I'd rather be having a beer!

My Boyfriend Has Spending Problems . . . .

2007-09-20T11:54:00.000-08:00

In the majority of relationships, you normally hear whining and crying from the guy about how much his crazy, money-careless girlfriend blows his hard earned wages on things that they don't need. As in most things in my life, my relationship is not normal. Okay, okay, I'll admit that I will occasionally spend money on a cute pair of shoes, an irrisistable hand bag or new hair products, and I get my nails done every two weeks, but these things are considered maintenance and simply don't count in the grand scheme of things. My boyfriend, on the other hand, will go on spending sprees that would make Paris Hilton proud. Take into consideration his latest purchase . . . .

I get home from work last night at 1:30 in the morning - no, it's not that kind of job - I'm a cocktail waitress at a local seafood restaurant. I'm tired, my feet are killing me, I smell like food and all I can think about is getting a shower and falling into bed. (The new king sized pillow top bed that Shorty bought last week on his day off. I'm building my case here.) I get to the top of the stairs, manage not to trip over the fuzzy black demon cat who's happily trying to wind his way through my legs, and jump in fright as Shorty pops his head out of our bedroom doorway. Keep in mind it's 1 in the morning - Shorty should be tucked into bed dreaming of Britney Spears in her sparkly, over-stretched, Cheeto dust covered black bikini. Grinning like a maniacal impluse buyer, he motions me into the bedroom to see what he just bought. We have a pretty sweet computer desk set up in our bedroom, complete with flat screen monitor. When we purchased our house two years ago, Shorty made the decision not to have a TV in our bedroom. I didn't argue with him on this one. If I let him win the smaller battles, it ups his self esteem and allows him to fool himself into thinking that he's the real decision maker in the home. So I stumble, exhausted and smelly, into our bedroom. Giggling with glee, Shorty proudly exhibits our new 32" flat screen computer monitor and proceeds to show off all the new features that we have. Not only can he play poker in high definition on a gigantic screen, we can watch TV in the bedroom now AND he slyly had Varsity Blues, one of my favorite movies of all time, playing.

I'll impulse-buy a new shampoo and conditioner or a new pair of shoes. SHORTY impulse-buys new beds, boats, 4 wheelers and 32" computer monitors. Maybe I need to start catching up . . . .

You know what time it is . . . .

2007-09-18T09:01:00.000-08:00

The leaves are starting to turn, there's a crisp bite in the air. . . . you'll catch the faintest wisp of woodsmoke in the mornings as you head out to your car, there are beads of dew on your windshield . . . . my Chiefs are getting spanked by the likes of the Houston Texans . . . and your local Starbucks is featuring Pumpkin Spice lattes as the special of the day - that's right, it's PUMPKIN SPICE FLAVORED COFFEE CREAMER SEASON!! WOO HOO!!!!

I'm back!!! Ish . . . .

2007-07-12T09:49:00.000-08:00

Holy crazy 2 week vacation!! I drove my hot GMC Canyon to Soldotna for my cousin Shannon's wedding. Since I'm a sweet, wonderful cousin I showed up a week early to help her with preparations - and she had me running around and working my butt off! Her fiance, Brad, (who is freaking AWESOME!) had me up on an extension ladder painting their house and mowing their lawn! I was totally taken advantage of! It was a lot of fun, though, and it was really good to see my family in the Kenai/Soldotna area. The wedding was absolutely beautiful and Shannon and the bridesmaids looked just gorgeous. Surprising Shan at her bachelorette party was definitely the highlight of the trip, though. :)

This is me and Shannon at her wedding:

The day after the wedding my mom and I drove to Seward and I spent June 30th through July 5th in Seward with my family there. Uncle Shawn and his best friend, Eddie, both flew up from Colorado to run the Mt Marathon Race (the start was a complete fiasco and Uncle Shawn got screwed) and Aunt Terri flew in from Washington, so we had a mini family reunion. Nana was still in Washington so I didn't get to see her but it was wonderful to see my family again. I also managed to hook up with some old friends from highschool. This is Nita, me & Rachel at the Yukon bar in Seward, getting rowdy and catching up:

I'm back to work for this week and the following Monday, but Tuesday the 17th through Thursday the 19th Warren, Sheilah, Shorty and I are loading up the boat and jet skis and heading to Birch Lake!!! We're renting a cabin again and I have plans to do nothing except sprawl my butt out on the boat and catch some sun. Oh, and kick Warren's jet ski's ass with our jet ski. Pictures of Warren crying like a girl to follow!

Megyn and the 4 Wheeler

2007-06-06T16:33:00.000-08:00

We bought Megyn a cute little 4 wheeler the other day so she can go riding with us! I was showing her how to ride it and we went for a few practice cruises around the neighborhood. Smart girl here thought that it would be a good idea to ride my bike while I was teaching her how to ride her 4 wheeler, that way we would go slow and I'd be able to hear her and talk to her since our 4 wheeler is really loud. So off we go and dear God did I get a work out! It was fun, though. :)

Here's Megyn cruising around the back yard:

And here's her cheese ballin' for the camera:

Quotes of the Day:

2007-06-06T16:27:00.001-08:00

Big Kev to Lindsey B: "I think of you every time I close my eyes."

Lindsey B to Big Kev: "I think of you every time I walk down the hall past your shop to go poo."

Awww! Warm fuzzies!

I'm back, bitches!

2007-04-04T17:37:00.000-08:00

Yeah, it's been awhile. I've been busy and haven't had a chance to update in ages. Yup, I really don't have a good excuse for neglecting my blog, but I do have photographice evidence that I've been busy -

I got a new hair cut - it's little shorter and a little darker blonde:

I was partying with the gang at Gold Rush for St Paddy's Day:

Then I took a nap with the kattens:

Then I headed across the hall to chill with Big Kev the pirate:

After that, I hit up Chilis for a margarita lunch:

And here's Sheilah and I going out to find new hot guys:

Okay, so those last two are a little old. Lunch at Chilis is from March of 2006 and the picture of Sheilah and me is from Shorty & Warren's birthday party last October. Still, I've been busy! Hopefully I'll have new softball pictures to post since the snow is melting and softball season is almost here! Woo hoo!

Little Red Corvette!

2007-02-28T16:02:00.000-09:00

I'm a Chevrolet Corvette!

You're a classic - powerful, athletic, and competitive. You're all about winning the race and getting the job done. While you have a practical everyday side, you get wild when anyone pushes your pedal. You hate to lose, but you hardly ever do.

Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

Yeah. This is totally me!! ;)

Dear God, Please Make It Go Away!!!

2007-02-28T10:06:00.000-09:00

My schedule for the past month has been a little insane and it doesn't look like things are going to slow down until we hit the beginning of May. I sub for coed B volleyball on Monday nights and I play women's indoor soccer and Coed C volleyball on Tuesday nights, coed indoor soccer on Wednesday nights, women's indoor soccer and womens B league volleyball on Thursday nights and I usually hit up the volleyball open gym on Friday nights. Throw in weight lifting on Monday, Wednesday and Friday before games and you'll see that I've pretty much got something going every night of the week.

How does one cope with such a loaded schedule, and how did I allow myself to get talked into all these activities, you might ask. The answer is simple, my friends: large quantites of booze and chocolate, and I'm a sucker who just can't say no. That's right, if you come to me with some sob story about how you just need one more girl for your team and I'd really be helping you out and the whole team is so excited about playing but you're one chick short and if you don't get someone to play the entire team is going to fold, and I'll cave like Big Kev in front of the doughnut section at Safeway. (Or like Whitney in front of the crack house. Or like Shorty in front of the one-legged hooker on South Cushman.)

Since my life is so crazy busy, I really value my down-time, and one of the very few things that keeps me sane and brings a little joy into my life is House. I love that show. I obsess over it. I sob when it's over and wait with baited breath until the next week when I can slump my tired butt onto our comfy couch, curl up with Shorty and the cattens and lose myself for an hour in the rapier wit of Dr. House, Cameron, Foreman and the insanely hot accented Chase. (There are times when I'm stuck at a volleyball match or soccer game, so Shorty, valuing his life, will record House for me so I can watch it when I get home. Either he loves me unconditionally or he understands that I will go Tonya Harding on his ass if I miss an episode.) So you can imagine my crushing disappointment when I rushed home last night, sweaty, exhausted and sore from my soccer game, only to discover that, instead of House, American Idol is airing. Again. And again. And again. Over and over and over - AUGH!!! This show is like dirty, broken, cracked fingernails (damn, that was a good visual!) on a chalkboard to me. Seriously, if I wanted to hear some out-of-tune, big haired, half nekkid hootchie, who's managed to pour herself into an outfit that's clearly several sizes too small for an 8 year old, screeching an out-dated song that everyone wishes would just die, I'd tune in to Beyonce's latest remix. I hate this show. I detest this show. The worst type of torture imaginable would be to be duct taped to a chair and forced to watch re-runs of American Idol. Ryan Secrest is one of the biggest douches on the planet, and Paula Abdul is so overly-medicated that I'm amazed she can remember the names of her fellow judges. This show is a horrible waste of air time.

So, after several seconds of helplessly sobbing into my pillow, screaming my frustrations and a nice, calming round of puppy-kicking, I grabbed a book and a glass of red wine and headed to the hot tub, leaving Shorty in a Nyquil-induce fog, curled up on the loveseat with a fuzzy blankie and a spoiled boy cat, watching Flags of Our Fathers.

This is what my truck looks like at -48

2007-02-26T10:47:00.000-09:00

Yeah, remember that post about how Fairbanks wasn't really that bad at -40? I take it back. I take it all back. It was between -38 and -48 every day last week and I don't wanna play anymore!

This is my poor baby truck sitting in my parking spot at -48. That was the temperature as I was driving to work last Friday.

Is summer here yet???.

Cookie for me, cookie for you!

