Some Days You're The Mouse, Some Days You're The Printer
Don't worry, the mouse wasn't dead - he was just really freaking stuck!! (Yes, I'm sick enough to think this is hilarious!! Hee hee hee!)
Reason # 396 Why Dodges Are The Best Trucks On The Market:
My truck cold started at 30 below this morning. My baby rocks!
I forgot to pull my truck back into the garage last nite after the guys pulled the fireplace insert upstairs. As I completely spaced pulling my poor baby back into the garage and wasn't planning on having it outside all nite, my truck wasn't plugged in, either. For those of you who don't know, Fairbanks is Freezing Ass Cold in the winter, (yes, that is a technical term) and if you have a vehicle here you have to have a block heater (and a battery blanket, which is optional) installed on your rig. At nite, when it's 20 above or colder, you plug your block heater into an outlet outside your house, and the block heater keeps your vehicle from freezing up when the temperature drops to Freeze Your Eyelashes Off. (a.k.a below zero) If you forget to plug your vehicle in and it's colder than - 20, 99.9% of the time it won't start in the morning and you'll be SOL. (Another techincal term.) BUT MY TRUCK STARTED!!!! True, it made an ear-drum shattering, horrible screeching sound, but it started. Which is more than I can say for the POS 2003 Tundra Shorty brought home the other nite which wouldn't start at -35 plugged in. Thereby, proving my point that Dodges rock and everything else is crap.
(I'll post an entry about how much I love watching Jake Plummer cry in a bit.)
This could have been me!
I received this email story from a friend, and now consider myself duly warned. I just thought I'd pass it on (along with the requisite commentary in blue.) The crap we chicks put ourselves through to look hot!One Woman's Tale of WoeAll hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy,painless removal - The epilady, (which was invented by the Devil) scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax. My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, playwith the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mindfor the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of themedicine cabinet. (I, too, have had this seemingly innocent thought prance through my head.) "So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. (Which sounds too good to be true, as it goes completely against everything that nature intended.) No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel themapart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get outthe hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire. With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneakback into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my who-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious... Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal. I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me somuch pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX??? (Ut-oh!)Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I am touching wax.CRAP! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.Then I make the next BIG mistake... remember my foot is still propped up onthe toilet? I know I need to do something. (NOO!! Don't do it!!!) So I put my foot down. (She did it.)DAMN!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. Vagina? Sealed shut! Butt?? Sealed shut! (NICE!)I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!"What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off,right???*WRONG!!!!!!!*I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit. Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, ishaving them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax. So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to havea phone put in the bathroom!!!!!I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - "So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or who-ha?"She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown andshe suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night. We go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!! By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to loseat this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!!The scream probably woke the kids and scared the crap out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care. " It works!! IT WORKS!! " I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point. Next week I'm going to try hair color......As Rhonda so aptly put it, 'wax is for candles! And after reading this, it will stay that way for me.' Amen, sister!
Turtle Farts
Ever notice how your farts after eating prime rib at the Turtle Club smell exactly like the prime rib from the Turtle Club? Not that I was the one doing the farting! Oh, no. Not me. I'm sweet, innocent and lady-like. I don't fart. Shorty, on the other hand, makes Scooby and Shaggy look like amatures.One of Shorty's buddies gave him a gift certificate for the Turtle Club, so we met Warren and Sheilah out there last nite and stuffed ourselves! The Turtle Club is a restaurant in Fox, which is just outside of Fairbanks, and they serve THE BEST prime rib in the known universe. The place looks like a typical back-woods Alaskan restaurant. It's a sketchy-looking building with sloping floors and a huge, unpaved parking lot. There are pine wreaths wrapped in white Christmas lights adorning the inside walls year round, the floors are creaky, the service is usually great and the food is spectacular. You'll see rough necks in flannel and yuppies in dress clothes. The menu, servers and cooks haven't changed in years and there is only one reason you go to the Turtle Club - big, bad ass prime rib. The menu is very limited and consists of the typical Alaskan seafood fare (halibut chunks, scallops, prawns, shrimp and escargot) and prime rib, with a few random appetizers (zucchini sticks and cheese sticks) thrown in. The salad bar is awesome, they have a great selection of wine, and, naturally, they serve Bud Lite, which is all the boys really needed. I plowed my way through escargot while Shorty munched on ginormous zucchini sticks and Warren and Sheilah shared cheese sticks and shrimp cocktail. We hit up the salad bar after ordering our prime rib, well, with the exception of Warren, who completely broke the rules and ordered halibut chunks, (halibut chunks????? seriously!) and were so full by the time our entrees arrived that we managed a few bites before tapping out and getting to-go boxes. Our server must have some deal going with the Devil, because we were completely stuffed but Warren, Sheilah and I ordered dessert to-go off the dessert tray. After waddling back to the truck and fighting to stay awake during the 30 minute trip back home, Shorty and I passed out on the couch in a prime-rib enduced coma before stumbling to bed about 10:30. (Yeah, let's see how long you last after stuffing yourself until you almost pop!)This morning I was awakened by the tantalizing aroma of Turtle Club prime rib - until I realized the aroma was wafting up from the sheets and Shorty was giggling like a little girl. The kittens had the right idea - they bolted as soon as they heard Shorty bust ass, and I followed, crawling on all fours on the floor and out of the room in order to breath in as much untainted air as possible. ETA on Project: Eat All The Leftovers Before Shorty Gets Home And Devoures Them, Subjecting Me To Further Torture-By-Butt, 6:30 p.m.
