I am officially a wino
I got called out by a 6 year old.Shorty and I were helping Megyn with some homework, and we had to help her think of things to spell that started with the letter 'W.' Me, being the brilliant individual that I am, tried to prompt her into thinking of the word 'water.' "Megyn," I whispered, "what word starts with 'W' that I like to drink a lot?""WINE!!!" Megyn gleefully shouted.Yeah, called out.
My Dream Truck
I discovered my dream truck quite by accident. Not that I don't love my cute red baby, but it's a 2 door extended cab, and reaching around the driver's seat, dragging my bat bag out of the back bench seat and managing all this without hitting my truck or the vehicle next to me is kind of a pain. So is dragging out Shorty's daughter, groceries, dead bodies or anything else that I may end up storing in the back seat. I ended up driving one of Shorty's demos to softball one nite last summer and it was a 4 door and I was totally amazed at how much easier it was to drag all my stuff out of the back seat. I decided that I might start checking out 4 doors, but I hadn't really found anything I liked, until that fateful day that I drove home from softball and found My Dream Truck parked in Shorty's parking spot. It's a red (naturally) Dodge Dakota, 4 door, 4WD and has all the bells and whistles that my cute red baby doesn't have. Plus, it has chrome accents. *whimper* I drooled all over my dusty softball jersey as I stumbled in disbelief around this stunningly HOTT piece of metal in my driveway. I tried to crawl inside and cuddle, but Shorty had cold-heartedly locked the doors, banning me from curling into the driver's seat and purring.I rushed into the house to inform Shorty that I would be trading my cute red baby truck in the next morning and taking posession of the seriously sexy red 4 door Dakota in our driveway, (and to yell at him for cruelly not informing me that My Dream Truck was on the lot!) when he blithely crushed my dreams and shattered my heart by telling me that that afternoon, merely four hours after My Dream Truck was put on the lot, he sold it. I was devestated and cried myself to sleep, sobbing into my damp pillow while thinking about some loser shmuck who was going to be driving off in My Dream Truck. (Okay, I didn't cry, but I was incredulous and slightly pissed.Okay, more than slightly. I may have thrown a teeny tiny tempertantrum. Or three. For the next week. Or two.)So imagine my shock, surprise and insane happiness when Shorty told me yesterday that the guy who bought My Dream Truck had decided that he wanted to trade it in sometime around May and buy his wife a larger 4 door F150!!!! SO I MIGHT HAVE MY DREAM TRUCK IN MAY!!!!! I know, most people don't trade in their vehicles for an older model than the one they have, but this truck is so hot . . . . And it will be mine, oh, yes, it will!
Poker is STUPID!!!
But only because I lost my butt Saturday nite. If I had four Queens, some jerk (namely Jimmy!) would have four Kings . . . if I had a boat, say kings over nines, someone would have aces over fives . . . I honestly couldn't win a damn hand to save my life and ended up losing all of my quarters. I'm chosing to take this as a sign. They boys wanted their money back, I gave it back to them, and I'm done. For a while, anyway. I hate losing. :(Boxing on Thursday was fun! I felt kinda bad bailing on soccer and volleyball since I got some nasty calls on the cell phone, but we won all our games, so everyone should be happy now. :PFriday nite I just stayed at home, relaxed, snuggled with the kittens and read.Saturday I picked Sheilah up and we ran wedding errands. I don't want to talk about Saturday nite anymore . . . . Sunday Shorty, Megyn and I ran errands and went to Katie's birthday party, which was fun. We dropped Megyn off at her mom's house around 7, hit up the Fox for a bacon burger for Shorty and a Chicken Caesar Salad for me, (they have THE BEST CCSs ever!!) and we got the first two season of Family Guy. Didn't watch any, though, because Family Guy was on TV.Yeah, you read that right - I didn't get a single swipe of painting done. We did pick out some samples, though, so tonite we'll steam the wallpaper off the one small wall and get everything ready and tomorrown nite I'll get all jacked up on paint fumes before my soccer game at 9! Woo hoo!
People who have sucky blogs shouldn't give them funny, interesting names.
