Hey, guess what?

Hey, guess what? There's an election on Tuesday! Bet ya didn't know that, did ya? And it's also "too close to call." Yeah, after 2000, the media better be on the "too close to call" train until at least Wednesday morning.

Hey, guess what? It's raining!!! Unfortunately, it is raining water and not men.

Hey, guess what? Tonight, I came to a blinding revelation: I hate trick or treating! Hate it. I'm so embarrassed to go up to some stranger's house and ask for some effing candy for my darling child. I'm told that the kids think it's fun. Then how come they whine the whole time? "My wig's falling, my feet hurt, it's my turn to ring the doorbell, how come I can't have my candy now, my flashlight's broken, carry me!" Gah! So how come we have to go up and down FOUR STREETS when they have more than enough candy after two??? The co-parent informed me that I only hated it because his loser cousin's ex-wife was accompanying us with her daughter. While it's true that I dislike her for many....MANY reasons...well, he's probably right. She made it un-fun for me. I try really hard not to judge people, but she really makes it difficult for me to keep giving her new chances. She gives me so many reasons to dislike her. I'm just sayin...not my fault. I have tried many times. Something about driving a brand new Trans Am (or whatever it is) and not having enough money for a car seat for your 3 year old child really sets me off. You know...the little things. (Don't worry. We gave them Gabi's old seat, which wasn't really that old, and bought Gabi a new one. So at least they have one now.)

Hey, guess what? Know what's spooky? Cowboys won today!!! Like....a lot! God loves the Cowboys. It's true. Not only are they AMERICA'S team, they're GOD'S team, too! If you don't love the Cowboys, then you don't love God. You are Satan's little helper. God told me Himself.*

Hey, guess what? Jessica and I went out last night and we were the only two dressed up! Well, I dressed so that it could really go either way. I went as me, but sluttier. Too much makeup, short skirt, strappy shoes, white button-down with a red camisole underneath. The problem is, the guys liked it. So I guess I just need to dress sluttier and the guys will come rolling in. Right? I even got invited to a strip club by a man I didn't even know (the same man, incidentally, who ended giving our precious bartender, Brandon, the number for a Chinese hooker. I am not EVEN makin that up, y'all). I declined. I didn't even know him and creeeeeeeeeepy! I called Jessica when I got out there to inform her not to wear anything too wacky because everyone at PARTY CENTRAL was in normal clothes. Well, she's so rad that she comes in her blonde wig and pink boa anyway. SO! I had brought my tiara from Melinda's wedding (I should post a pic from that wedding. I looked so rad! Oh, and Melinda too. Hee!) for Jessica to wear. This drunkass girl that we do not know at all at the end of the bar is all "Oh, can I wear your tiara???" And Jessica's all, "OK, for seven minutes." I'm all, "Dude, serious sentimental value to that thing, do not let her out of your sight." Jessica's all, "It's cool, yo." I believed her. Only because I was sure that the two of us could catch her and knock her down if we had to. We get the tiara back and then her very sweet boyfriend or whatever asks if he can buy the tiara from us for $40! Now that is very sweet, but I'm all, hell no. There are 8 girls out there in the world who all really like each other who have these matching tiaras. There's no money for that. So then he asks if he can buy the pink boa. Jessica is skeptical at first...until the guy offers her $20 for it. Then she's all, hell yes. He goes out to the car to get the money and she leans over and lowers her voice (a rare occurrence for either one of us) and says, "I paid 5 bucks for that thing." But Drunkass was happy, dare I say, thrilled with the purchase. The Boyfriend was also happy that he had made his lady happy. Aw. Oh, and check out the pic of us below. Excuse the red-eye and the insanely bright lips. Like I said, slutty.

Hey, guess what? I'm out of things to yap about! For now anyway...

*I really do not have the faintest idea who God's favorite football team is.

Look! It's me and Jessica! Aren't we presh? 

Jacket Oil Vote Clever Sam's Halloween

So check it out, y'all. Last night? Got the jacket back!!! WOO!!! It's been since March and we're finally reunited. Sigh. There is contentment in the air. Yesterday and today went pretty well altogether. Let's start from the beginning, shall we? Or at least the parts I remember. Hee!

First, I got my oil changed. Now, this is routine and banal, but you know how when something has been nagging at you and you know you have to get it done and you either forget or procrastinate? Well, I had been procrastinating because I knew I would be visiting my parents' on the weekend of the 22nd and my dad always does it. Not because I insist on it, but he just likes taking care of his little girl even though I'm not so little any more. If you're a parent (or even a doting close relative), you understand that. Anyway! Well, we all know what happened last Saturday morning (and thank you all for your inquiries and good thoughts. He's doing great and finding new and fun ways to build things that blink using only one arm.). Can you believe he still wanted to change my oil Sunday morning? I'm all, "No, One-Armed Wonder, I'll pay $25 to have someone who's slightly less injured do it." So I did it! In under a week! It's so cleansing to get that black cloud removed from your soul. You know...by...getting your...oil.........changed.....

So earlier in the day (Friday), the co-parent had asked if I wanted to go sing karaoke with him. It was kind of "Oh you're going to go sing tonight? Where do you go?" and then he was all, "Yeah, I go to Vinny's. You wanna go?" Because both of us have professional-grade voices (it ain't braggin if it's true, OK???), we sang a lot back in the day. It sounded fun mainly because I hadn't been out singing in a long time. But then it was Friday afternoon, I was running late because I had to pick my car up. Now, there is something I've learned about traffic in this area. Maybe it's everywhere, I don't know. Every minute you leave later, your traffic time multiplies exponentially. If I leave at 4:50, it takes me 20 minutes to get to Gabi's day care. If I leave right at 5:00, it takes 35 minutes. If I leave at 5:10, it takes an hour. Child, I ain't even makin that up. So anyway, I was wearing my work logo shirt and I am NOT wearing that out. Basically, I didn't have time to go home and pick up another shirt. It was 4:57 and if I went home first, I would not get on the highway until 5:15 at the earliest and I just did not have the patience for that. So I head straight for the highway. As I'm driving in my 24 minute commute I decide I cannot sing karaoke tonight, for I have nothing to wear to the ball. Oh dudes, I should totally tell you about a dream I had about me and my hot mulatto boyfriend! It's not dirty or anything. Pervs. But that's for another post. So I get the lil princess, head off to Nana's and we sit and we chat and then Nana's all telling Gabs that "Mommy and Daddy are going to go out together tonight." Now, we're in the garage at this point (it's like an outdoor family room at their house) and I'm going inside. I get one foot in the door (literally) and I turn around and say, "no we're not." Nana whirls around, "Why not?!?" I point to my shirt and say, "I'm not wearing this!" She says, "I've got tons of clothes!" Now, this sounds weird coming from someone they call "Nana" but I'm sure I could've found something decent to wear. But I pause...put my other foot in the door and say, "Oh you just want another grandbaby!" She gives this look like, "Well, duh!" I just laugh and go inside. Seriously dudes, there is no effing way in this life or next that we are getting back together. He and I walk this very fine line between "Oh, you're smart and funny and we have great conversations" and "I must restrain myself from flying into a murderous bloody rage for the sake of our child." It's better this way.

