. And I would NEVER reuse one without washing.
• Sometimes I'll just lay my lunchbox on the kitchen counter at the end of the day because I know the hubby will empty it and I won't have to.
• I have a constant headache from my teeth-grinding - and other stuff. Most days I live on a constant dose of Advil and Tylenol every 4-6 hours.
• Sometimes I'm mean because mean people get more respect.
• I read the comics daily. And my horoscope.
• I can't draw, sing, or cook - but I keep trying.
• I sometimes manipulate people to get what I want.
• I've always wanted to make my mother proud.
• I don't eat foods that are green. I'm not sure why.
• I will eat an M&M I dropped on the floor, but not a steak that is on the wrong plate.
• I sometimes have to dig to find my mouse.
• I sometimes lose my shoes, but only ever one at a time. No one knows why.
• My house would be a wreck if I hadn't have had the foresight to marry a neat-freak.
• I can spend an entire weekend on the sofa watching stupid movies, too lazy to even get up to eat.
• I think driving a big truck makes me look important. Running over every curb, however, makes me look pretty stupid.
• I was extra-relieved when I hit the camera in the McDonald's drive through and found out my mirrors fold in - when enough pressure is put on them.
• I would never want to be anyone else than who I am. My issues seem normal.

Finally! The Triangle Peg Puzzle Solution

I try to solve this puzzle every time we go to the Cracker Barrel. The Boy got one in his stocking this year. After some intense losing, I finally stumbled on the answer. Then it took another half hour to remember how I did it. Generally I have 5 or more left at the end. I'm not sure how dumb that makes me.

I'm also really bad at tic tac toe.

Heard it From a Friend Who Heard it From a Friend

I was at The Mean Mom and found a blog titled ...so I stabbed him in the head with a fork (who can resist that?!) who pointed out they saw at Why Are You Stalking Me? who linked the post of Paper Napkin that it is De-lurking Week. Dizzy Yet? I think I have all the credit in there at the right places. So say Hi! or YO! or that This place is irritating! Whatever, but be bold and de-lurk!

Or make me look dumb and don't comment at all