Because, naturally, that inspires me to check the shit out, and it's so dissapointing when I realize I've completely wasted my time flipping through pages of un-funny, mindless blather. A good way to lift your spirits is to suck down an entire Thai Iced Coffee in less than a minute. Life. Is. Now. Good. (But, dear God, am I FULL!)I haven't updated in a while because I've been insanely busy. Let's see - last Friday nite was spend at the Berg's with Kev, Genevieve, Robyn & Dougie Fresh drinking Corona, watching the Olympics, playing Yahtzee and engaging in one of my most favoritest activities ever - Bag On Doug. It was beautiful. It's been a running joke that Doug is gay, which he's not, but that's entirely beside the point. There are times when Doug is more of a girl than I am. This happened a lot on Friday nite, and, naturally, being the kind, caring friends that we are, we pounced on that shit at every opportunity and now have conclusive evidence that Doug is gay. Yes, we may be in our late twenties and early thirties, but we still act like 5-year-olds.Saturday I ordered my brides maids dress for Sheilah's wedding. It's absolutely gorgeous and I can't wait to wear it!! Here's a link. The color is coral, which should make me look super tan! Our shoes will be white with coral-colored crystals. They're cute, strappy and have a 3 inch heel, which means I will be towering over Shorty. Oh, yes, I will! (He'll hate it - he makes me take off my boots every nite before he'll give me a welcome-home kiss. This is gonna be FUN!)Saturday nite we had a few people over for poker and I hit the wall about 1 a.m. Seriously, I was falling asleep at the table. I'm such a Sally!Sunday we . . . . wow, what did we do Sunday? Yeah, that's how exciting that was. Oh, I remember! Nicki, Sam and the kids came down on Saturday to go skiing and watch the hockey game, so they spent the nite on Saturday nite and headed home on Sunday, so I got to hang with them for a little bit before I shoveled out the downstairs and did damage control. Boys must have some kind of mental block against throwing empty beer cans in the garbage can sitting two feet away from them.Tomorrow is boxing!!! Then I have big plans to paint the downstairs on Saturday so we can finally get the mural up and mount the flat screen onto the wall. All our cute tropical decorations came in as of yesterday, so Saturday and Sunday will be spent turning the downstairs poker room into a Tiki Bar!Heading home to work out . . . . tired . . . . need sleepy . . . .
Valentine's Day - Shmalentine's Day
I've been giving this whole Valentine's Day thing some thought, (and now my head hurts) and I've come to a conclusion - what's the point? Seriously. If you don't have someone, you have that one special day of the year to feel like a complete loser who is fated to be alone for the rest of his/her life, and you get obnoxious invitations to all those horrifying Lonely Hearts mixers. If you do have someone, the both of you are under a little pressure, and the nite could end wonderfully, or it could end in a great big, nasty, crying fight because someone didn't make enough of an effort to make the evening pink, fuzzy and wonderful.
I have a pretty good guy. He's not too stinky, (except when he eats cabbage or steak) he rarely leaves shavings in the sink, he ALWAYS puts the seat back down (where it belongs) and he cooks. We both have pretty packed schedules, but we still make time to do little things like go out to dinner by ourselves and take random drives. So why would I want to put him on the spot by demanding that he make this one day absolutely perfect? It's not like it's going to be a big surprise or anything. Oh, LOOK!!! I got roses on Valentine's Day!! Gee, I wasn't expecting that! (Not that it isn't really appreciated!) What I'm going for there is that a chick generally expects to get flowers, chocolate or both, so it's nice when you get it, but very dissapointing when you don't. And when you don't, you start re-evaluating your relationship: "Doesn't he care about me? He didn't get me anything. Everyone else got something for Valentine's Day and my sweetie didn't get me a single thing, I'm so embarrassed, he doesn't love me anymore, maybe he's going to break up with me, I should break up with him before he breaks up with me, maybe he's cheating on me, he probably got his other girfriend flowers and now she's showing off roses that should have been mine, that two-timing son-of-a-" and that's when a holiday for lovers goes terribly, terribly wrong.
Generally, the guy is expected to bust out flowers, chocolate and a nice, expensive dinner. Okay, has anyone actually ever had a nice, relaxing, fun-filled dinner when they go out on Valentine's Day?? Most of the time the service sucks because the waitstaff are stressed and grouchy, the food sucks because everyone and their sister has decided to go out to dinner and the kitchen is totally back up and slammed, and the restaurant owner always feels the need to throw in an extra couple of tables to fit in more diners, so you're packed into a three-foot space like sardines in a can. It takes you two hours to get your food and by the time your server slaps it onto the table your steak is dry and your veggies have a nice layer of char on them from being under the heat lamp for 20 minutes because your server was busy running around refilling beverages and dropping off other orders.
And God help the boyfriend whose girlfriend is expecting a ring and doesn't get it! I still think that proposals on Valentine's Day are incredibly cheesy and unoriginal. What, you couldn't think of a better setting to pop the question? You had to wait for Hallmark to set the moment for you?
Don't even get me started on the chocolates! Candy seems to be an integral part of Valentine's Day, but should it be? The most popular New Year's Resolution is to lose weight. So, a month and a half into it, we're going to toss in a holiday dedicated to candy??? And I'm sure the thought running through most guys' heads when they hand over that big box of chocolates to their sweethearts and watch them plow through it like a pig in slop is, "Yup, that's going straight to her ass." Summer is only a couple of months away and I plan on spending an obscene amount of time laying around by the lake in a bikini. The last thing I need is a gigantice piece of chocolate that will find a permanent home on my thighs.