2007-02-21T14:07:00.000-09:00

I have a certain method, a way, if you will, of interpreting my fortune cookies. Some people like to add 'in a hot tub' or 'naked' to the end of their fortune and some prefer to read it as-is, leaving out any childish embellishments. Big Kev and I add the phrase 'in bed.'

Kev was craving Chinese food today, so after wolfing down some dumplings and pork fried rice, I tore open my fortune cookie and was granted this fortune:

'You will enjoy doing something different this coming weekend - in bed.'

So, in honor of my fortune, Big Kev has declared this Saturday to be Strap-On Saturday.

Remember, you heard it here first.

I Am A Fraud

2007-02-19T09:48:00.000-09:00

I've lived in Alaska most of my life, simply because, it's home. I briefly lived in California and Washington, and while I liked both places and eventually plan to relocate to Washington to be closer to my family, I love Alaska, and I just keep coming back. There are warmer places to live than Fairbanks, but again, Fairbanks somehow became home, and I love living here. I also get tons of sympathy from friends and family outside of Fairbanks, and most are in awe of the fact that I manage to survive winters at temperatures of 40 degrees below zero - and colder. (I'm fairly certain this is an indication that they all think I'm a high maintenance little princess, which, obviously, is pretty accurate. But I'm a tough high maintenance little princess!) I sit back and eat up the sympathy, make up stories about my eyelashes freezing on my way from the truck to the office, terrify my mother with my ice fog experiences (I couldn't see three feet in front of my truck and I had to drive 20 miles an hour to work . . .) and make it seem like Fairbanks is a lot more hazardous and dangerous to live in than it actually is. They'll never know! They don't live here and rarely visit in the winter, so they don't know any better - and it's not like I'm doing anything too terribly bad. I lead my innocent, trusting family and friends to believe that I live under extreme duress where every day survived is a triumph and every roadside breakdown can result in the loss of toes and fingers to frost bite, and they in turn think that I'm overcoming amazing odds and tribulations, and I get lots and lots of respect, an impressive reputation, and, more importantly, I get waited on hand and foot when I come to visit. Works well for me.

I've managed for years to hose everyone quite well with this illusion, but all the free drinks, dinners, Prada and Gucci handbags and sympathy is starting to make me feel a little, well, dirty, so I've decided to come clean and admit that I am actually a total fraud. Yes, Fairbanks does see temperatures in excess of -40, and my eyelashes actually have frozen from the truck to the office, but it's really not as bad as I've been making it seem, and I have one inventive little gadget to thank for this: auto start. I love my auto start. Auto Start allows me to stay inside, sit on my butt, hit a button and jump into a nice, warm truck 20 minutes later. It might be -45 outside but it's 75 degrees inside my truck, and that's all that matters. Yeah, the run from the office to the truck, or from the truck to the gym is a little chilly, but it's three seconds of cold I have to endure and then I get to hop into a nice, warm, well-heated vehicle and cruise home. Wanna know a little secret? Sometimes I don't even wear a jacket. Oh, I always have one with me, but most of the time it's so warm in my truck that I get too hot in a jacket, so I just take it off. Then, when I get home, I pull into the garage and my truck has several hours to thaw out before we have to go back outside.

I'm very sorry for all the years of deception, but I'm sure everyone will agree that they feel much better knowing that I'm not constantly battling against the elements, having to rush outside, start my truck and run back inside - or, God forbid, that I have to drive home from the gym in an icy cold vehicle.

I'll admit, I was enjoying all the attention and gifts that were lavished on me, but I came to the realization that I was causing my friends and family a lot of worry, so I forced myself to bare my soul and come out with the truth. Because I'm considerate, caring and honest like that.

Just Thought I'd Spice Things Up

2007-02-15T10:00:00.000-09:00

Since I'm absolutely horrible at returning emails in a timely fashion, and, as interesting as my life is to me, I do get a little tired of writing the same thing 10 different times to 10 different family members, and global emails are out of the question as I get snarled at when I send such 'impersonal correspondance,' I started this blog as a quick and easy way for my family and friends to keep tabs on me and see what I've been up to. I'm very aware that, at any second, my dear, sweet Nana Boo Boo Head could hop on the internet and hit up my blog for a quick fix on her favorite grandchild, so, with this in mind, I try to keep things clean, thus maintaining my image of sweet, innocent purity.

Those of you who know me better probably realize how difficult this must be for me, so every once in a while I cave, and the real Lindsey busts out. For example, this seemed like a perfect time for a little . . . .

CAT ON DOG PORN!!!!

Aaah. Much more gooder.

DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, PURCHASE THIS SWEATER!!

2007-02-14T17:36:00.000-09:00

I know what you're thinking. It's cute, it's light-weight, it's flattering. Looks great with jeans, paired with a cami, easily dressed up for work with a few great accessories. Even the description is soothing: soft, cotton/angora blend. What it doesn't tell you is that it will leave fuzzies all over everything it comes in contact with!!!

This fact wasn't immediately apparent this morning when I put my cute gray sweater on over my cute dark lavendar cami. I slipped on a beaded lavendar, pink and purple necklace, checked my reflection and called it good. Shortly after arriving at work, I noticed that there were light gray fuzzies all over my office chair. Then there were light gray fuzzies on my pants, my desk and the floor around my desk. My cute cami is now covered in gray hairballs, I've been picking gray fuzzies out of my eyelashes for the past 7 hours, I feel like I've swallowed approximately half of the fuzzies that make up my sweater and I have to wipe my water bottle off before I take a drink because of the gray fuzzies that have accumulated all over it!!

This sweater is a menace!!! Do not get taken in by it's soft, fuzzy appearance and unwittingly decide that it would be a great light weight sweater to wear to the office! I don't want anyone to have to experiece what I've had to go through today. I'll be picking gray fuzzies out of my contacts for the next week . . . .

Help me, Obe Wan, you're my only hope!

2007-02-12T16:23:00.000-09:00

Okay, you guys may not be as hot, as talented or as heroic as Obe Wan, (and I'm sure most of you are lacking the incredibly sexy accent) but you're all I've got to work with.

I have an existing ringtone on my cell for Shorty when he calls me, but it's not very imaginative. I was thinking about downloading the song 'Smack My Bitch Up' and using that as his ringtone, but I can't find it and I'm at a complete loss for other songs that would adequately express my love for my sweet, kind, wonderful boyfriend. I thought about 'White & Nerdy' and I haven't completely crossed that one out, but I thought I'd hit you guys up and ask if you have any good suggestions for what I could use as Shorty's ringtone.

No idea will be ridiculed or looked down on. The worst I could do is tell you you're a moron with pathetic tastes in ringtones. So, help - what do you think Shorty's ringtone should be?

The Night My Boyfriend Tried To Kill Me

2007-01-23T17:44:00.000-09:00

I actually made dinner last night - without burning anything!!! Yes, this really is a momentous occastion in my life. I pan-fried three boneless, skinless chicken breasts in extra light olive oil, steamed a veggie medley of carrots, green beens and corn, and added steamed rice. Sounds pretty healthy, right? It was - right up until the point that I put it all in the pan and mixed in a garlic herb white sauce - which, in my defense, also had a lot of protein in it! There was a lot of fat, too, but we'll just leave that part out. The main point is, I made dinner last night, I didn't burn a thing, our kitchen didn't catch fire, there was no gaping tear in the space/time continuum and everything actually tasted really good.

In my quest to prepare a yummy, healthy dinner, I foolishly forgot one very, very, vitally important aspect - the effect great quantities of protein have on Shorty's tummy. The gurguling sounds that I heard shortly after dinner had me a bit worried, but he made several trips to the bathroom, so I fooled myself into thinking that I would be safe that night. I rarely am able to bust out a noteworthy ass bomb, but the overabundance of protein in my dinner must have had some kind of affect on me as well, because I succeeded in making Shorty, the Fart King, cough a few times in complaint, and I was feeling pretty good about myself.

Later that night, as I was innocently occupied in the master bathroom, washing my face and taking out my contacts, little did I know that as Shorty was curling himself into bed with the spoiled furballs, he was plotting my demise.

Looking back at everything, I should have been alerted by the fact that Ariel and Jazz simultaniously launched off the bed and rushed out of the room, but, being the innocent, sweet, naive individual that I am, I checked that our alarm was set, slid under the blankets and curled up next to my cute boyfriend. All was quiet for a few humming seconds, until Shorty gently fluttered the sheets, rolled over, wrapped his arms around me and draped a leg over mine. Foolishly thinking that he was just being sweet, I snuggled into his arms, took a deep breath, sighed - and choked at the noxious fumes wafting from beneath our sheets! My nose hairs were singed, my eyes were beginning to water and I couldn't breathe!! As darkness slowly started closing in and I gasped in vain for a clean breath of air, I dimly heard Shorty softly chuckle and whisper into my ear, "You've been served!"

80's Trivia Question O' Da Day

2007-01-23T14:17:00.000-09:00

Kev and I were playing Totally 80's trivial pursuit during lunch (yes, I got thumped - but I was born in 78!! I think I should get a handicap!) and I missed a question that I totally should have gotten. Kev, the 80's trivia king, didn't even know the name of the show, so he had no idea what I was doing when I suddenly broke out into song in the middle of his store . . . . . I remembered the theme song but I absolutely could not come up with the name of the damn show! Then I thought I was getting the theme song confused with the theme from Flash Gordon so I second guessed myself and missed the answer. :(

I was so sure that I knew the theme song to this show, but I wasn't absolutely positive, so, naturally, I looked it up on the net when I got back from lunch. I still maintain that if you can sing the theme song to the TV show but you can't remember the name of the damn show, you should get a point anyway.

Moving on, I just wanted to see if any of you could guess the name of the TV show (from the 80's, obviously) that belongs to the lyrics:

Look at what's happened to me
I can't believe it myself
Suddenly I'm up on top of the world
It should've been somebody else

Believe it or not, I'm walking on air
I never thought I could feel so free
Flying away on a wing and a prayer
Who could it be?
Believe it or not, it's just me!