So, I drive home. I take a shower. I putter around in my towel, painting my toenails, and watching Medical Investigation and finding it very easy to become distracted from it. Phone rings. It's Robby! He is married to my dear friend Melinda. Anyway, he says they're heading up to my regular bar and wanted to know if I'd be out! He and Melinda and Melinda's brother Mike, and everyone's friend and all-around kick-ass girl Jordan were all going! Yay! So see, if I had stayed and gone to sing karaoke, I would've probably missed out on the good funtimes. So I get dressed and paint my face and brush my hair and go up there to meet them. I immediately sat down with them without saying hello to all of my regular friends. I don't think this is bitchy since I see those people every week and I hadn't seen Melinda since August and Jordan since like...January! Mike lives in Chicago, so I can't say for sure when I saw him last. Anyway, this leads to people either not knowing I'm there or giving me looks like, "what are you doing over there with people we don't know instead of over here with us?" Don't worry, I made nice with everyone as the night progressed. So I got to see pictures of the baby and we briefly dipped into political conversation. Whew, that is a minefield if I ever heard one. It all started with Robby pulling Melinda out of a conversation she was in with me to gesture to Jordan and say, "You didn't tell me she was a Democrat!" I find this so hilarious because Robby is the most innocuous, whatever-you-say, if-that's-what-you-like, easy-going person I've ever met. EVER! The guy really enjoys talking about darts and beer. And politics is certainly not the most innocuous thing ever, especially four days before what everyone is calling "the most important election of our lifetimes." Which.... yeah it's important, but our whole LIVES? Dramatic much? So then Melinda is all "I'm not voting." Jordan....oh man, she does not like that one bit. Melinda tries to defend herself by saying that she hasn't done her reasearch and she's just not sure which way she would vote. Jordan: still not having any of it. I explain that you've got to vote for SOMEONE even if you vote for Harrison Ford (he made a good president, right?). So if, say, the vote tallies come back with 20% "Other/write in votes" then I think that would send a message that a lot of people don't like the current system and/or the current candidates at all. Not that I think it would ever get that high, but you get my freakin point, OK? We have the right to vote. It is not a mandate. It is a privelege. And Jordan made a great point when she said that women died to ensure that we have that privelege. That's when I brought up Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. Apropos, no? Have you guys seen the "get-out-and-vote" commercials on Comedy Central? Well, there's one with Triumph heckling innocent people on the street. He goes up to one guy and asks him if he'll be voting. The guy says no. And Triumph says, "Any other rights you'd like to squander?" Hilarious and to the point. I wish I could be to the point. Just once, you know?

So Melinda and Robby leave. Now it's just me and Jordan and Mike. Somehow, the conversation got turned around to me. Now don't think I'm some egomaniac, OK? I really don't know how this happened. I think someone stopped by to say hello or goodbye or something and I made the oft-hilarious statement that everyone loves me. Jordan asks, "And why DO people love you?" And I said as adorably as possible, "Well, duh! I'm adorable!" She shoots back, "No really. Why do you think people like you?" At this point, I'm all, "...." Then I say, "I'm not sure. I'm really loud and opinionated, but I try not to be condescending and close-minded" or something to that effect. Then I opine that for some reason, men my age do not like me. 20 year old bartenders? Love me! 40 year old bankers? Love me! Any male in the 25-35 age range? Bzzzzzzzzzt!!! Wrong!!! She asks, "Why do you think that is?" Again, "....." I'm thinking, dude, if I knew that, I probably wouldn't have a problem. I go through some possibilities, I'm loud, I don't need a man (I want a man, which is very different), I'm very independent (which is what I thought guys wanted??), and I think they get confused when they realize that blonde southern women can actually have working neurons. Mike jumps in here with something to the effect of "Maybe you should just chill the hell out." Of course he didn't use those exact words because Mike is a great guy. I think he used something more like "relax." (I just watched Zoolander. Hee!) So maybe I'm too intense? I don't think I overanalyze and I think I'm pretty cool with stuff overall, but I can see his point. So if I start to look like I'm not chill, please, someone tell me to not freak out. Do not EVER tell me to chill. I freakin hate that. Or when I'm really mad and someone tells me to calm down....whoa, I hope you're ready for tea because there's going to be some steam. And possibly a satan-voice. I'm talking about if I am overanalyzing, freaking out about a situation that is possibly not that freak-outable, go ahead and tell me to quit it. If I'm mad, just let me be mad. I cannot be dealt with in those situations. Hey, I'm honest. Which brings me to my favorite part of the conversation. After having a semi-dark talk about my "issues" (of which I have none, I assure you)*, I ask Jordan why SHE thinks everyone loves me. She simply says, "You're clever." Now this is completely awesome for two reasons. One is, I love that word. Not because of the way it sounds or the way it's spelled. I love what it means. It means quick-witted! Original! Bright! Me?? Really??? Second, I truly love using that word to describe people, whether it being an honest assessment or an ironic one. So I assumed she meant it in the literal sense and was truly flattered. She explains that, "Yeah, I don't ever dread your presence. It's never like 'oh no, not her again.'" So guess what! I'm not a buzzkill!!! I'm not the death of the party!!! This is great! That was a great ego-boost.

Then I had a text message exchange with CK again. I'll just sum up for you this time. He said he wasn't hitting on me last week. Whatever, fool. You don't tell someone to "drive" when you're just messin around. So he's all "I'm on my way home, whatcha doin?" I say, "sitting up, thinking about how hot you are. what are you doing?" and he's all "going home to masturbate." And this reply is funny for two reasons. Let's play a game to see who can figure out what's so hilarious about my reply. "Think of me. I'm sure it's routine by now. Call me if you want to snuggle. Hee!" Now, the "hee" is there so he knows I'm totally kidding and that I know that he's just trying to prove to me that he can pretend to hit on me. So at least I got my jacket back. That's some sort of weird closure. Maybe this whole thing will ride off into the sunset. Let's hope.

And then today! Man. I paid my bills, I mailed/dropped off everything, and I went to Sam's. Now, I know I'm supposed to hate everything associated with the corporate monolith that is Wal-Mart, but I love Sam's. Not only do I have an $80 eye appointment (see oil change paragraph on why that's so satisfying) on Wednesday (that's cheap, yo), I was also approved for a Sam's credit card, AND I'm like, never running out of Q-Tips. Ever!!!

Then I got home to peace and satisfaction only to find Zoolander on TBS! I forgot how funny that movie was. Omigod. Just....too funny. So now I have to go get ready to go out. Mark says I should totally dress up. I'm all....well....I'm not very good at it. And then I started telling him my idea to go as Drunk Girl from SNL and he seemed to say that was OK. It always makes me nervous to go somewhere in costume. Didn't you guys see Bridget Jones's Diary? Oh that is one of my worst fears. Thinking everyone will be dressed up and then it's ONLY YOU??? Dread. So...maybe. I'm sure I'll be writing an update tomorrow since I can't seem to SHUT MY TRAP FOR MORE THAN 2 MINUTES!!! Whew. Anyway. OK. Toodle-oo!!