On the other hand, it is hard to discount that warm, fuzzy feeling you get when the florist cruises into your office with a big bouquet of flowers and calls your name . . . Over all, though, I'd rather have my boyfriend randomly send me flowers or take me out to dinner. It just seems to make everything more special when you get surprised with a nite out. Besides, my Valentine's Day sucked last year because I didn't get the flowers and chocolates. I know my boyfriend loves me, so why should I be so freaked out and let it ruin my day when I don't get the romantic nite out, the flowers that will die in a week and the big chocolate heart that will go straight to my thighs? I have a boyfriend who considers getting me a $300 bat for my birthday because he knows it will mean more than flowers, who cooks amazing dinners almost every nite, who doesn't mind snuggling on the couch with the kittens and watching movies and who know what kind of wine I like. I think I've got it pretty good, and I don't need a cheesy holiday to prove it.
*** Shorty, if you do get me flowers and candy and take me out to dinner, I'll still love you. ***
You Might Be From Fairbanks If:
If your local McDonalds blew up trying to heat up, you might live in Fairbanks Alaska. If you instinctively walk like a penguin for seven months out of the year, you might live in Fairbanks Alaska. If your dad's suntan stops at a line curving around the middle of his forehead, you might live in Fairbanks Alaska. If you have ever worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you might live in Fairbanks Alaska. If your town has an equal number of bars and churches, you might live in Fairbanks Alaska. (Actually, I think the bars outnumber the churches now . . . . ) YOU KNOW YOU ARE A TRUE Fairbanksian WHEN: 1. Vacation means going to Hawaii in Jan/Feb. 2. You measure distance in hours. (I know that it's about 5 1/2 hours to Anchorage, but I have no idea how many miles it is!)3. You know several people who have hit a Moose more than once. 4. You often switch from heat to AC in the same day and back again. 5. You can drive 65 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard, without flinching.6. You carry jumper cables in your car and your girlfriend knows how to use them. (Yes, I do)7. You design your kids Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit. (Or over Carharts)8. Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow. 9. You know all 5 seasons: Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter, Road Construction, and It's Hot. 10. Your idea of creative landscaping is a statue of a Moose next to your spruce.11. Down south means Anchorage to you. 12. You have more miles on your snow blower than your car. 13. You find 0 degrees a "little chilly".
February 5th, 2006 - THE STEELERS WIN THE SUPER BOWL!!!
WA HOO!!! GO STEELERS!!!!Yeah, okay, so it wasn't my Chiefies, and yeah, the Steelers' win earlier in the season put my boys out of the Playoffs. I'm still glad they won - mainly because Shorty is a rabid Steelers fan and if I didn't cheer for them I would be kicked out of the house and forced to live on the street, selling my hair clippings for a Big Mac. Also, I like the Steelers. They've been my second favorite team for about 6 years, and I love Jerome Bettis, so their win was pretty sweet. It also makes Shorty a little easier to live with. It's awful to see a 35 year old man whine, pout and cry, and since that's exactly what would have happened if the Seahawks had won, I'd say it's a good thing Big Ben pulled his head out of his butt and managed to bust out a few good plays for the win.Yes, I'll admit that the refs made some really cheesy, questionable calls and Big Ben seemed afraid to throw the ball for the first half of the game. Bettis did well, but I totally think Hines Ward deserved the MVP. Randle Ele is The Shit and further confirmed my opinion that when Ben was out during the season, Bill Cowher should have just bypassed Turnover Tommy Maddox and Charlie Batch and put Randle Ele in as QB. That pass to Hines in the end zone was absolutely perfect.For those of you who have a few arguments regarding the game, let me put those to rest. First, yes, it was a touchdown, the ball did cross the plane in the air, although it landed short of the line when Ben hit the ground. Get a pair of glasses and watch the replay again. Second, Darrell Jackson did push off of Chris Hope. I'll admit that it was a cheesy call and the push off was slight and couldn't have given Jackson much, if any, of an advantage, but it was still a blatant push off. Third, yes, it did seem that the Hawks were playing against the Steelers as well as the refs, but if their kicker, Brown, can't blame his pitiful performance on anyone but himself.Another football season ends, and it was a perfect ending for Jerome's career. Ben needs to buck up a little more under the pressure, Bill Cowher still scares the crap out of me & Hines Ward would have been robbed if they had given the MVP to Bettis. I still maintain that next year will be my Chiefies' year, even though our new head coach is a little nutty.