Shorty, here's a hint: we had an argument over the theme song of the show at Brewsters one night. Oh, and BTW, I WAS RIGHT! HAH!

Thought for the Day:

2007-01-19T09:29:00.000-09:00

How Am I Supposed To Fit My Fat Ass Back Into THAT??!?!!

2007-01-10T10:52:00.000-09:00

As I'm sure is true for many of you, I've put on a couple of pounds over the holidays. My mother was in town for Thanksgiving, (or, as we like to call it, Stuff Yourself Until You Pop And Then Go Back For More, with football thrown in, Day) and I'm placing the deviation from my work out routine directly on her door step. You never want to feel rude when friends and family come to visit and are staying with you, and to me, it just seems like poor hospitality when you take valuable time away from your guest and spend that time downstairs working out instead of curled up on the couch with a glass of wine, watching the What Not To Wear marathon together. That's some quality mother-daughter bonding time right there!

Truthfully, I was too busy enjoying my visit with my mother to work out. (It had nothing to do with the 5 day bender we went on or the copious bottles of wine that we went through - really! But, honestly, can you tell me that you've ever put in a quality work out when hung over? I'm just sayin!)

So, it all started with Thanksgiving. I tried in vain to get back into my regular work out schedule, but company Christmas parties, family coming in, entertaining friends, dinners, soccer games, leftover Halloween candy and all the insanity that goes along with the holidays kept me away from the work out equipment until I suddenly discovered that 15 extra pounds had snuck up and attached itself firmly to my ass.

Shorty called me a few minutes ago to tell me about a special that one of the airlines is running - $219 one-way to Puerto Vallarta. That's $438 round trip. $876 for two people to go to Puerto Vallarta - and a friend of ours offered to hook us up with a hotel for $85 a night. (He always stays right on the beach, so I'm assuming that this is a fairly nice hotel - but it could be a cockroach-infested hut for all I care! It's 35 damn degrees below zero in Fairbanks right now! Hell, get me to Mexico I'll sleep on the damn beach!! That's probably where I'll end up passing out, anyway . . . . ) This is just something Shorty's looking in to, but it's sounding pretty awesome. The catch - the tickets have to be used by the first week of March. My ass will not be small enough to fit into any of my bikinis by the first week of March. Not through any normal means of weight loss, anyway. That's right, bitches - nothing but Ex-Lax, water, celery and apples until March! (I've read that eating celery and apples actually burns more calories than they have in them. I read it on the Internet, so I know it's true.)

PUERTO VALLARTA!!! The land of margaritas, hot cabana boys, white, sandy beaches and sun! It's on!

The New Hotness

2007-01-08T15:11:00.000-09:00

It's official - or, it was official two weeks ago - that my hot little Dakota has been totalled and I have a new truck. It doesn't have KC Chiefs stickers yet, but it will this Spring.

Say hello to my 2005 GMC Canyon.

I opted to go with a more grown-up color instead of the retina-searing red of my Dakota, but it's still red.

It's got the new engine that has one less cylinder but more horsepower, so it's actually got balls and it's better on gas! The four doors instead of the two door extended cab are so much more convenient, too. It makes it much easier to get things like groceries, soccer gear, dead bodies and pounds of illegal drugs out of the backseat!

I'll miss my Dakota, but I love my new hotness!

Wow, I've changed.

2006-12-15T10:11:00.000-09:00

Something very odd happened last night, and it's got me a little concerned. Can it possibly be that I'm actually developing some sense of tact, or even *shudder* becoming more of a lady? If so, hell's about to freeze over and the apocolypse is on it's way, so heads up!

I played pretty well in my soccer game last night, (no goals, though) and I had a few really, really sweet headers. (Whit, I'm sure you can tell where this is going now.) One was almost Brandi Chastain-like! The other team's goalie blocked a shot, the ball flew up into the air and toward the sideline, where I lay in wait, and I launched up into the air above the defense (I've got vertical, bitches!) and rocketed a laser beam header right to Janelle! It was sweet! It was hot, it was awesome - and the boyfriend of one of the opposing team members leaned over from the bleachers and said to me, "Nice head." The first thing that popped into my mouth was, "Thanks, I hear that a lot." But I actually refrained and simply grinned, said "Thanks," and left it at that.

What happened to me???! Am I actually developing some maturity?? What happened to the foul-mouthed jock-chick I used to be??!! I knew wearing all this pink was going to have some kind of affect on me, I just knew it!!!

I think I'm going to go home, put on a game, chug some beer and then burp and scratch to get some of my masculinity back . . .

Nicole Richie busted for DUI

2006-12-11T12:10:00.000-09:00

TMZ and Dlisted both have the story of Nicole getting busted for a DUI - and on the police report they're listing her height and weight at 5'1" and 85 pounds. 85 POUNDS?!?!?!!! She probably sniffed a shot of Grey Goose and got a contact buzz! 85 pounds is insane. Seriously, I have no problem flying up to Hollywood and putting Ms Richie on my own diet as gaining weight since college has obviously not been a problem for me. :P

85 pounds . . . . that's just gross . . . . I think I'll order a huge container of Sesame Chicken for lunch and reaffirm the fact that I love my curves . . . .

UNLEASH THE HOUNDS!!!

2006-11-09T15:59:00.000-09:00

Kevin and I have been engaging in potty humor all day, and I've discovered something - the more we talk about dirty, nasty, toilet-related, unlady-like stuff that an innocent little flower such as myself should never even think about, the more I have to poop. And since I'm a kind, considerate co-worker, I'll hold off until I'm in the comfort and privacy of my own bathroom.

In a completely un-related aside, Shorty, don't go into the master bathroom until at least 10:00 p.m. tonight . . . .

FedEX is outtie!

2006-11-08T16:40:00.000-09:00

In shocking news that has been burning up the blogosphere since yesterday afternoon, Britney Spears stunned the universe by filing for divorce from the waste of space, Kevin Federline. (Who's name will still wouldn't know if he hadn't latched onto Brit like a leech and proceeded to attempt to bleed her dry.) Looks like baby weight isn't the only thing momma's droppin' of late . . . .

You can catch all the details at tmz, dlisted, a socialite's life, popsugar, pink is the new blog (who I borrowed the 'dunzo' picture from) and pretty much every other gossip blog on the planet.

But, more pressingly, will Shorty drop me like a stinky bag of poo and rush to Hollywood to console his fantasy chick, or will I be forced to cram bad extentsions in my hair and pound Cheetos in a desperate attempt to keep him interested?

(I'm kidding, Brit actually looks fabulous! I love the bob!)

SONOFA - BRRR!!

2006-11-06T10:18:00.000-09:00

It is 58 degrees in my office. I shit you not. I can almost see my breath.

I have my space heater on, I'm wearing my puffy pale blue down jacket and I'm stuffing myself with egg, cheese, sausage, green onion and green bell pepper yumminess that Shorty made for breakfast yesterday in a desperate, and fruitless, attempt to get some warmth into my body. My fingers feel like little tiny ice cubes and my toes are going numb.

I can't be expected to work in these conditions!!! Just because I choose to live in Alaska doesn't mean that I should have to freeze my nuts off inside as well as outside! My freaking tea won't even stay warm!!! >:(

Victoria's Secret is bringing SEXY back!

2006-11-02T14:49:00.000-09:00

PuuurrrrROWR! THAT'S HOT!

Big Kev's cutie pie friend, Missy, gave me the heads up on these bad boys, and all I can say is - I'm bringing moonboots back, bitches!!

I'm all over the pale blue and green pair - like a fat kid on a Smartie!

HOLY SHIT!

2006-11-01T17:58:00.000-09:00

YES PLEASE!!!!

2006-11-01T15:31:00.000-09:00

This is a public service announcement to rub in the fact that my Chiefs have a better record than:

The Steelers (2 - 5)

The Redskins (2 - 5)

We're tied with the stupid Cowboys, (4 - 3) and we're almost tied with the Eagles (4 - 4).

The Pats don't count. :P

Holy Freaking YUM!

2006-10-30T15:00:00.000-09:00

These things are awesome!!! They taste super good with Bud Lite and Corona, although they give me rotten luck at poker, and they're the perfect snack food to have at your desk.

I'm not a big fan of hot stuff, and these aren't hot - they have a little bite to them and they are sooooooo freaking yummy!

Wasabi Peas - you know you wanna hit it!

Life is just about perfect . . .

2006-10-24T11:46:00.000-08:00

As I was lounging in our new hot tub last night, glass of cabernet in hand, soft snow flakes falling gently into the water, all was peaceful and silent. A plane flew distantly over head, the branches of the surrounding trees were sparkling with crusted snow and I sank a little deeper into the steamy, bubbling water, and realized - life is just about perfect.

(Whit, stop reading here. I'm gonna get mushy and I wouldn't want you to yack all over your keyboard.)

Life would, at that moment, have been absolutely perfect if Shorty had been in the hot tub with me.

However, since his stinky butt was passed out on the love seat in a Nyquil-induced coma, I had to enjoy the nice, relaxing moment all by myself!!

I'm so abused and mistreated.

New and Exciting Sh&# That I Seem To Be Suddenly Allergic To:

2006-09-26T14:29:00.000-08:00

After my brief bout with seasonal allergies, I've discovered that I've developed a whole new slew of food-related allergies. I was told by my doctor that our bodies change every 7 years, and the fact that I've recently turned 28 seems to have triggered all of this, which only further confirms my conclusion that getting old bites. Now, eating certain foods have triggered a really uncomfortable reaction - my throat feels itchy and tight, like it's closing, and I can't breath very well, and the insides of my ears itch like crazy. I've never had allergies - ever and I've never been allergic to anything - ever - and all of a sudden, I'm allergic to everything that I love! :(

So. New and Exciting Shit That I Seem To Be Suddenly Allergic To:

~ Apples. I love apples. I eat at least one apple every day. Golden Delicious are my favorites, but the tart, green Granny Smiths are right behind.