Things I never thought I'd have to say to my boyfriend:
"Shorty, get the cat's head out of your mouth!"Poor Ariel.
I am a very responsible drinker
It's occured to me that I've discussed being drunk on multiple occasions in my blog. And I've only had it for a couple of months. As many of my family memebers read this, and I have a healthy fear of the beatings they can deal out, I've been rather careful in censoring my language and content to maintain that image of sweet, adorable innocence that I've painstakingly cultivated over the past 27 years. But every once in a while I'll read Stephaine's or Rit's blog, become my normal obnixious, crude, sassy self, and it will be reflected in my posts. That's why I've decided to dedicate this post to assuring my family that, while I do, in fact, on occasion, drink an alcoholic beverage or two, (or twelve) I am a very responsible drinker. (We'll deal with my despicable habit of cursing like a sailor in another post.)
Most of the time that I drink, it's at my home. Alone. While reading fashion magazines depicting air-brushed models that will always be prettier, smarter and more fashionable than I. Okay, not really. Hee hee! Wow, this whole 'admitting your sins' thing is fun! When do we get to the porn star career and gun running? Really, though, most of the time we're drinking, we've invited a few friends over and we're playing fun drinking games like poker, Scene It, Russian Roulette, Ride The Moose Walking Across The Front Yard and Jump Off The Roof And Into The Snow Burm Before The Snow Plow Gets There, or watching incredibly violent things like boxing and Ultimate Fighting. We have a very nice guest room which I've dedicated two days of my life decorating and several couches as well as a nice selection of fuzzy blankies and sleeping bags, so in the event that someone's had a little too much to drink, they can always stay the nite and head home in the morning. (This way they're still around The Day After to clean up the mess in the bath tub . . . . ) The majority of the time we have designate drivers (like Sheilah) who decide to remain sober in order to (apply a black permanent marker to the face and portruding body parts of the first sucker who passes out) play chauffer for those of us who've decided to get inebriated. (Ohh, ooh, pick me! Pick me!)On the occasion that we decide to go somewhere outside of our home and drink, I continue my endevour to be a responsible drinker by doing several things. I always put double sided sticky tape on the inside of my underwear. This makes peeing a bit difficult, but who won't end up embarrassing her boyfriend by stripping down and dancing bucky ass nekkid on top of the first available table or bar? Me, that's who. Because I'm a responsible drinker. I also mark my beer or cup so I'll know which is mine. How is this being responsible? Well, by marking my beverage I don't sustain the risk of forgetting which drink is mine and grabbing the closest cup and swigging down the backwash of some random party-goer. See, I'm a responsible drinker.I also make sure that my toenails are nicely painted before leaving the house. That's right, I'll never be caught having to bare a nasty, chipped pedicure because I had to remove my shoes after barfing on them. Why? Because no one likes a messy-footed drunk, and I'm a responsible drinker.And finally, I always make sure to have some form of ID on me in case I pass out and am found by one of the three people in Fairbanks who don't know who I am. I usually have my college ID in my back pocket, but I've also found it very helpful to print the phrase "If found drunk and passed out, please return to Shorty Williams at *insert my address here*' on my forehead in permanent marker.So, now that I've finally admitted to my family that I do, in fact, drink, I hope I've calmed all your fears with this truthful, honest, forthcoming post about why I am a responsible drinker.(The picture is of me enjoying a frosty cold Miller Lite, which I no longer drink, because it tastes like ass. I HEART BUD LITE!)
I am a very understanding girlfriend
How many other girlfriends would simply laugh and shake their heads if they found a piece of paper in their boyfriend's pockes stating 'For a good blow job call xxx-xxxx?'Derek has surprisingly good handwriting for a guy.Our friends have sick senses of humor. Which is why I love them.