*You can stop laughing now. Really.

Tall Latte, Light Cream....or something

OK. People. Here's the deal. If you're going to forward an email claiming that something has happened, that I should boycott something for whatever reason, research it first! Here are a few useful websites:

Snopes
Truth or Fiction
Scambusters

Go. Find one you like. Add it to your favorites. And any time you get an email that pisses you off enough or tugs at your heartstrings enough to pass it on, look it up on one of these websites first. That's right - before you pass it on. Research first. Forward second. I got this email twice today:

Dear Everyone:

Please pass this along to anyone you know, this needs to get out into the
open. Recently Marines over in Iraq supporting this country in OIF (Operation
Induring Freedom) wrote to Starbucks Coffee, because they wanted to let them
know how much they liked their coffee and try to score some free coffee grounds.
Starbucks wrote back telling the Marines thanks for their support in their
business, but that they don't support the War and anyone in it and that they
won't send them the coffee. So as not to offend them we should not support in
buying any Starbucks products. As a War vet and writing to you patriots I feel
we should get this out in the open. I know this War might not be very popular
with some folks, but that doesn't mean we don't support the boys on the ground
fighting street to street and house to house for what they and I believe is
right. If you feel the same as I do then pass this along, or you can discard it
and I'll never know. Thanks very much for your support to me, and I know you'll
all be there again here soon when I deploy once more.
Semper Fidelis,
Sgt Howard C. Wright
1st Force Recon Co.
1st Plt PLT RTO

After the third sentence, I went directly to snopes and searched "Starbucks" and it came back with a big fat red FALSE! This email was different mainly because the name at the bottom is the name of the actual author and he is recounting events that he thought actually happened. The truth is, he had heard this story about third-hand and made a lot of assumptions to fill in the gaps. He has since apologized and sent out another email recanting this story. But that email hasn't made it to my inbox yet. Hm. Interesting. Anyway, don't think these sites are just for email stories, either. If you hear a story in real life, if you read something in a chat room, if someone tells a story in a blog (but not me, of course. I only speak da troof! but feel free to research me and let me know if I'm *gasp* wrong!), it can't hurt to just look it up real fast. The internet is this wonderful amorphous blob that can be used for good or evil, even if unintentionally. Use it for good. I implore you. And as for "important news stories," stop and ask yourself, "If this were true, would I really be hearing about it for the first time in an email?"

So go to Starbucks! Pay four bucks for a damn cup of coffee! And RELISH the thought that you are not un-American! What's more American than a little Seattle coffee-shop becoming an international monolith? What's wrong with a tasty cup of coffee??? If you got four bucks to blow, do it in style. You can still be a patriot and have your over-priced coffee, too.

No Point

Just a few random thoughts:

OK, serious first. Just to clear something up...911 or 9-1-1 is the number you call in an emergency. 9/11 or 9-11 is the date of the worst attack on American soil. Maybe I'm a little more sensitive to it since I work for a 911 district, but it drives me nuts when people use these terms interchangably. I also hate it when people call here and ask if this is the "Nine-eleven district." Guh.

Does anyone under 65 drive a Buick? Seriously.

I went to go pick up my lunch today and on the way back, my car smelled like tacos and flowers. It was the best smell ever.

Get this exchange on a message board that the co-parent has sucked me into lately. It's a thread on terrorism. I know, sounds heavy...just read:

Me: If blonde women with charming Texas accents in their late 20's were crashing airplanes into buildings, I would expect to spend a little more time at the airport..........

The one who calls himself "Wino": Met a few of those charming ladies over the years - they got up every morning thinking, "I will destroy a mans life today!" leaving nothing in their wake - Made Sherman's march look like a kids game!! Tear your heart right out of your chest and stomp on it!

Me: Ooooh, Wino! Thanks for the idea! I'll add that to my diabolical plan. Muwahahaha!!! We are a charming sort, in a deadly way. But somehow, I make it adorable.

See what I mean? No point.

Weekend Update

Man, so much happened this weekend. Where to start...I know, the beginning is the logical choice USUALLY, but then it would go from fun to serious back to fun and we should keep all of our emotions organized, don't you think? OK, serious first.

Thursday, I took off of work because Gabi was puking everything up. No fever, just puking. Luckily, she only threw up once in my care (I have an inexplicable aversion to vomit and poop. As a mom, I've been told, I was supposed to get over that...no dice). By Friday, we were able to go ahead with our plans for the weekend. So, I took Gabi down to my parents' house in Wichita Falls (120 miles away and NOT in Kansas! That's Wichita, people. This is Wichita FALLS! That's especially for those of you in the airline industry. Sheesh). My dad had grown this massive pumpkin for Gabi. It had grown to about 70-ish pounds and he had carved a cute little face into it when it was still kinda small so it has this huge jack-o-lantern scar on it and Gabi and my dad were going to carve it and make a nice huge jack-o-lantern for their house out in the middle of nowhere that no one ever trick or treats at. But, you know, just in case. Anyway! So we had Saturday all planned out. I needed a break from my darling offspring and my mom and I were going to go shopping in the afternoon while the pumpkin was relieved of its guts and turned into a Halloween spectacle by Gabi and my dad. In the morning, my dad goes out and rides his bike (he likes to race). My mom and I had to do any "chores" in the morning to have adequate shopping time. Geddit? Am I making sense here? So my mom decides about 11:30 to go vote and pick up some vegetables for dinner that night. She said she'd be back around 12 and that's about what time Dad usually got in from his ride. At 12:03, the door opens. And there's my 58 year old father: torn jersey, blood dripping from his hands and knee, left arm held up by a couple of tubes (you know, like for your tires?). I get up from the kitchen table all "Whaaa.....?" And here comes the racing team dude with the bike. Apparently (thankfully), the team always sends a van out with the riders for minor bike repairs, water, and luckily, medical attention. Hey, remember what I said about vomit and poop? Well, I also have a problem with other people's blood. I simply cannot stand to watch other people bleed, but this is no time for my psychological quirks (of which, admittedly, I have many). Anyway, the racing team guy is all "We had an accident, he's OK, but he needs to go to the emergency room." I mean, the blood can easily be cleaned up, but obviously there are other things at play here to need the ER. I mean, aren't you supposed to say "My kid crashed his bike and had to go to the ER" instead of "My dad crashed his bike and had to go to the ER"?? So anyway, here I am. My mom's not back yet. If we take off and she comes back and no one's here, well...she's a calm woman, but I'd say that could cause some panic. So I look at my dad as the race team guy (Jarvis! that's his name!) removes the gauze on my dad's left hand. It's all swolen and just bleeding like crazy. I'm no doctor (obviously, since I can't take bodily fluids), but his ring and pinky fingers looked dislocated. And my dad, being almost overly-calm, is all..."OK, I'm going to go take a shower." Now, Jarvis was kind of like...uh, I don't think the ER cares, but I was used to this behavior. This one time when I was in high school, my dad was changing the oil in one of our cars and the jack gave out and sliced his neck open. Did we call an ambulance? Did we hop into the car and speed off to the hospital? No. He went and took a shower while my mom (VERY CALMLY) informed me that they would be out for a while. Geez, how could two incredibly calm people produce such an excitable child?? I'll never know. So anyway, I get this feeling that I am going to get in trouble if I call my mom. He is against alarming anyone that doesn't need to be alarmed. He does not think this is cause for alarm, I can tell. So Jarvis helps my dad out of his shredded jersey and my dad heads back to his room. Jarvis turns to go and pretends to go out the door...looks down the hall...then comes back in and gives me his card. "If he doesn't go to the ER, I want to know about it." I'm all, word up, yo. He's totally going if I have to drag him. And for once, I think I could actually take my dad down if I had to. So I listen for the water to come on for my dad's shower and out comes the cell phone. I call mom and luckily, she was just coming out of the grocery store. I told her what happened and man did she speed home. So long story short (too late!), my dad has a broken collarbone, stitches over two of his knuckles, and is basically wrapped up like a mummy with gauze because of all the road rash. This is the second time he has a) broken his collarbone and b) cracked his helmet...in 3 months. My poor mother. So obviously, our plans were shot. I felt bad because, honestly, this is no time for guests, especially when one of those guests is a 5 year old who really really has a lot of energy. My parents are good people and would still try to be gracious hosts even though my dad CLEARLY needed to rest and my mom CLEARLY needed to be giving all of her attention to him. So I decided to leave Saturday night instead of Sunday afternoon as had been planned before. They were disappointed, but they knew it was the right thing to do. Sigh. But my dad gave me a globe because as much as I love maps, I have no globe. That was nice of him. In addition to the cool globe, we also loaded up that hugeass pumpkin so Gabi could carve it at her Nana's house (the co-parent's mom). That was an interesting sight, I bet: me and my 105 pound mom loading a 70-ish pound pumpkin into my car with my dad, the one-armed-wonder trying to help. Towel-sling. It's the way to go in those situations. So I saw the finished product tonight and I must say, it looks pretty good. I hope to have pictures soon.