~ Strawberries. Who in the hell is allergic to strawberries?!?!?! It's a strawberry, for God's sake, but suddenly, I can't eat them.

~ Peaches and Nectarines. I LOVE fruit and these are - ooops, were - two of my favorite things to eat.

~ Pears. The weird thing is, I can eat canned pears, just not fresh pears. ???

~ Plums. I'm going to start tearing up in a second.

~ Carrots. We go through bags of baby carrots, so maybe all this is due to overkill? This is the only veggie I seem to have issues with, though.

~ Cherries. Not that we get a lot of fresh cherries in Alaska, but when we do get them, I stuff myself. Yeah, no more. :(

~ Grapes. These were my favorite snack. I'd munch on grapes almost every day, and now I'm forced to find other snack options. :(

~Bannanas. Reactions to bananas are hit and miss, and again, banana bread is fine, fresh bananas kill me, though.

Thus far, I seem to be allergic to all my favorite fruits except melon and oranges. :( I quit and I don't wanna play anymore.

2006-09-21T17:11:00.000-08:00

As if I needed another reason to be envious of the incredibly beautiful Cindy Crawford - she got her chest autographed by Matt Hughes:

God Is A Steelers Fan

2006-09-20T15:32:00.000-08:00

Donovan McNabb, after living a full life and setting many NFL records, finally died. When he got to heaven, God was showing him around. They came to a modest little house with a faded Eagles flag in the window.

"This house is yours for eternity, Donovan." said God. "This is very special; not everyone gets a house up here."

Donovan felt special, indeed, and walked up to his house. On his way up the porch, he noticed another house just around the corner. It was a 3 story mansion with a black and yellow sidewalk, a 50 foot tall flag pole with an enormous Steelers flag, and in every window, a TerribleTowel.

Donovan looked at God and said, "God, I'm not trying to be ungrateful, but I have a question. I was an all-pro quarterback, I hold many NFL records, and I even went to the Hall of Fame."

God said, "So what's your point, Donovan?"

"Well, why does Ben Roethlisberger get a better house than me," Donovan asked.

God chuckled, and said, "Donovan, that's not Ben's house, it's mine."

Blogger hates me - SOB!

2006-09-19T17:46:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to post pictures from the women's softball tourney in Wasilla, but Blogger is being evil and keeps timing out when I try and attach a picture, so I'll try it later. :( *pouts*

I give up.

2006-09-19T12:52:00.000-08:00

September 17, 2006 Invesco Field

1st 2nd 3rd 4th OT FINAL
KAN (0-2) 0 3 3 0 0 6
DEN (1-1) 0 0 3 3 3 9

THAT'S IT, I'M BANDWAGONING TO THE PACKERS. >:(

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned

2006-09-15T16:18:00.000-08:00

It has been 28 years since my last confession. (That my forgetfull butt remembers . . . . )

Today I have eaten:

2 doughnuts - I went to the Bakery to buy my boss and I each a cheese danish since it was just the two of us in the office today, and when I realized that I was going to be a little late I threw in another doughnut to sweeten the deal - a maple bar for him and a cream filled chocolate covered doughnut for me.

1 Key Lime Pie - okay, it wasn't a whole key lime pie. One of our clients brought in these little mini pies for us to try since she was raving about her incredible Key Lime Pie recipe the last time she was in, and I'm not a big fan of key lime, but OMG it was sooooo gooooood . . . .

3 pieces of pizza - Kev and I had pizza for lunch and I scarfed two slices of the combo pizza before I discovered the garlic chicken ranch pizza, and, of course, I had to have a piece of that one, too.

So, that's it - so far. I'm meeting Karina and Normagene at Brewsters after work to talk about soccer, and I should really have a salad or a veggie appitizer, but Brewsters has The Best stuffed southwestern shrimp, so I'm confessing to an order of those, also, as well as the glass of white wine I'm going to have at the restaurant and the glass (or 3) I'll have later tonight in the Jacuzzi tub.

I promise to do 2 extra cardio workouts this weekend and eat nothing but salad until Monday. Amen.

(Although I do think the horrible tummy ache I have right now is penance enough . . . . )

2006-09-13T17:13:00.000-08:00

If you read the gossip blogs as much as I'm ashamed to admit that I do, you're probably aware that Bobby Brown is hittin' the sheets with a chick named Karrine 'Superhead' Steffans, who's apparently starred in several music videos. From what I've heard, she was given the nickname 'Superhead' by the rappers she was shooting with.

This has lead to me ponder the question, how does one get the nickname 'Superhead?' Is it for the obvious reason that I'm sure is skittering around in thoughts of those of you who are a little more gutter-minded, or is the reason behind this interesting nickname a little more innocent? Perhaps she earned this nickname for her exceptionally large skull? And, more pressingly, do you think there's any tread left on that thing, or is it like throwing a hot dog down a hallway??

Open Season on NFL QBs

2006-09-13T14:42:00.000-08:00

The NFL has ruled that Robert Geathers' late hit on Trent Green wasn't a foul. I'm not sure how they came to this conclusion as Trent was well into his slide before Geathers went for his head, (the slide wasn't that late - come on!) but officials have ruled that Geathers' momentum carried him into Trent. I'm attributing this incorrect ruling to a little condition I like to call 'headus uppus the sphincterus.' I, personally, think this is a bullshit decision, but my judgement may possibly be a little clouded considering that it was my team's QB I was watching get smashed into the turf.

Still, the implication is that Geathers got off on a vicious hit due to a simple opinion. It's garbage, he should be fined and Herm Edwards should be throw out of the league.

Don't ask me what that last suggestion has to do with Geathers' late hit - I'm just scrambling for anything that will make Herm 'My Head Is Up My Pooper' Edwards go away. (I'm just pissy that our season is going to poop, my QB is injured and the new coach is an asshat.)

Joke of the Day:

2006-09-12T10:49:00.000-08:00

Q: What can a bird do that a man can't do?

A: Whistle through his pecker!

Hee hee!

I don't make them up . . . I just pass them along . . . .

Double Ententre Theatre

2006-08-14T15:04:00.000-08:00

My butt muscles hurt because I was playing with wood all weekend . . .

Wait, that didn't sound right . . . .

Geek In The Pink

2006-08-04T09:44:00.000-08:00

I've developed this really weird obsession with Jason Mraz's song 'Geek In The Pink' - so here's a link! :)

I've listened to this song first thing in the morning for two weeks straight. Don't ask me why I'm so into this song because I have no idea. I mean, it's no 'Step By Step' or 'Tearin Up My Heart' but it's not bad. :P

Note to self:

2006-08-03T16:51:00.000-08:00

You don't have any curtains, blinds or any other view-obstructing material over the window in the downstairs entertainment room. Therefore; rushing through the downstairs entertainment room in a frantic attempt to locate your softball uniform, clad only in thong underwear, is extremely inadvisable - especially during the time that your neighbor is innocently strolling through his back yard to adjust his sprinkler and happens to glance up at your window as he's bending down.

Hope you enjoyed the show, Jeff! I normally charge $3.49 for that kind of thing, but since you're our neighbor, the first one's on the house.

Check it out!

2006-07-27T12:26:00.000-08:00

I just found my costume for Halloween:

That's hot!

Holy Lumberg moment!!!

2006-07-26T16:56:00.000-08:00

I actually said to a client, "Yeah, if you could make that payment by August 9th, that'd be greaaat." And I didn't do it on purpose.

I don't wanna turn into Lumberg, he has bad hair and terrible taste in office attire!! Besides, suspenders totally make me look flat.

Must . . . take . . . mind . . . off . . . . Lumberg . . . .

Let's try this:

Quickie - post, I mean

2006-07-24T16:09:00.000-08:00

We had the best weekend ever at Birch Lake! We left Friday night after I got off work and the weather was absolutely beautiful. Friday night was spent lounging by the fire and eating chicken and apple brats (Emril does awesome stuff with meat - and I don't mean it like that, Whit, get your mind out of the gutter!) until the wee hours of the morning. There may or may not have been an entire fifth of Crown Royal involved . . .

Saturday was hot and beautiful, and after stuffing ourselves with sausage, eggs and biscuits, we headed down to launch the boat and the jet skis. We played in the lake, anchored the boat out in the middle of the lake and tanned, threw a nerf football around, (Shorty was in the water and honestly, I didn't mean to throw it 3 inches short each time I passed it to him. It's not my fault I throw like a girl and he got soaked! Really!) cruised around in the boat, tore around on the jet skis and goofed off until about 7:30 when we headed back to the cabin for dinner. The boys grilled cheeseburgers, steaks and chicken and I spanked everyone in Scattergories. We hung until about 2:30 a.m. before we Sallied out and went to bed.

Sunday was even hotter than Saturday, but Warren and Shorty started whining like a couple of girls about wanting to get home early, so we packed up and headed back to Fairbanks. On the way home, we stopped at the Knotty Shop for the best ice cream in North America. Seriously, it is. I had the Cherry Vanilla and It. Was. Awesome. We were home, unpacked and I was lounging in the Jacuzzi tub by 2 in the afternoon. The rest of Sunday was spent napping on the couch with the spoiled rotten little hairballs who missed us terribly, munching and watching TV.

I wish we could have stayed longer on Sunday, but it was kinda nice to get home at a decent hour and have time to chill and nap. We did get a few pictures, which I'll post as soon as I find time to download everything onto the computer.

So, the weekend was awesome and I didn't feel the tiniest bit bad about missing the womens Golden Days softball tourney. I'm kinda burned out and I really don't think I'll play Late Season, but then again, I always say that and I always end up on a team or two. We'll see. I did order a new bat bag since the strap on my old one broke, and it would be a shame for it to not be used . . . .

Randomness - you like it!