How To Paint Your Kitten Blue, and other fun holiday tales
Okay, here comes the big, long catch-up post. If you have the attention span of a two year old, or you don't feel particularly compelled to read about me blathering on about the incredible excitement of my past couple of weeks, feel free to hit that little 'next blog' button at the top of the page. I'll understand. Bastards . . . sniff . . . I finally finished painting Megyn's room, and it looks freaking awesome, if I say so myself. And I do. Yes, I am that good. The top half of the walls I did in a pale pink color wash, and the bottome half I did in a lavender color wash, so the paint is all swirly and looks really, really cool. The boarder (freaking pain in my ass summummabitch . . . ) is the Hugs N Kisses boarder from Lowe's and it's pale pink and lavender. The cute little silver curtain rods I got have pink jewels on the ends of them, and her curtains are pink. I hunted down the perfect comforter - at Walmart of all places - in pink with lavender accents and cool glittery stars. I got her soft lavender sheets and Auntie Nicole got her a cool purple throw pillow for Christmas. I also took a strand of the rope lights we had lying around and wrapped the strand around the rails of her loft bed. It looks super, super cool. So her room is finished and it's bad ass! I took pictures, but I haven't gotten them developed yet because we still live in the dark ages and haven't bought a digital camera. I have 8 million rolls of film I need to take to Safeway.I got all that done before Christmas, and I busted my butt to finish it. Since I'd been at the painting thing for a couple of days and couldn't be bothered to clean, and Shorty is a typical male who firmly believes that the middle of the living room is where his dirty socks belong, our house resembled nuclear waste dump site. After I shoveled out our house, scrubbed, polished and waxed until everything was gleaming, I was totally in the mood for some relaxation, so we spent the next few evenings doing dinner and movies with friends. Christmas Eve nite we went over to Rob & Terra's absolutely amazing house, met Terra's parents and hung out with them for a bit before heading to Bobbi and Aaron's, where a bunch of our softball buddies were chillin. It was so good to see everyone. I keep forgetting how freaking weird Shorty is when he's around the guys. They kept us rolling on the floor laughing all nite. I'm still sticking with my opinion that Shorty's farts are way worse than Aaron's. Don't ask, just trust me. Bobbi got me hooked on Bombay Sapphire gin and tonics, which I've never really liked before. I got ripped on for sucking down an 'old person drink' and had to endure snarky comments from Shorty while he was chugging But Lite. I only have one thing to say - I wasn't the one with a hang over Christmas Day, now, was I? Let's play I win!Christmas day we packed up The Kid and the truck and headed to Delta to spend the nite with Shorty's family there. We started at his Mom and Mike's house, opened presents and stuffed our faces before dumping Sam with the kids and heading over to Shorty and Nicki's Uncle Dale and Aunt Debbie's house. I'd never met them before, so I was a little nervous, but they were hysterically funny and we had a blast. We got back to Nicki and Sam's, threw the kids in the bath tub, got them off to bed and then spent the nite playing Scattegories. I dare you to think of another beer besides Koakanee that starts with the letter 'K.' The one important thing I learned from that weekend; Uncle Dale makes a mean Long Island Iced Tea!Monday saw us heading back to Fairbanks. Nicki, Sam and the kids spent a couple of days with us since Tylor had a hockey tourney in Fairbanks, and his hockey team ended up winning the tournament, which was awesome! The rest of the week we hung out with friends and went to dinner a lot because I had about had it with trying to keep the house clean. It was clean, it was staying that way and I was done.Saturday afternoon (Dec 31) I learned another important lesson about painting with kittens in the house. I would have sworn on Shorty's life that the two furballs were downstairs in the family room, so I carried my little paint tray up the stairs to our bedroom, set it on a chair, and turned around to shut the door and lock them out. I looked down and there was Jazz, sitting at my feet blinking at me in that sweet, innocent, I'm-not-up-to-anything-and-I'm-adorable way that he has. Apparently my kittens can beam themselves as well as communicate telepathically. I picked him up to take him out of the bedroom and turned just in time to see Ariel jump onto the chair and land with all four paws squarely in the middle of the paint tray. The very full paint tray. Powder blue paint splattered everywhere! I dropped Jazz, snagged Ariel and rushed to the bathroom, dripping pale blue paint all along the carpet. The next 20 minutes was spent rinsing and drying off my very upset baby kitten. Jazz followed me into the bathroom, so I was able to lock him in with me and not have to worry about him playing in the paint. So now I have a very fluffy, clean, fuzzy gray princess and huge paint splatters in my carpet. Any ideas on how to remove paint? If they work, I'll send Shorty to your house to cook and clean for a month. (You don't want me, trust me. I burn water.) I started in on painting our bedroom walls and