Back up to Friday night. I'm fiddling about on my parents' dialup, very frustrating, excruciatingly slow internet around 11:30. I love my parents dearly, but I often find myself very frustrated when I'm there for the weekend. The only time I get to have any kind of social life is Friday and Saturday. When I go to visit them, I have no social life for two weeks, basically. And also, I'm the only night-owl in the house, so I end up kind of lonely. I also miss my housework days and I get behind. I know, bitch bitch whine whine blah blah blah. So I'm playing games and watching some late night shows and my phone goes off. Hm. A text message. Who could it be from? Oh look. It's Captain Kangaroo...what the...? He has barely talked to me the past 3 months, and when he did, it was because I was right in his face and he could neither run nor hide. And I mean, he has NOT initiated conversation at all except for that one time he told me I was a "beautiful person." So needless to say, I was surprised. The message says:

"And I actually ?brought? your jacket tonight." Now, I don't know if those question marks were for emphasis or....well, just read on.

I replied very cordially with, "Dammit! Just my luck! Thank you so much for bringing it. Can you bring it next weekend?"

CK: "I will forget by then!"

I'm not sure exactly what I said here, but it was along the lines of "Well, write yourself a note!"

CK: "Whateva!" (which I hate!)

Me: "I HATE non-answers!" (see?)

CK: (received before I could send previous msg) "You snooze, you lose!"

CK: "???" (in response to my hating)

Me: "Whateva equals non-answer! Sorry, I'm out of town and grumpy." And I must've said something about missing out because...

CK: "That and a whole lot more! Oh well! Somebody's loss."

Now, this is his adorable, very humble way of letting me know that I am missing out on a whole lot more than getting my jacket back, IYKWIM. I am QUITE surprised at this point.

Me: "That doesn't mean what I think it means...does it?"

CK: "Maybe..." and then he goes on to one of his catchphrases that he used to use when we would play TM tag at 2:00 in the morning before um...getting together. So basically, at this point I KNOW that he is propositioning me. He asks if this frightens me...

Me: "No, but only because I'm 120 miles away with no escape and YOU'RE DRUNK!"

CK: (this one's my favorite) "Your loss! (drive!)"

Me: "You'd be asleep by the time I got there" (which is totally true)

CK: "Been so long. Maybe mot [sic]" (I've never gotten to use sic before! Sweet!)

Me: "Well, since it's been so long, I'm sure you can wait another week or at least until Wednesday" (my usual night off)

CK: "Probably not"

Me: "What a TEASE!"

CK: "You know me so well!"

And that was the end of it. Now see, I'm wondering if those question marks in the first message really meant that he was kind of lying about bringing the jacket and wanted me to...ahem...come pick it up at his place. It was 11:30, so he knew I wasn't going to show up at the bar and he was most likely quite sauced at that point. I hate to overanalyze, so I'll just analyze. My pure speculation is that on some level, he misses me. We'll just have to see next weekend. Or, if he remembers, Wednesday. Now THAT would be interesting.

He wasn't out on Saturday, so I TM'd him and let him know that he was missing out, but I didn't get a response. Meh. I'm not going to even try to analyze that one because there are a myriad of reasons why he may not respond. But anyway, I got to hang out with Jessica and as always, we had a good time. Seriously, she is one of the funniest people I know and I AM PICKY ABOUT MY FUNNY! I wish I hadn't had that shot so I could remember what was so damn funny. Man, no more shots for me. The longer I go in between shots, the worse effect they have on me.

Geez, if I hear "The Dallas Cowboys' excruciating loss to the Green Bay Packers" ONE MORE TIME!!! I swear. I get it! They got crushed! Here, let me sum up the game. The Packers: barely had to punt, converted almost all of their 3rd downs, had a lot of 1st downs, caught a lot of footballs. The Cowboys: just the opposite. Yes, Parcells is pissed. Time to move on over to Drew Henson? Maybe. But as sports-guru Sevi pointed out, maybe it's time to move on over to a new offensive line. Stick to baseball, Sevi! Hee! Kidding! Speaking of whom, we had a great exchange tonight during the baseball game. Him, rooting for the Cards and me, rooting for the Sox:

Sevi: 3 rough days in a row coming up (referring to his work schedule)

Me: yeah, should be rough what with the Cards getting their arses kicked.

Sevi: you talk a lot of smack for someone who needs baseball rules explanations at frequent intervals.

Dang! Him and his "points." But at least I ask! Right? OK, anyway, it's laaaaaaaaaate! I should really go to bed. But I feel like I'm forgetting to say something...Oh well. See why I need a little recorder thing? I'll try to write it down if/when I remember. For now, toodle-loo!