2006-07-20T15:26:00.000-08:00

I came across an attachment in an email that totally reminded me of Shorty:

And one that reminded me of Whitney:

Delias has cute tees - who knew??!

2006-07-19T15:16:00.000-08:00

I stumbled upon a few cute tees while idly flipping through a Delia's catalog that came in the mail. (Yes, my job is incredibly stressful and time-consuming.)

Fee free to send me any and all of the following - size Large:

Ummmm - S'CUZE ME!!

2006-07-17T18:07:00.000-08:00

Okay, like, I totally did not authorize this:

I miss the long hair. I refuse to have an idol with short hair - however, she still looks smokin' hot, so I think it's okay.

The softball tourney was alright - I got game MVP in our last game Saturday nite, we got out Sunday morning, and we took 7th, which sucked, but so did our fielding, so there ya go. The X Fights were super fun, and I went out with Normagene, Nick and Tim Saturday night to celebrate the boys' last night here. And I may possibly have lost a bet and ended up riding the bull at Kodiak Jacks. I didn't get bucked off, which Nick and I also made a bet on, but that was probably due to the fact that I bribed the bull operator with a free shot. The shot cost more than the bet would have, but it's the principle of the thing, dammit! I walked up there all big-eyed, fluttered my eye lashes, busted out some crap about how I was so scared and I'd never done anything like this before and please, oh, please, don't buck me off, I'm really nervous - and the duder ate it up. He even walked me out there and helped me on the bull! Nick, of course, knew I was totally playing and he was glaring at me and shaking his head the whole time. How is it my fault that boys are dumb and he's a poor loser?? :)

Sunday after we got spanked by AK Sheet Metal I picked the monster up, drug her back to our house and spent the rest of the day playing catch with her, cleaning the house and falling asleep on the chair.

I don't want to jinx it, but Shorty put in to get this weekend off (an actual full, whole, entire WEEKEND off!!!!!) and we're planning on taking the boat and the monster out to Birch Lake. WOO HOO!!!!

I don't care who Shorty's has to sleep with or bribe to make this happen, it will happen. :P

Dear Asshole Who Egged My Truck:

2006-07-13T18:21:00.000-08:00

I can only assume that you have some kind of issue with the Kansas City Chiefs since the only part of my truck that was slathered in egg was one of my Chiefs decals. If that's the case, I have a suggestion for you: grow the fuck up. I'm sorry that you seem to have some kind of problem with the football team that I like. Apparently, my support of the Chiefs is offending. Tough shit. If it's that big of a deal to you, send nasty email to Herm Edwards like the rest of the haters, and leave my shit alone.

P.S. You owe me an $8 wash at Gasline, jackass, and I sincerely hope you try your bullshit again because when I catch you, disliking an NFL team badly enough to deface someone's property is going to be the least of your worries.

I'm sorry, I have to . . . .

2006-07-13T16:32:00.000-08:00

*whimper* Brad Pitt is insanely hot . . . . okay I'm done. (Sorry, Shorty, I really do love you, but it's Brad Pitt!)

I am officially older than dirt

2006-07-12T16:23:00.000-08:00

In a desperate effort to stem the flow of mean, nasty, uncomplimentary emails that have been flooding my Inbox, I'm posting a real update. (Since Whit apparently has nothing better to do than check my blog for updates every three seconds . . . :P)

Yes, it's true, I am officially older than dirt - I had my 10 year class reunion last week. SOB! I knew it was coming so I had plenty of time to prepare myself for this emotional trauma - and in a moment of weakness I went shopping for a cute new outfit that I didn't get to wear. There have been a lot of class reunions scheduled here in Fairbanks and in North Pole, so I thought I had a fairly reasonable idea of what to expect. Several classes rented conference rooms at the Princess Hotel and a few classes met at nice restaurants, so I figured I couldn't go wrong with a pair of white dress pants and a cute hip-length coral halter top. Not seriously dressy, but not scroungy. So I'm thinking that we'll have a dinner at one of the restaurants. Not quite. The Seward High School class of 1996 10 year reunion was 23 miles out of town in one of the pavilions at Trail Lake campground. Yeah, I didn't wear my white pants - and having a drink was out of the question since I had to borrow my grandmother's car (which doesn't have a CD player!!) to drive out there. It was good to see people, though, espeically since I didn't really keep in touch with anyone after high school. However, for the next reunion, I totally wouldn't be opposed to spending $50 a person to have dinner in town somewhere.

The trip back to Seward was a lot of fun, though - I got to see Dad and Uncle Jeff, spend time with Mom, Nana, Aunt Kris, Aunt Fumby and my little cousins and we watched Uncle Shawn and Eddie run the Mount Marathon race on the 4th. Eddie finished 16th, Uncle Shawn finished 17th and Eddie shattered the record for his age group - a record he set last year on his first race up the mountain - so I thought they both did really, really well. They wanted to run in under 50 minutes, which didn't happen (Eddie's time was 50:56 and Uncle Shawn's time was 51:47) and I got the feeling they were a little bummed about that, but they both shaved a lot off their times from last year and I know they'll improve even more next year.

I got back from Seward Thursday nite, got picked up at the airport by Shorty and Megyn, rushed home, threw all my camping and softball gear in my truck and drove to Wasilla Friday nite after work for the Mat-Su womens softball tourney. Yeah, I'm whiped out right now. We camped out at the fields and I had a pimp set up with my queen sized air mattress - I LOVE THAT THING!! We spanked the three teams we played on Saturday. The scores were 22 - 5, 22 - 6 & 22 - 12 . . . and then we got tore down Sunday morning 8 - 20 and 19 - 25. I'm sure the amount of alcohol that was consumed Saturday nite played a large part in us completely sucking Sunday morning. I made some great plays at second and I actually didn't drop a single ball that was hit to me in the outfield. Only one grounder got past me out there - it hit a rut, took a funky bounce and popped over the top of my glove, which wasn't a big deal since Alina was camped out right behind me. I love having good back up!

I got game MVP our third game on Saturday, which was sweet, but I'm not consistant with my bat anymore, and honestly, I'm not that worried about it. I'm getting seriously burned out and I doubt I'll play Late Season this year. I've been totally lax in getting to sand volleyball this summer and I the only thing I'm remotely excited for is indoor soccer in the fall. I've dedicated so many of my summers to softball and volleyball and I think I'm finally tired of it. We'll see. Somehow, I always say I'm done and then I end up playing anyway. It's different now that Shorty's not playing, though. It's not as much fun. (Whit, stop gagging, I'm trying to get bonus points here!! Play along, dammit!)

I have coed games tonite, tomorrow I'm coming home, working out and then we're supposed to meet up with Warren & Sheilah for dinner somewhere, I'm not sure what's up on Friday, I have the Coed Golden Days softball tourney on Saturday and X Fighting on Saturday nite, and Shorty might try to get Sunday off so we can take the boat to the lake. It's all fun stuff, but I really want to spend an evening at home relaxing and doing nothing. Maybe we can do that on Friday nite . . . .

(the building in the picture is Seward High School, which is where I got my hi-skool edjumakashon)

Date nite!

2006-07-12T10:59:00.000-08:00

Shorty and I went out all by ourselves last nite! It was kind of a spontaneous thing, which we haven't done in ages.

I got back home from my run, (running in 75 degree weather sucks, BTW!) we cruised over to pick up his white Ford truck and move it to the back of the lot at Affordable and we ended up taking a different way home. Shorty stopped into a 2 Go Mart for a soda and as soon as we pulled out of the parking lot, my stellar sense of direction popped into play and told me that we were going in the opposite direction of our house. Naturally, my first thought was that Shorty had met some stripper named Bambi at Reflections last weekend while I was in Wasilla, he'd fallen in lust, and his new bimbo had brain washed him into disposing of me at some desolate corner of Fairbanks so the two of them could be together. Imagine my relief when Shorty admitted that we were actually on our way to the movie theatre! We're going to be insanely busy for the next few days, so Shorty decided that we should take advantage of the one free evening we had and hit up Pirates of the Caribbean. :) :) :) There was a show starting in about 45 mintues so we headed over to Wendys for fude and then killed more time in the arcade of the theatre, where Shorty proceeded to make the pin ball game his bitch. We didn't get home until 12:30 last nite, but it was totally worth it!! The movie was great and it had been so long since the two of us did something alone together that I had forgotten what it was like!

(I'll do a real update soon!)

Our New Yacht

2006-06-23T10:41:00.000-08:00

Okay, it's not really a yacht, but it's totally hot!! I spent a couple of hours vacuuming and cleaning the inside, and it looks awesome. I also slathered enough Armor All on all the canvas parts to make them completely water proof. Heh . . . I may have gone slightly overboard, but every thing is really clean and shiney! I can't wait for this weekend!! Booze Cruise, baby!!! Erm, I mean, I can't wait to be a sober, responsible boater and drive slowly around the lake in our wonderful new boat. Love you, Mom and Grandma!

I didn't take any pictures of our exact boat, but I found one exactly like it. Well, except for one small difference, which I'll point out. So. Here's the boat - it's a 1996 Bayliner Bowrider 40th Anniversary Edition:

Here's the back of the boat if your standing in the stern and looking back:

The only difference is that our boat doesn't have the engine cover thingy - there are three seat cushions in the back, so you can cram at least 4 people back there! - which, of course, we'd never do . . .

This is Shorty's captain's chair:

This is the front of the boat if you're standing by the chairs:

There's a navy blue canvas cover that unstaps so you can cram a couple more people up front in the stern.

This is the back of the boat if you're standing all the way up front:

This is the front of the boat, if you're standing all the way in the back:

Here's another shot of Shorty's captain's chair - and the quad seats each fold flat and are perfect for suntanning - how conveeeeenient:

This is the view from my chair:

The interior is totally cute! It's white and navy blue with cream accents - all colors designed to show off a nice tan. Our friend who sold us the boat left us his water skiis, wake board, boogie board, a wet suit, an inflatable round thingy, (it's like an innertube, only it doesn't have a hole in the middle) and a ton of rope for towing victims, I mean, water skiiers and inner tubers! I absolutely can't wait to go out and play on the lake this weekend!