I Think I Might Be A Boy
For the past 27 years I've been firm in my belief that I am a chick, but now Shorty's starting to make me wonder. He's brought a few past experiences to my attention to support this new theory, and I'll have to admit, the evidence is pretty damning.Exhibit A: Roy & Terra's Christmas Eve Party; Roy offered us drinks and motioned us over to the plethora of adult beverages spread over the counter. I indicated that I'd prefer a beer. Shorty tried to urge me to have a glass of wine, which I would normally go for but, honestly, at that time a cold Corona sounded really good. I didn't realize it at the time, but, while all the other women were in the living room in their cute little dresses, drinking wine and really nice champagne punch and talking about whatever it is that girls talk about when they get together in small herds, I was in the kitchen with the guys, in my black pinstriped dress pants and a sweater, drinking beer and talking about snowmachines, football and Arctic Man. (In my defense, I was having a kick ass hair nite, I had on my new jewelry that Shorty bought me for Christmas and the sweater was a fitted pale blue v-neck, so I was showing off a tan and a tiny bit of cleavage. Tasteful cleavage, not porno cleavage.)Exhibit B: UFC vs Girl Party; I declined an invitation to one of those girly purse parties where everyone sits around, munches tiny sandwiches and ooohs and aaahhhhs over cute little purses (At least, I think that's what goes on - it can't really be much more exciting than that.) in favor of sprawling in front of the TV with a plate full of meatballs and a beer and watching a UFC fight on pay-per-view. That's right, I would rather see a couple of guys pounding on each other than be trapped in a room with giggling, simpering females fighting over an ugly piece of leather.Exhibit C: Softball season; I turn into a boy during softball season. I'm dirty, dusty, and I'm always at the softball complex playing ball, teasingly insulting the umps and other players and spitting seeds. I schlump around with my hair pulled back, a visor on my head, Oakleys perched on my nose and my idea of after-game down time is meeting up with our softball buddies at the Red Fox for a beer and bragging session about awesome catches and ripping balls past the outfielders. Sometimes I'll throw on a clean shirt, but most of the time we just show up in our stinky softball clothes.Exhibit D: Boxing; Since Shorty got me thinking on the subject, I've been comparing my behavior to that of other chicks, and I've noticed that I act a little differently at Thursday Night Fights. Yeah, I get dressed up, fix my hair and slap on some make-up, but that's pretty much where the similarities end. You'll see other girls sitting at their tables checking out guys, drooling over a hot boxer's chest and sipping girly Smirnoff watermelon drinks as they plot their next foray past a table of cute boys and into the bathroom. I'll be the chick at the front of the table washing my burger down with a beer and screaming, "UPPER CUT!! USE YOUR UPPER CUT," " COME ON, PRINCESS, HIT HIM," or "PICK UP YOUR SKIRT AND THROW A DAMN PUNCH, SALLY!!!" I think that's why Shorty agreed to start reffing the matches - he gets a little more distance from me that way.Exhibit E: Morning TV; While other chicas have E! News or the Regis and Kelly show for background noise while they get ready in the morning, I listen to Sports Center and Cold Pizza. While I will admit to a rather embarrassing addiction to gossip blogs, US Weekly and I can tell you that K-Fed's pathetic attempt at a rap album is the joke of the Internet (and rightly so!), Sienna Miller and Jude Law are apparently still having issues, if recent pictures of her snuggling up to Hayden Christensen are any indication, and Jessica needs to bail on the Maroon 5 duder and go back to Nick, who is incredibly hot, sweet and loves her, I'd rather be talking about the Steelers' chances on taking the Super Bowl and the fact that, while Lofa Tatupu is a great player in his own right and may generally play a little closer to the front line and the 'action,' I think Troy Palomalu will be more of a force in the backfield, picking off passes and laying bitches out. (On a side note, I still think it was garbage that Antonio Davis got a 5 game suspension for rushing into the stands. He saw some commotion going on around his wife - give the guy a break!)Exhibit F: The above picture of me after a soccer game; My hair's pulled back, I'm sweaty and nasty, and I really think I look like a boy. None of the other chicks on my team looked as masculine and gross. Hell, Mel even had cute little pigtails going on! (I'd include the whole team photo, but I'm not sure how excited everyone would be at the prospect of being immortalized on La Blog.)Now Shorty's got me all paraniod and freaked out. I've been disecting my behavior and actions and now I think I'm developing a complex. Maybe a nice pizza and a cold beer will help . . . . I wonder if there's a game on . . .
What the . . . ???
I've busted out at least three posts that aren't showing up. ??? Apparenty, blogger hates me.On the bright side, it's only -16 below and the internet radio blocker on our internet has been disabled so I can listen to LAUNCHcast stations instead of the ear-bleeding crap Co-worker listens to on the oldies station! :)