Anybody see Lost last night? But enough about the Yankees. Badump!

Yeah, I stole it from Leno! Yeah, I'm easily amused! So sue me!

A touching, bonding conversation with my child about baseball

Gabi: Go Red Sleeves!
Me: No, honey, we're going for the Red SOX.
Gabi: But you told me that we were going for the team with the red sleeves?
Me: Uh...well, I guess I did say that. You're right. Go Red Sleeves!
Gabi: How many points do we have?
Me: See the number up by the "B-O-S"? What's that number?
Gabi: 9
Me: OK, what's the other number?
Gabi: 3. Hey, that other team only needs 6 more points. (Seriously, she said that without missing a beat) What's the other team's name, Mommy?
Me: Evil Empire
Gabi: Who's that guy?
Me: That's A-Rod. He used to play for the Rangers.
Gabi: The who? (How easily we forget)
Me: The Texas Rangers! You know...OUR baseball team?
Gabi: Oh yeah. How come they're not playing?
Me: Well....uh.....
Gabi: Mommy? What's an empire?
Me: Did you ever see Star Wars?
Gabi: Uh.....
Me: Never mind.

What I really loved is how she never questioned that they were evil. Just the empire part.

OK, we're up 10-3 and honestly, I'm cheering every out because we're just that much closer to the WORLD SERIES BABY! Go Red Sleeves!!!

I'm not even making this stuff up....

You know how in Spanish or French (or, I'm sure, a myriad of other languages), inanimate objects are given male or female gender? Like, in Spanish a table is feminine and a bag is masculine. Well, I've noticed that instead of assigning male or female to things, I assign good and bad. Sometimes, the reasons are obvious and sometimes they are a complete mystery. What tipped me off was how I treat different cars on the road while I'm driving. If a Mercedes cuts me off? Expletive expletive expletive!!! If a VW Bug cuts me off....nothin. So I paid attention all weekend to see which cars I'm nicer to. I'm the nicest to Bugs and Volvos. I'm meanest to BMW's and Mercedes (especially the ones that say "Kompressar" or whatever on the back). I give the most space to champagne colored Buicks and newer-model minivans. Full size vans? Nuh uh. No way. I hate those things. HATE! They are slow and stinky and easy to get in front of. I pick out Mustangs and Altimas for my speeding buddies and instantly despise any yellow car. I am also more likely to box in Hummers and trucks with wheels that are way too big for it. I will check out anyone driving a newer model mid-size pickup or a jeep. I think maybe I spend too much time in traffic.

Another thing that I've assigned good and bad to: names. Now, I think everyone does this on some level because of our experiences with people. But I fear that it shows on my face a little too often. Let's go with "bad" first. I have had terrible experiences with anyone named Nicole. Now that's bad because dammit there are a LOT of them. But somehow, every time I meet one it's like, that's nice...see ya. Same thing with Chads and Brads. All trouble, I tell ya. But on the good side: Matthew, Mark....I know what you're thinking. Luke and John, right? But no. Those are fine names, but there are a lot of Johns and I don't know any Lukes. Then there are my Christophers and Christians. Mmmm....Chris. Brians and Michaels can go either way. But every time I meet a Matthew, Mark, or Chris, I'm just positive that my little face just lights right up. I also find myself saying dumbass things like, "Oh reeeeaaaallly?" But I'm holding out for a Zachary. IT STARTS WITH Z!!! Yet another ridiculous thing to assign good and bad to: letters. Z is my favorite. Know anyone with a favorite letter that is NOT the first letter of their name? I mean, D is a good letter and all, with a nice stable sound and you can write it conservatively or florid(ly?). But Z? It's so balanced in an asymmetrical way and it makes the coolest sound!

See? I DO spend too much time in traffic! That's where I come up with this stuff! Can you imagine if I had one of those little recorder thingies so I could get it all down? I mean, this is only the stuff I REMEMBER!

And in other news:

What's the big deal with flu shots? I just....don't....GET IT! I never had a flu shot. I got the flu occasionally when I was a kid. I'M FINE! People were dying from flu-related complications way before the flu shot, they just weren't splashed all over the news like they are now. So now people are waiting in lines for 8 hours for a shot. I'm sorry, I just don't get it. Wash your hands like everyone else and if your DOCTOR thinks you should have a shot, he can give you one. I'm all for at-risk people getting a shot, but geez make the sensationalist news media shut up about it already.

Here in Dallas, they had to issue an Amber Alert for these two little boys (three years and six months old) who were in a van. A running van. A running unlocked van. A running, unlocked van left alone while their mother went inside to pay for the gas. I cannot imagine the horror that mother must feel or the complete terror the 3 year old must have felt (apparently, the 6 month old slept through it all), but can I just say something? Have we not learned by now to keep our eyes on our children at all times? And have we not learned to not leave our vehicles running unattended? Luckily, the boys were found about a mile and a half away NINE HOURS LATER. Thank The Deity of Your Choice they're OK and I bet that mother is never letting those boys out of her sight again.

Ninety-one degrees is the forecast high for tomorrow. On October 18th. Wasn't it August when I was sleeping with my windows open and turning the a/c off? I don't EVEN want to hear the tired old wives' tale about how a mild summer means a colder-than-usual winter. Studies have shown that this is just not the case. The truth is, in years where there is a mild summer, by the time the seasons turn, normal temperatures and weather patterns are back in place. In other words, summer and winter are totally different meteorological animals and you can't really link the two without some major event (i.e. Mt St Helens in 1980 - THAT is an awesome year for statistics). OMG I just realized what a hugantic nerd I am. Well, I already knew, but sometimes it just becomes kind of blinding, you know? Wanna see my Mt St Helens salt and pepper shakers?

Salt on top, pepper on the bottom. 

Did you think I was kidding? 

Exchange of the Night

After Jessica downs a french dip:

Jessica: Sorry I didn't share. I said you could have some.
Me: It's OK. I wasn't really hungry. How was it?
Jessica: It was so good. You don't EVEN know!!! You know ....because I ate it all.

That just gave me the biggest case of the giggles. Hee!

You know, I like to think that I have a decent grasp on the English language. I still get little tips here and there from Lynne (who somehow knows everything...I don't know how), Sevi (and he adds!) and Jessica (who teaches it for a living). But I love that feeling when you've had this amorphous thought floating around in your head but just couldn't find the words for it and then...someone says it! They just....SAY IT! And you're like, "That is what I've been trying to say this whole time!!!" And then they look at you like you have three heads because they have no idea what you're talking about. Which is why the internet is such a beautiful thing. They can't see you freaking out about it. Today's lightbulb moment came from a fancy little website called Tomato Nation. If I have read everything correctly, this is the same incredibly cool chick who also runs Television without Pity, which is probably one of my favorite websites in the world. The WORLD! So anyway, she has an advice column called The Vine. And I've been reading a special edition of The Vine in which she answered 24 questions in 24 hours (with a little help from her friends). She gives some good, easy-to-understand, you already knew it and just needed someone else to tell you advice. But anyway, I stumbled upon this little gem from "Kim" and had one of those fabled "That's what I've been trying to say!" moments:

Don't crushes suck? The worst part is that you know you are being
completely ridiculous, and yet you can't help it.