Screw softball, I'm bailing on all the rest of the tourneys. If you wanna find me, I'll be rippin' around the lake in the new hotness!

*** I'm not sure if I'm supposed to give this guy props, but the boat shown in these pictures is actually for sale on Ebay. Just search '1996 Bayliner' and it should pop up! ***

Shiver me timbers!!

2006-06-22T16:49:00.000-08:00

Shorty bought a boat this afternoon!!! We got a screamin' deal on a 16 foot 1996 Bayliner 40th Anniversary Edition lake boat. One of our softball buddies was selling it and Shorty checked it out yesterday and forked over the casheesh a couple of hours ago - and just in time for the Affordable summer party this weekend!! SA-WEET!

It's a four seater, which means that Whit, Rhonda and I can lounge while Shorty chauffers us around the lake. It's just another part of Plan: Make Whit Move Back To Squarebanks . . . .

I've been digging around on the Internet for information on our new pretty, and I think it looks something like this:

I'm a complete ass and didn't make it to Affordable during lunch to check it out, so I can't confirm the hotness of the new toy as yet. However, this does provide me with the perfect excuse to trade in my hot piece of truck for something a little bigger, as my truck has a roll pan which equals no hitch, so we have no way to tow the bo-at. You can tow boats with Mustangs, right?

That's it, nothing but water, Ex-Lax and Xyience!

2006-06-21T17:54:00.000-08:00

I love Jessica Biel. I want her body, and I don't mean that in a female prison movie sort of way. I want to look like that. I want arms like a guy. I want abs you could scrub the laundry on. I have a home gym and I've never popped out kids - there's absolutely no reason that I shouldn't look like that. So, it's on. Project Make Me As Hot As Jessica Biel starts now!!! Well, okay, it starts after my softball games tonite because I'm going to have a couple of Bud Lights, but after tomorrow, it's on!!! Well, actually, we have the lake party this weekend so I'll be drinking and shoveling down hot dogs and cheeseburgers, but after this weekend it's so on!!!

Our Newspaper is Duh duh-duh!

2006-06-19T12:52:00.000-08:00

That's 'retarded' for those of you who don't follow Carlos Mencia religiously.

The News Miner blows goats. How in the hell do you get Geri Brown from Lindsey Brown? Idiots . . . . their math is retarded, too, because I know I batted higher than a 500. And yes, Shorty, I am aware that errors don't count as runs . . . jackass . . . .

Diamonds - that'll shut 'er up!!!

2006-06-14T15:10:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm comparing my blog posts with diamonds. Not just because they're big, sparkly and incite envy amongst my friends, but because if I finally do a post, Whit will shut up and get off me. This post is for you, Fatty!

Aaaaaaand, since I have nothing more interesting than a softball tourney (we took 3rd, which sucked, but I got game MVP and I made the tournament Allstar team), friends coming in from out-of state (Mikey was here for a week and a half of crazy, drunken insanity, and the parts I remember were super fun!!!), allergies laying my butt out (I've never been allergic to anything in my LIFE, but apparently I've developed seasonal allergies, which kicked my butt for 3 1/2 weeks before I finally gave in and went to the doctor for some crack), two of my good friends getting married (CONGRATULATIONS, WARREN & SHEILAH!!!), and my birthday (I'm officially older than dirt) to write about, I hereby dedicate this post to Whit.

This is Whit and I with two of our roommates, being rowdy, as usual - yes, before you ask, there were margaritas involved - for most of us (Whit's the blonde second from the left in MY North Carolina Tar Heels sweatshirt and I'm the fuzzy half nekkid blonde at the end on the right) :

This is Whit (still in my sweatshirt) and me (in my most favoritest Tennesee Vols sweatshirt) busting down a Pink Panther sammich while our other roommate (who shall remain nameless for her own protection) looks shocked and appalled:

This is us at one of the million parties, erm, I mean Study Groups, that we hit (Whit is on the left, our other roommate and best friend is on the right and I'm in the back with the blue tongue - don't ask) :

This is us getting ready to hit up a UAF hockey game (I'm the line backer on the left, Whit's the meat in the sammich and our other best friend is the hottie on the right) :

This is us doing our Blonde Treasure Trolls imitation (Whit's on the left holding her yodeling bear, our best friend is being molested by my stuffed UAF bear and I've got Cookie Monster in a head lock) :

This is Whit and I busting down a cheerleader pose before a soccer game (I'm the cute one on the right) :

This is us getting ready to hit a Beginning of the Semster Beach Kick Off party (Whit's the tall-ass Amazon on the left and I'm the shrimp on the right) :

This is us busting down more pre soccer game cheerleading (If you can't tell us apart by now, I quit) :

And, last but not least, this is Whit and her bridesmaids channeling our inner Charlie's Angels on her wedding day (Whit's the hotty in the expensive white dress and I'm the dork on the left, shooting Lisa in the head) :

Throw Down in LA Town

2006-05-25T12:01:00.000-08:00

This entry is dedicated to wishing Matt Hughes huge amounts of luck in pounding the holy living poo out of Royce Gracie.

I heart Matt Hughes. Shorty is well aware that his status as my Cute Boy would be in sever jepordy if Matt Hughes ever sees the light, dumps his wife, and comes running to me, but Shorty has no one to blame but himself because he got me hooked on UFC.

I'm so freaked - I'm going to be in Valdez for a softball tourney so I'm missing Hughes vs Gracie this weekend, and it's going to be a bad ass fight. Gracie is an insanely good fighter and Matt is the 8 time Welter Weight champion, so this is going to be absolutely awesome and I can't watch it!

The fur flies on May 27th! Cheer for Matt!

So apparently I have allergies . . . .

2006-05-25T11:38:00.000-08:00

I don't wanna play anymore, I quit! Today was a complete waste of very expenisive eyeshadow, due to the fact that I rubbed/clawed/gouged it off within a half an hour of being at work. My eyes itch, burn and water like crazy, my nose is so stuffy I have to breath out of my mouth and my throat is itchy like a mofo. This is absolutely retarded and I'm done. I've never been allergic to anything, and one little evening of raking leaves in the back, side and front yards has reduced me to a watery, sniffling, itchy, sneezy puddle of misery. (Now that's a good visual!)

God, I solemnly swear to never make fun of or feel superior to those with allergies if you just make this go away.

Give me a regular old run-of-the-mill cold over this garbage. This is horrible. I feel like crap, and I know I look like it, too. My eyes are red and swollen and I look like I've been sobbing hysterically for the past 398 hours. This morning, Megyn told me I looked 'tired,' which is 6-year-old for, 'Wow, Lindsey, you look like ass!!'

Ugh. Valdez is going to suck if I can't kick this, and I feel really, really sorry for everyone who's staying in the motorhome because I'm going to bring down the roof with the Demonic Snoring of Death.

Speaking of Valdez, we're leaving tonite at 6:30, and hopefully I'll have lots of fun blackmail pictures to post when I get back . . . . wish us luck!

(Yes, I know my little image-guy is Spanish, but he totally looks the way I feel.)

2006-05-18T16:24:00.000-08:00

Dayquil is my friend. Dayquil makes me happy. Dayquil allows me to get through the working day when I'd rather be curled up in bed with my kittens, a large box of kleenex and a good book.

Sudafed, on the other hand, makes me loopy and unable to function properly, which I discovered last nite when Shorty told me to wake up and stop talking in my sleep because I wasn't making any sense. I made perfect sense in my dream. What does he know?

May I advise buying large quantities of stock in the Celestial Seasons tea company as I'll be heading to the store to buy out the rest of the inventory at Fred Meyers as soon as I get off work.

I feel like poo and I don't mind complaining about it. I hate being sick. :( Poor Shorty deserves tons of sympathy right now because I am a pain in the butt to live with when I don't feel well. (Whit will vouch for this one!) He was absolutely awesome last nite, though, and had a huge bowl of chicken noodle soup waiting for me as soon as I got home from my ball games. That's right, I have a Kitchen Bitch. Be jealous.

Oh, and since you all were waiting with baited breath for the update, I batted okay in my co-ed games last nite. I'm putting partial blame on the Dayquil-induced fog I was in. The rest of the blame goes on my jinx and the eeeevil umpire who called my sweet shot down the third base line foul. Bunghole . . .

The Saga Continues . . . .

2006-05-16T18:10:00.000-08:00

During my chick's league games last nite I had another in-the-parker, a few doubles and a triple that should have been another in-the-park home run except that I just didn't feel like running, (we were up 15 - 3) and I was either 10 for 10 or 9 for 9 for the nite.

Stay tuned for an exciting update on Thursday when I bitch about how horribly I batted in coed. >:(

I jinxed my ass . . . .

2006-05-11T17:14:00.000-08:00

I was o-fer in the first co-ed game (grounded out to the pitcher by trying to hit to right field - you'd think I'd learn!) and I was 1 for 3 in the second game, but only because Henry hauled ass to second and beat the throw, or else it would have been a fielder's choice and our third out. (My first hit was a great power shot out to left that the outfielder was waiting for ((bastard)) and my second hit should have been a nice grounder between short and second except that the short stop ((bastard)) stretched out and caught it.)

So apparently I bat great in women's but I suck in co-ed. >:(

In other news, I hated the dress I wore today so I hit up Old Navy during lunch and bought a cute new outfit and a matching purse. Life is better now. :)

Call me Daddy!

2006-05-09T17:57:00.000-08:00

My very first at-bat of the 2006 softball season was a rocket over the left fielder's head for an in-the-park home run. I almost lapped the runner in front of me. I was 4-5, but only because the left fielder pulled a shocking catch out of her butt, or else I would have had a second in-the-park home run.