made sure Thing 1 and Thing 2 were locked out before attempt #2. They sat at the bedroom door and meowed and pawed at the bottom of the door until Shorty came home to entertain them. I know, I'm so abusive. Spoiled little crap heads . . . I finished slathering paint on the walls, hopped in the shower and we headed to John and Jill Cole's house for New Year's Eve, where we started the festivities off with Beer Pong. Nat and Jill were the reinging 5 time champs, and Shorty and I tried to take them on but we lost by one cup both games. We managed to lay the smack on Bobbi and Aaron, though! It was the Giants (they're both over 6 feet) vs the Shortys (Shorty's 5'6", I'm 5'5") and we pounded on them! There were several rounds of jell-O shots slurped down between games. At first I tried to be all lady-like and delicate, and after a few beers and Jell-O shots I gave it up and used my fingers. I also managed to spill beer down the front of my shirt, so I was wet, sticky and smelled like the inside of a keg, and we hadn't even been there two hours. God, I missed partying with our softball friends!! Our poker tourney was interrupted by the count down and after we did the drunken 'hug and kiss all your friends and tell them how much you love them' routine we stumbled back to the table and I won Shorty a butt load of money. We were all set to stay and John & Jill's but Collen and Justin offered to give us a ride home so they could check out the house, and that's when I discovered that I should probably be drunk every time someone comes to visit, because our house wasn't sparklingly clean like I usually try to keep it, and I didn't give a damn! That's the first time I haven't scrambled to make sure everything was picked up before company came over and the first time I wasn't worried that someone wouldn't think our house was clean enough. (I have a seriously unhealthy house cleaning issue. Everything must be clean and I will not have people over unless the house is picked up. I'm very anal, obsessive and psycho about this, and I feel really bad for Shorty because I'm constantly cleaning.) There was left over pizza on the counter, towels laying on the bathroom floor and my curling iron was out on the counter and I really didn't care! It was great!After we recovered and The Kid got dropped off, I finished my faux finish on our bedroom walls on Sunday. (I ragged on cream colored paint, but I did it really lightly, so our walls are pale blue and streaky. It looks like of like the sky. It actually came out perfectly!) Shorty had to work on Monday, but I had the day off, (HAHA!!!) so, after re-arranging our bedroom, I ran around to Lowe's and Jo Ann fabrics for the finishing touches. So our bedroom is done! And I love it!!! The walls are a pale powder blue and the curtains are eggplant colored and they fall to the floor on both windows. It's actually a really cool combination. I was a little worried, but it looks awesome. Our bedspread is pale blue with eggplant colored accents, so it goes really well. You almost don't notice the ugly deep blue carpet! My favorite thing in the room is the vanity, though. We had this table that we were using for the computer before we got the computer desk, and an old mirror framed in really dark wood, and there was this huge space on wall in our bedroom. I didn't want to clutter up the wall with pictures and cover my pretty paint job, but I had no idea what to do with that space. I got rowdy watching HGTV one afternoon and saw that they were making a vanity. (Yes, sometimes I do watch HGTV. Don't tell - it'll ruin my bad ass image!) Well, I sprayed some texture on the frame of the mirror and then sponged eggplant and pale blue paint over the texture. Then I hit up JoAnn fabrics for some satiny eggplant colored material, which I draped over the table. I put a couple of cute little picture frames up, and now I have a cute little vanity! Only, the chick at the fabric store is retarded and gave me waaaay too much fabric, so I covered the kittens' bed and seat cushion on the whicker chair in our room with the remainder of the fabric. It looks awesome! Now all I need to do is finish the kitchen, living room, downstairs family room and upstairs hallway bathroom. Sigh . . . .
First Update of 2006! And it's creepy!
Okay, creepy client reaking of alcohol and breath mints just grilled me on how I liked working here, if I missed working at Wells Fargo, (I haven't been there for 4 years!) if I was married, because he didn't remember my last name being Brown, who Shorty was, (I have some of his business cards on my desk) if we were serious, asked me where our house was when I replied that we're pretty serious since we just bought a house together last summer, (I gave him a vauge answer about it being in the University West area) and asked if the house was nice, to which I replied yes, it's huge, I love it and I admitted that I'm currently repaiting when he asked about the paint flecks on my nails. I've seen this guy maybe four times, barely remember him and I'm a little creeped out. We were way finished with his transaction so it wasn't like he was trying to make small talk while I was working on something for him. Thank God the phone rang, and I stayed on the line a little longer than I needed to as he seemed intent on staying until I was done. He finally left, and I think I have a contact buzz.I have a 63 year old stalker! Sa-WEET!!!