That's it! That's how I feel about Captain Kangaroo! I know it's ridiculous! I know it's stupid! Yet I can't help it! He is no good for me! But dammit if I care about the guy. OK. Hopefully, now that I've figured out what the hell is going on with me, I can get the hell over it. Haven't you ever had that happen? All you needed to happen was just to figure it out.

So only related in my mind, I had a great inner dialogue with myself over fate today. I don't even know what brought it on. Of course, I was in the car so I couldn't really write everything down. I hate it when I think of funny stuff in the car! Anyway! First of all, let me say that I don't generally believe in these kinds of things. I believe that 99% of things have a logical, natural explanation (unless it's a computer...in which case...different plane of existence all together and therefore, different set of rules). But have you ever had a conversation with a person (or maybe you ARE this person) who is just convinced that Fate is out to get them. The Fates are conspiring specifically to lead them to a certain space in life or teach them a lesson or lead them to their soul mate. As if they have a staff meeting every morning and decide how they're going to mess with your life today. But I don't think that's how it works. I think The Fates don't have staff meetings. I think they just sit around and listen to what you say. Oh! I remember what brought this on! I was STUCK in traffic. Like, SUVs on all sides, going over a lake, about to lose a lane and no exits or service roads. Total suckage. And I look over at the other side of the freeway. Empty. And I remember this one time I was in California and we were driving along that famous OJ freeway and we were cruising along at the California speed limit of 178 and we look over at the other side and they're just stopped...much like I am now. So we point out the window and say "Oh man! They are so mad! Just look at them being mad!" All the while just laaaaaaaaaughing and laaaaaaaaaaaaaughing. Well, The Fates were listening. And they said, "Oh you think that's funny, do you?" And of course, before you know it...stopped. That's when I learned that They are listening. Ever had some jackass whiz by you on the freeway when you're going 80? And you think "You jackass, I hope you get a ticket!" And then, before you know it....disco lights...FOR YOU! They make sure you learn your lesson. What I don't understand is how come 105 mph jackass doesn't get his due? Maybe he does and you just don't see it. But man, wouldn't it be nice to see it? And then, the biggest and most important example of this theory...the time the co-parent joked about a broken condom almost six years ago. We all know where that got me. THEY ARE LISTENING!!! The other version of The Fates teaching us lessons is "Oh, is that what you wish for?" Like the other day, I was wishing for a day off. Today, I'm sick so I had to go home early. See? They're LISTENING! And you just know what wishing you could lose weight will get you: a medical condition! But I think I'm learning. Now when someone is in the car and they say something about a deadly and bloody accident, I roll down the windows and wave all the bad kharma out and express to them, "They're LISTENING! Don't say stuff like that!" Hey, anyone who's in the car with me knows me well enough to know that I'm nutty in the good way. Like a Pay Day.

Random thoughts generated by the TV:

Dudes! Lost was so good. Was it not? Oh I think it was. And big ups to Jessica for translating the Korean FOR REAL and not the way that TWOP does it (which is hilarious, but wrong).

I love it when they run back-to-back political ads, one about how awful a guy is and the very next saying how wonderful the same guy is. Luckily, we only have to worry about ads for one congressional race and the initiative to build a new Cowboys stadium in Arlington. According to CNN.com both presidential candidates have spent a grand total of zero dollars for campaign ads in Texas. God Bless Texas. Truly.

I'm sorry, after seeing Richard Gere in Dr. T and the Women, I can never ever take him seriously again. And especially anything with Jennifer Lopez in it. Seriously.

Those new Burger King commercials? Creepy, wrong, and some disturbing homoerotic undertones. I'm not saying that homoeroticism necessarily is disturbing to me...I'm saying this particular brand of underlying homoeroticism involving breakfast food is disturbing. Big time.

Jay Leno: Know who won the debate tonight? Anyone who watched baseball. Badump!

Can I just say that Queen Latifah is one of the few celebrities I actually like? I hate a LOT of celebrities, but I like her. I like Ben Affleck too even though his new movie looks STOOPID. Don't worry, I hated him when he was dating J Lo. Ick. He was such a robot during that time. But then I saw Dogma again last week and decided that I didn't want to fight any more.

OMG. Shrek 2 DVD! Far Far Away Idol is one of the special features! That's hilarious. I'll have to make sure that that one ends up at my place.

Has anyone noticed that the new U2 song says....one, two, three, fourteen in Spanish? Like...huh?

OK, I'm done with TV for tonight. The only other thing I have to say is that tonight was supposed to be the season opener for my Stars. Stupid lockout. And the Red Sox lost. Stupid Yankees. Sleep now. Love!

Good/Bad

From tvguide.com's Rochell Thomas on the new show Manhunt (something like the search for some new male model. "America's Next Top Model" for men):

These guys are wannabe male models which means there are some super-hot
boys in the bunch but most of them are just odd-looking in a photogenic way.
They're high maintenance Vanity Smurfs. And, I hate to say it, but they're kinda
dumb. Seriously. This is why pretty boys shouldn't talk.

Haaaaaahahaha! Haven't you ever said, "I just want them to sit there and look pretty"? I know I have. A lot. I especially like what she says about most of them being "odd-looking in a photogenic way." That is so true. Male models are usually just weird looking more than hot.

As I laugh, I feel like crap. I want to go home and SLEEP! And my tummy hurts. Waaaaaaah!

Woo! Lost comes on tonight! Oh, and I guess we need alternate viewing options because of the debacles....er....debates. Hm, Mythbusters comes on Discovery at 8 (CDT). Ooh! Modern Marvels on the History Channel (which I usually only watch when there's a man in the room hogging the remote) is covering the history of Chicago's Sears Tower. That looks interesting. And IF I had digital cable I could watch Naked Science on the National Geographic Channel or Coupling on BBC (which is actually VERY funny - and more proof that we should just leave the Brit humour ALONE!). Maybe I'll just go to bed early. This is awful. I finally have a good hair day and all I want to do is go to bed. Wait. Back up. I ALWAYS have a good hair day. Today is an exceptionally good hair day. But I still kinda want to throw up a little.

Film at 11

I did it! I am the bigger person. It's official. Hang on....my arm has a cramp from patting myself on the back.....