I actually hit to right field, it was a great hit, I got an RBI and I got on base.

We won our first women's game Twenty Something to 6.

It's gonna be a good season!!!!

Make it go away!

2006-05-05T15:54:00.000-08:00

I have a song stuck in my head, and since I have to deal with the annoyance of having it playing over and over and over and over and over in my little brain, I thought I'd share it so you guys can share my pain, too.

I've had 'Love' by Keyshia Cole stuck in my head for three days - here's a link. Go, listen, share it with your friends!

I'm treating this like a cold - if you pass it on to someone else it might go away.

Dear Incredibly Rich Guy Who Wants Nothing More Than To Send Me Large Amounts of Money:

2006-05-04T17:34:00.000-08:00

As I'm sure you're aware, it's a little dicey to send large quantities of cash through the mail nowadays. Therefore, instead of sending me the obscenely large amounts of money I know you're just itching to fork over, I've compiled a list of appropriate items that you may gift me with:

~ a red 2007 Dodge Dakota 4WD 4 door pick-up with dual exhaust, chome accents and the latest Rockford system.

~ a $100,000 gift certificate to Lowes so that I can remodle my kitchen and downstairs bathroom, re-carpet our upstairs, build a small deck off of our master bedroom, take out the sliding glass door and put in French doors to access our current deck, upgrade to thermal pane windows and landscape our front, side and back yards.

~ anything off the A&F, AE, JCrew, Victorias Secret and Banana Republic websites

~ the entire Nordstroms store (instead of bequething you with the head ache of trying to chose what to purchase, just buy me the store and I'll use items as I see fit.)

~ a private jet

~ season tickets to the Chiefs, Steelers, Yankees and to UFC

~ a getaway mansion in Malibu

~ another getaway mansion in Italy

~ a yacht

~ my very own Louis Jadot vineyard

~ a new Demarini F2 bat

~ a new Miken Freak bat

I'll continue to provide you with an updated list as my gifts arrive.

Your generosity and undying love and devotion are, as always, appreciated.

- Skipper

Thanks! I think . . .

2006-05-03T17:02:00.000-08:00

A guy just told me that I look expensive. Did I just get complimented, dissed or hit on??? (Expensive, Shorty, expensive. That does not equal high maintenance!)

Now I'm wondering about this. Did he mean expensive as in an expensive hooker, or was he comparing me to an expensive stripper? Or mistress? Is this a good thing? And what exactly is his interpretation of expensive? Is he thinking Walmart expensive (shudder) or Armani expensive?

I'm going with Armani expensive. He must have been referring to my stellar fashion sense and blondbomshell looks. Pamela Anderson ain't got nothin' on me!

OUCH! MY UTERUS!!!

2006-05-02T17:31:00.000-08:00

Okay, so it's not my uterus. It's my back and it hurts like hell!

I had my first softball practice on Sunday, and instead of taking it easy and not screwing around, I decided to dick off and try to hit to right field. This constitutes me dancing around in the batters box like Happy Gilmore, completely twisting my stance around, taking a half swing and primarily using my back muscles to push the ball. Yeah, not smart. I have knots the size of golf balls trailing up my back muscles, it hurts to breathe, and I'm very, very whiney. (Couldn't tell, could ya??) Everytime I move it feels like someone's sucker punching me in the back.

I think this is God's way of telling me not to mess with my swing and that I'm not ment to hit to right field.

IT HURTS! :( *whimper*

I don't wanna play anymore, I quit!

2006-04-27T17:37:00.000-08:00

Holy crap! My life is nuts right now. Work is insane and is sucking my will to live. I've developed an unhealthy dependency on Lois Jadot Beaujolais and those little Snickers minis wrapped in the NFL foil. They're the only things that get me through the day.

It's coming up to D Day for Sheilah & Warren's wedding and we have bridal showers and bachelorette parties to plan, shoes to order, dresses to get taken in, decorations to put together . . . my head is freaking spinning right now - and it's not even my wedding! If Shorty and I ever get married, we are eloping. There is no way I will ever deal with any of this ever again.

It's summer so there are 8 million different things to get done with the house - and then we have to talk to our landscaper about transforming our yard from an unholy mud pit of dead grass, leaves and other nastiness and into an inviting, relaxing retreat from every day life. (Yes, I've been watching too much HGTV.)

Softball's starting soon. It hasn't even started yet and I'm already stressed about it and trying to cram tournaments in between camping/fishing trips.

Soccer just got over and tonite is the last nite of city league vball, so that craziness will be falling off of my list of Shit To Do.

It's gorgeous and sunny outside and all I can think about is sprawling on a lounge chair with a margarita and relaxing. Maybe I'll have time to do that somewhere around August when all this insanity dies down . . .

Note to self: Don't Scratch Butt While At Work

2006-04-05T10:06:00.000-08:00

I'm sure this has been going around the net, but I just thought I'd share . . .

Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Texas. He performs underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs. Below is an e-mail he sent to his sister. She then sent it to radio station 103.2 FM in Ft. Wayne, Indiana, which was sponsoring a "worst job experience" contest. Needless to say, she won.

"Hi Sue, Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all.

"Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job. As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this:

We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose. Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi.

Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened.

"The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt. I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator.

"His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet. As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut.

So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt. "Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."

"And whenever you have a bad day, ask yourself: is this a "jellyfish bad" day?"

ARCTIC MAN!!!!! WOO HOO!!!

2006-03-30T12:40:00.000-09:00

My super awesome friend, Karina, invited me to go to Arctic Man next weekend with her family!!!

For those of you who don't know, Arctic Man is like the ultimate party for snowmachiners. Several thousand nut bags trailer their sleds and drive to Summit, AK to watch the Arctic Man race, which involves a crazy skiier or snowboarder partnering up with an equally crazy snowmachiner. Crazy skiier/snowboarder duder launches him/herself down the mountain, hooks up with crazy snowmachine duder at the bottem and gets towed back up the mountain to the release point and then hauls butt to the finish line. The team who makes it to the finish line the fastest wins. It's tons of fun, and there are lots of cool activities, like sno cross races, the big air competition and the poker run, that go on before and after the day of the race. It's freaking awesome and was kind of a tradition for me until the last three years, which I've missed. I've totally been going into withdrawals and thanks to Karina, I get to go this year!!! WOO HOO!!! Karina popped the question the other day after soccer, and now I'm scrambling to take care of details, but I can't freaking wait!!! Power, snow, moutains, FUN!!!

This is what I'll be doing next week:

Only it will be on my dad's Ski Doo Summit 800. Yeah, I know, it's not an Arctic Cat, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. Plus, it's a great excuse to go by new gear!

I'M GOING TO ARCTIC MAN!!!

Arctic Barbie and Arctic Skipper

2006-03-29T09:47:00.000-09:00

Blogger is being poopy and won't let me add pictures to my previous post, so here are the pictures I was trying to put in.

This one is Whit and I chillin' in front of my house: (further evidence that I can't smile like a normal person . . . .)

And this is Whit and I on the couch!

I didn't miss her at all . . . . nope, not even a little bit!

It's a little difficult to be Arctic Skipper as a brunette, but I tried!

In other news, Shorty gets in tonite at 8 p.m. He left Monday morning at 8 to fly into Anchorage for eye surgery. Well, we thought he was going to have to have eye surgery, but the doctor is trying a laser cut treatment. Apparently, Shorty's eyes are starving for oxygen, so the doctor is putting 1000 little laser cuts - in each eye. *wince* So far, the count was up to 900 on his right eye and only 400 on his left eye, so he's going back in this afternoon to finish up the treatment and then he'll be coming home!!! At first, we weren't sure if this treatment would help the floaters in his eyes as the doctor reported that it was just to stop the hemmoraging, but yesterday Shorty found out that this will actually help the floaters go away, too!!! It'll take a month, but at least they'll be gone, which is absolutely fantastic!

He's been staying with our two favorite friends while he's been in Anchorage, which means that I've gotten a few goofy phone calls at midnite from Shorty and J, who've been enjoying Boy Time. J introduced Shorty to sugar-free Red Bull and Vodka and some big game hunter game on PS2 (I know I'm going to get hell for that one, but I have no idea what the game is. SORRY!) and Shorty introduced J to Distraction and Drawn Together on Comedy Central. My sincerest sympathies go out to K. Actually, we probably had this coming because the boys have had to put up with our (K and me) insanity when we get together, so I guess this is only fair. Still, I'm glad it wasn't my ass that had to put up with two rowdy boys!!! K called me at work yesterday asking what Shorty's favorite food was so they could order it for him, so it sounds like they're taking very good care of my cute boy. He even has a fuzzy cat to cuddle with! According to reports, J and K's cat, has been all over Shorty. Disloyal little traitor. Shorty, of course, thinks this is hilarious. We'll see how hard he's laughing when he gets home and Daddy's Little Princess (Ariel) smells Other Cat on him.

Speaking of Thing 1 and Thing 2, they've been very upset without Shorty at home. It's pretty pathetic. They've been moping around the house, sitting at the top of the stairs and staring at the door and wandering around the house looking for him. Even I haven't been that bad! ;) Okay, so maybe I have been having a little trouble sleeping, but it's only because that bed is so freaking huge and I'm all alone and every little creak in the house starts freaking me out . . . . God, I'm such a Sally . . . .

Arctic Barbie Girls Reunion!!

2006-03-28T16:35:00.000-09:00

Sorry it's been a while. My best friend and old roommate from college came up last week so I took the week off from work and, as I've said before, the only time I ever blog is when I'm at work. Therefore, me no at work = no update.