So anyway....I'm sittin at the bar with Jessica. We had our cheese fries (diets start tomorrow). I played my trivia. Captain Kangaroo is at the table behind us with Bald Josh and Crazy Gary (CK's roommate). So I get up to go to the bathroom. As I'm in the bathroom, I decide I'm going to do it. I was going to talk to him. I had already sat down and talked to Crazy Gary for a while before CK arrived. I had said that I noticed they moved (their old apartment faced a major road and I noticed last week that their balcony was empty). He was all "Yeah, a couple months ago. Where have you been?" I said, well I hadn't talked to them in a while and mentioned that I missed that. Crazy Gary might be crazy, but he's fun to talk to. So anyway! I'm in the bathroom stalling (no pun intended, but a good one anyway). I've noticed that I do that. On my way to my 10 year high school reunion, I stalled a lot - fiddling extra long with my hair, pretending like I didn't know what to wear, stopping to get gas when I didn't need it, taking a wrong turn on purpose. That's how nervous I was. So I'm in the bathroom all, why am I so nervous? This is ridiculous. So I go out there and this very tiny girl had taken my chair at the bar! The nerve! So I had a good excuse to plop down at their table.

I sat down right next to CK and was all "hi!" It was truly profound. He says hi and I can't tell if he's surprised or uncomfortable. Probably both, which I just don't get. I'm just so freakin harmless, what's to be uncomfortable about? So I say, "I heard you guys moved." And Crazy Gary chimes in all "Yeah, she's stalking us." I whirl my head around and snark, "Yeah, that's why it took me 2 months to figure it out." I mean....they're just digging for a way to make me look crazy. Sheesh. If I was stalking them, I would already know where their new place was. I made a point of not asking where the new place was. Just asked if they liked it and blah blah blah nicecakes. And then eased into "So it's getting chilly out. Can I get my jacket back?" He's all, yeah you can have it back and that it's safe hanging up in his closet. Um...alright. Can you tell me when or how? Gary....again....is all "Hey why don't you just text message next Friday and ask him to bring it?" I try to suppress the snarkiness this time. What I really wanted to say was, "Wow Gary! What a great idea! I should've thought of that three months ago!" What came out was, "Well, I already tried that. It'd probably work better if someone responded occasionally." Which was probably taken as "bitchy" but the truth is, it could've been much worse. So I go back to CK. "How can I get it back?" He still cannot give me an answer. Then it goes into normal conversation, which, when Crazy Gary is around, is usually sex. And then Gary asks me how come I haven't hooked up with Brad yet. Listen. Brad is my good friend who is apparently in love with me. I realized before we ever went on a date that it was not happening for me. I thought I had done the right thing by not letting him invest money and time in me when I knew it was not there for me. You know, that whole "not leading someone on" thing. But geez, people will not let it go. CK is very quiet during this conversation while I try to defend my actions, yet again, which I find ridiculous. As I turn away from Gary, I catch a glimpse of Jayme the Bartender over CK's shoulder. She is very anti-CK. I had noticed Jessica noticing my absence earlier, but Jayme apparently had just figured it out. She was making these wild gestures that could loosely be interpreted as "What the hell are you doing???" Well, Tiny Girl had made herself quite comfortable with the jacket over the back of MY chair marking of the territory. So I gesture to Jayme the presence of Tiny Girl. Jayme gestures back that they had pulled over another chair for me! Ha! Those girls. I sit for a little longer trying to prod an answer out of CK. Asking very nicely what he would like me to do. I get a shrug. I'm like, "Help me! I'm asking you what would be best for you." I'm really trying to be accomodating. Why is this hard?

So finally, Tiny Girl's makeout partner shows up and they relocate. So I excuse myself and go back to my seat. Jayme, true to her wild gestures, "Why are you over there???" I'm like, "Jayme! I want my shit back! I'm trying to be NICE!" So Jessica is getting tired and she says she's going to go ahead and go home when I'm done with my beer. I tell her that's not really necessary since I'm a slow beer-drinker. So we dilly dally a little longer talking about grammar and handwriting (I'm not even making that part up) and I actually do finish my beer in under an hour and she heads out. I get a new beer, move my stuff over next to Brad and conversate for a few minutes. Well, he's deep in conversation with someone else, so I head back over to BJ, CG, and CK's table. Well, CK's ex-girlfriend is our waitress. (Awkward.) She is a strange girl, but very nice. I decline any new beverages. Quasi-spoiler alert! If you would like to believe that I have nothing ever to do with smokie treats, do not read the spoiler!* I steal one of CK's cigarettes. He says "You know, you could've just asked." So I lick it all the way around. 360 degrees. "Can I have one?" He, somewhat charmingly, says "Yeah, but I want that one." Hee! He actually takes it and puts it in his mouth, but takes it out and is all "It's all soggy. Never mind." Hey, at least he made an attempt to joke around with me. Then he was actually nice and offered me a light.

So I figure if he really did hate my guts, he wouldn't even bother talking to me even if I was sitting right there in his face. I've thought a lot about what it could be. Men are logical thinkers, but surely emotions must come into play in there somewhere. But alas, I have given up trying to figure this one out. All guys say that guys are so easy to figure out. They need food, water, and sex. I wish it were that easy. I can make a mean turkey sandwich. CK has told me that he doesn't want to whore around any more and he wants to start functioning like a normal human. So what I get from that is, he wants a girlfriend. He also believes that as soon as he meets someone he knows whether it can work with them. See the double standard developing here? I'm supposed to give Brad a chance even though I don't feel any sparks with him. CK and CG are both of the belief that it's relatively easy to know right off the bat. Man, I should've pointed that out at the time. Doesn't it suck when you think of the perfect comeback 24 hours later? Well, hopefully I can work it in next time I get the guts to sit and talk with them. As they were leaving, I gave Crazy Gary a hug and told him that I missed hanging out with them and I always have fun. Bald Josh is practically already out the door. I turn around to say bye to CK and he's on the other side of the table. I give him the way-too-big wave with the hand over the head and kind of look at him like, can I have a hug? But he just waved back at me and I don't think he saw the hug gesture. It's almost like he's afraid to look at me for too long. I don't think I'm THAT scary.

Although, I did just get my hair done. I'm not so much blonde any more. From far away I look like a brunette, but I still have the blonde highlights. I am getting compliments though, which is what I would like to expect for a look that I invested 10 hours in. That's right. TEN HOURS! It's a long story and you really don't want to hear it. Just trust me that it looks good and it took some time, but luckily on two separate days. Er....OK, tangent.

Anyway, I feel better about breaking the ice and I'm not so angry about being ignored. I wish he had broken the ice, but I'm SO glad that I took some initiative and put an end to the torture. I hope it holds up and not only can I get my garment back, but maybe we can stay on speaking terms.

OK, so in unrelated news: After my poor Cowboys lost to the stupid Giants today, I guess I needed a little more torture and decided to watch Dr. T and the Women (I had originally put here "Mr. T and the Women" which in retrospect, is kind of hilarious when you consider that THAT movie might've been somewhat entertaining...as the one I actually watched...not so much). You know, Richard Gere and a ton of chicks? Well, I knew they filmed it in Dallas and I always find it really cool to watch movies that were filmed in Dallas because it's so familiar...yet....not! You know? LA and NY people know. And probably Las Vegas people, too. Although those 3 cities might be used to it by now. ANYWAY! If you haven't seen the movie and still plan on watching it, you might want to skip the rest of this paragraph, but I seriously doubt it so I won't bother with spoiler typing. So like, I guess it was going OK and it could've been a decent story even though it was often chaotic with weird subplots and probably too many characters, but the end? The end was...what's the word I'm looking for here? Non sequitur? STOOPID??? He drives into a tornado? And not only does he survive but he lands....with his car, mind you...in MEXICO? I mean, yes they found checks from Wichita Falls in Tulsa back in 1979, but an entire car and a LIVE MAN??? In Mexico? From Dallas??? I mean, no belief had to be suspended up until the last 5 minutes. And then these 3 Mexi-girls find him and pull him from the wreckage, UNHARMED and automatically know he is an obstetrician and take him to a tiny little pueblo where Consuelo just HAPPENS to be in the final stages of labor and he just HAPPENS to deliver it perfectly! And hallelujah it's a boy! Credits roll! WHAAAAAAAAAAT? It's like they were just tired of filming and gave up. So I suffered through bad Texas accents (the only one that was right was Janine Turner and that's because she's from Fort Worth), Laura Dern being horribly underused and put into a wholly shitty role, a less-than-favorable depiction of women in general, and then I get hit with possibly the worst ending since Stargate? Well that was 2 and a half hours I'll never get back. Four and a half if you count Stargate.

In other news, fake internet boyfriend Mark just got back from London. I missed him so. But he did bring back a new word that's fun to say: snog. SNOG! It's like fuck. So maybe I'll just use snog instead of fuck since fuck is a wirty dird. And snog is way more fun to say. Snoggity snog snog. He said that you can use it just like fuck. I don't know if "snog you" is appropriate, though. Because I am always worried about appropriate.

Decision 2004! I am just so sick of this damn election. I'm tired of people arguing, I'm tired of the political ads (although being in Texas and everyone just assuming they know how it's going to go, we don't get the Presidential ads so much), I'm tired of it infiltrating everything. Three more weeks and can we all promise to quit bitching at each other? Everyone go vote and SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUUUP! We truly live in the best country in the world (yes, Canada is awesome, but it's so damn cold!) so instead of being all angry about this or that, let's have some snogging ice cream and be happy, OK? Thank you, Great Britain for reluctantly giving birth to us. Thank you, Latin America for giving us pretty men. Thank you, Australia for yet more pretty men. A shout out to Japan for really cool gadgets and word up to France for all the cheese and wine. See? I'm not saying that America is the ONLY awesome country. It just happens to be my favorite, despite the inclusion of Oklahoma.

And now that I've surely offended the entire planet, I'm going to bed. Word.

*Please do not be angry or shocked. I do not smoke a lot. Usually only when I drink. Please no lectures. I know it's bad!

Thank you Stewy, whoever the hell you are, for removing the nebulous blackness surrounding my original picture. 

And here is the top of my entertainment center. At first glance, it looks like any other entertainment center except for the beautiful painting of the bluebonnets in the center. Bluebonnets are the state flower of Texas and probably the flower I get excited about the most except for roses and that's mainly because Rose is one of Gabi's middle names (and as you can see, there is a rose in the silver vase on top of the DVD player...I know...nothing says love like a DVD player). But the coolest part about that painting is that Gabi painted it and it's the most beautiful painting I've ever seen. It even sparkles!

And here's my beautiful baby! She is just as sweet and wonderful as she seems. And yes, that is a green fire truck and don't be all "Oh, Texas is so weird blah blah blah" because that fire truck is from Pennsylvania so bite me. Ain't she sweet? 

Finally! A picture of me! Trying to figure out this whole picture posting thing...sorry if it sucks. 

I say they both shut up

Grr at UPN for giving me a Veronica Mars rerun tonight due to the Vice Presidential Debate! They're all of a sudden concerned with our citizenship? Psha. Are they trying to MAKE me watch it by making sure there's nothing else on? Grr at all of cable! I might try out Nip/Tuck at 9 if the munchkin is in bed.

So earlier, I was watching Last Comic Standing. How come I get a funny feeling every time Dave Mordal gets on stage? Why do I find him so strangely sexy? He's way too old for me, married, has messy hair, looks like he's probably too short for me, bathes with Rich Vos and sort of looks like a turtle.....which only goes to prove that despite all of these things, if you can make me laugh...truly make me laugh like toss my head back in uncontrollable laughter to the point where I have to catch my breath....you can probably get in my pants.

Let's see how long I can stand the VP Debate before I need the mute button. I have to say that I've made it farther than in the Presidential debate (30 seconds). I like them sitting down better than standing up. They just seem less combative. Andrew, the co-parent, suggested earlier that I plop Gabi down in front of it and maybe she'd go to bed early. I'm not sure I want to subject my innocent child to that. Dude! John Edwards has got that Clinton thumb "I'm totally making a point right now" thing down! It's uncanny! I lasted 16 minutes. Hm, Andrew just called and we heckled the debate for like, 20 minutes. I swear, we can fight like cats and dogs for 3 years straight, but an election year rolls around and we're the best of friends. For some reason, our politics line up almost exactly and what we disagree on, I have to admit that I am no match for him politically. Usually I'm all "Oops, another call, gotta go." Hee!

Oh, hey, I've been working on my dumb blonde impression (YES it's just an act! Smartasses). I'm going back to my natural color (medium-dark brown) soon, at least temporarily, so I have to get it out of my system:

You guys! John Edwards and Clay Aiken have the same accent! Wow!

Cuddly Teddy Bear Bitch

So I did it. I was nice. I extended the alcoholic olive branch. I had a drink sent over to Captain Kangaroo. Know what I got in return? A "thank you" yelled across the parking lot when I wasn't even paying attention. And by the time I figured it out and could react, he was already looking away and did not see my gesture basically expressing my thought of "what the fuck?" Why can't he just come up to me? I am the most harmless human EVER! I'm not going to start any fires where there are none. I do not create drama. I just want my fucking favorite jacket back! I want it BACK! Brad said he'd talk to him about it. That's sweet. But my stance is, he should quit being a pussy and just talk to me! How hard is this to figure out? What does he think I'm going to do? Start yelling and berating him? It'd probably be more like, hey how ya doin, is there a good time when I can stop by? I am not in the business of showing up to places unnanounced so I will not accept the cop-out answer of "you know where I live, just show up and get it." I think I've proven beyond all reasonable doubt that I can be mature about this and be nice and diplomatic. I do not harrass him, I do not call or text-message, I do not show up at his table mainly because I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin his night, so to speak. Maybe he's due, though. He's the one that said he wanted to be friends yet he will only barely acknowledge my existence (which I suppose is better than none at all - pleh). He has ruined more than one night for me. Such a fine line between being agressive as to not be walked upon and just being a flaming bitch/psycho. And really, that line is defined by the person that I'm trying not to cross that line with and I don't know where the hell that line is. It's probably back in March somewhere. And they say women are hard to figure out.

Ass.