It was absolutely freaking AWESOME to see Whit again! I couldn't believe it had actually been 5 YEARS since we'd last seen each other. Our story is kinda funny, but I'll bust down the short, dirty version instead of the extended version. I first heard of Whit my freshman year of college. (We'll leave the actual year out since I already feel old enough, thanks very much.) I didn't know her and she didn't know me, but through gossip and misenterpretation, we absolutely detested each other. I came back to UAF my sophmore year, refreshed from a kick ass summer in Souther Cali, only to discover that my roommate for the year was none other than the eeeeevil, despicable Whitney! (dun dun dun!) I managed to avoid her bitchy butt for a couple of days, but then one fateful Fall afternoon we ended up all alone in our room together. She sat me down, we had a nice little discussion about why we hated each other, realized that every single one of our reasons was based on false information, discovered that we are a lot alike and were most probably seperated at birth (except that I'm the Cute One) and we've been inseperable ever since. (Well, up until she got married and moved to PA. ) Later that semester, Whit met Rhonda and the legacy of the Arctic Barbie Girls was born. The three of us were super close and then drifted apart, but thanks to Whit's insane visit last week, the Arctic Barbie Girls have been reunited, and it's on now! Well, it will be on as soon as one of the members dyes her hair back to blonde. (God, I'm so over this brunette thing!!)

The week went by almost too fast. It was a blur of margarita lunches at Chilis, manicures and pedicures and the consumption of several bottles of wine, which lead to my Victoria's Secret catalog being violated. (Don't ask.) Naturally, we made a trip out for a killer prime rib dinner at the Turtle Club, too. Whit also discovered how evil our exercise bike is and I got back into my workout routine. It was awesome to hang out with Whit and Rhonda again. I hadn't realized how much I had missed my two Barbie girls. Shorty got a quick, brutal initiation into my nutty relationship with Whit, and I must say, he handled it very well. He and Whit ganged up on me one nite and decided to entertain each other with some of my embarassing stories, and then I had to lay a beat down on them both, but other than that, things were great! ;)

I have a ton of pictures, but I'm going to hold off posting them (except these two of Whit and I) until I make sure it's okay with the other peeps who've been immortalized in the photos.

So, Whit's visit was great, the weather is warm and sunny and everything is melting and it's totally coming down to crunch time for Sheilah's wedding. STRESS!!

2006-03-17T11:52:00.000-09:00

Ever have one of those days where you wake up in an absolutely horrible mood and you have no idea why? You're bitchy, pissy and generally snarky with everyone all day long. You snap at your boyfriend, you snap at his daughter, you snarl at co-workers and are just generally nasty, and, after a hideious day at work, you get home only to discover that your awesome boyfriend and his daughter bought you a dozen beautiful pink roses and have whipped up a killer dinner of steamed clammies complete with big slices of thick, crusty bread. Kind of steals your thunder and leaves you drained, eh?

Welcome to my Thursday.

I need a vacation!

2006-03-08T17:10:00.000-09:00

I was glancing at the calendar and realized that it’s been almost a year since I went anywhere outside of AK. Yeah, I think it’s time for a vacation!

Shorty’s only been to Hawaii once, and I haven’t been in ages. It’s also been a while since I’ve been to Mexico, and Shorty’s never been, so I was throwing around the idea of taking a cruise, maybe to Mexico. The Carribean might be fun, too. I just feel like getting out and going somewhere hot and tropical with my cute boy . . .

The Things I Do For My Friends! Seriously!

2006-03-07T17:41:00.000-09:00

K was in town yesterday, so I woke up at the butt-crack of dawn to get ready in time to pick her up from the airport. See, I can be sweet and self-less, no matter what you hear from Shorty.

I gave K my truck for the rest of the day so she could do some running around and hit up her orthodontist appointment, which she's saying is the real reason she came to Fairbanks, when everyone knows that she really missed me terribly and just had to see me.

She picked me up at noon for lunch at Chilis, which was actually very good. I had a gigantic salad that I couldn't finish, and I was still full by the time she picked me up from work at 4. (Yes, I got off early! WOO HOO!) We headed over to Pikes and met Shea at the bar for drinks and appetizers before I had to drop K back off at the airport. I ordered the steamer clams and found a tiny little itty bitty crab in one of the shells!! Looks like he scrambled in there to try and hide (or he got eaten by a clammy) and ended up in my bowl. Hee hee. So I got steamer clams and crab!

This past weekend was a little nuts. Warren & Sheilah came over Friday nite after I painted one of the walls downstairs and we ordered burgers to-go from Red Fox, which is right down the street. Sheilah and I let the boys talking us into picking dinner up. It wasn't quite 8 and we were already in our PJs, and I didn't think anyone would really be at the Fox that early on a Friday nite, so we waltzed into the bar, Sheilah sporting her cute little penguin jammies and I decked out in my pale blue stripey PJs from Old Navy - and we walked right into a full bar! We got a few weird looks, but, hey, it's Alaska, you see people wandering around Fred Meyers in their PJs, so we felt a little dorky but not totally retarded. Two drinks (I had two glasses of chardonnay and Sheilah had two White Russians) and two Buttery Nipple shots later the fude was done, so Sheilah and I stumbled home nicely buzzed. I think that might be the last time the boys let us go get fude on our own.

Saturday nite we ordered the UFC fight on pay-per-view and ended up having a houseful of people over. It was way fun! Rhonda, Jeremy and their adorable daughter, Becca, came over for the first time. It was great to see them! I think I might get commisioned to help them paint their new house that they'll be building this summer. I may demand payment in wine, I haven't decided yet. ;) I hadn't seen Joel since the Affordable summer party, so it was good to see him again. Jimmy made an appearance and stayed for poker afterwards. Glenn, Linda and their two kids came over, as well as Tel and his cutie girlfriend, Megan. Poor Megan had to put up with Shorty trying to hit on her all nite. Someday he'll realize she's mine. :P I spend some quality time trying to steal her away from her volleyball team. She's totally wasted with them. Warren and Sheilah were there, of course, and they stayed for poker afterwards.

Sunday I got rowdy and cleaned the house again, did laundry, did a trash run and shoveled off the rest of the deck. I was totally in love with the deck when we first bought the house. That was before we got two feet of snow. Now, I hate the deck and I want it gone!!! It took me forever to shovel off that damn thing! (It's over 300 sq feet.) I bought a new OPI nail polish the week before, so Megyn came over and she and I did a foot spa and I tried out my cute new toe nail polish. (Wow, I'm becoming such a GIRL! *shudder*)

I'm off to a tanning appt and then I have to pick up the monster and get her fed and bathed before my soccer game at 8! I can't wait until this summer when I'm only playing one sport instead of two . . .

Public Service Announcement - How To Poop At Work

2006-03-02T16:52:00.000-09:00

Since the topic has been coming up in conversation so much, I thought I'd pass this along to insure that no one else has to endure what I went through this afternoon.

Those of you who know Shorty are already intimately familiar with the fart portion of this program, namely CROP DUSTING as well as THE SHORTY, which I've added at the end of the list.

HOW TO POOP AT WORK

As much as we try to convince ourselves otherwise, the WORK POOP is inevitable. For those who hate pooping at work, following is the survival guide for taking a dump at the office:

CROP DUSTING: When farting, you walk really fast around the office so the smell is not in your area and everyone else gets a whiff but doesn't know where it came from. Be careful when you do this. Do not stop until the full fart has been expelled. Walk an extra 30 feet to make sure the smell has left your pants.

FLY BY: The act of scouting out a bathroom before pooping. Walk in and
check for other poopers. If there are others in the bathroom, leave and come back again. Be careful not to become a FREQUENT FLYER. People may become suspicious if they catch you constantly going into the bathroom.

ESCAPEE: A fart that slips out while taking a leak at the urinal or forcing a poop in a stall. This is usually accompanied by a sudden wave of embarrassment. If you release an ESCAPEE, do not acknowledge it. Pretend it did not happen. If you are standing next to the farter in the urinal, pretend you did not hear it. No one likes an ESCAPEE. It is uncomfortable for all involved. Making a joke or laughing makes both parties feel uneasy.

JAILBREAK: When forcing a poop, several farts slip out at a machine gun pace. This is usually a side effect of diarrhea or a hangover. If this should happen, do not panic. Remain in the stall until everyone has left the bathroom to spare everyone the awkwardness of what just occurred.

COURTESY FLUSH: The act of flushing the toilet the instant the poop hits the water. This reduces the amount of air time the poop has to stink up the bathroom. This can help you avoid being caught doing the WALK OF SHAME.

WALK OF SHAME: Walking from the stall, to the sink, to the door after you have just stunk up the bathroom. This can be a very uncomfortable moment if someone walks in and busts you. As with farts, it is best to pretend that the smell does not exist. Can be minimized with the use of the COURTESY FLUSH.

OUT-OF-THE-CLOSET POOPER: A colleague who poops at work and is darn proud of it. You will often see an OUT-OF-THE-CLOSET POOPER enter the bathroom with a newspaper or magazine under their arm. Always look around the office for the OUT-OF-THE-CLOSET POOPER before entering the bathroom.

SAFE HAVENS: A seldom used bathroom somewhere in the building where you can least expect visitors. Try floors that are predominantly of the opposite sex. This will reduce the odds of a same-sex pooper entering your bathroom.

TURD BURGLAR: Someone who does not realize that you are in the stall and tries to force the door open. This is one of the most shocking and vulnerable moments that can occur when taking a poop at work. If this occurs, remain in the stall until the TURD BURGLAR leaves. This way you will avoid all uncomfortable eye contact.

CAMO-COUGH: A phony cough that alerts all new entrants into the bathroom that you are in a stall. This can be used to cover-up a WATERMELON, or to alert potential TURD BURGLARs. Very effective when used in conjunction with an ASTAIRE.

ASTAIRE: A subtle toe-tap that is used to alert potential TURD BURGLARs that you are occupying a stall. This will remove all doubt that the stall is occupied. If you hear an Astaire, leave the bathroom immediately so the pooper can poop in peace.

WATERMELON: A poop that creates a loud splash when hitting the toilet water. This is also an embarrassing incident. If you feel a WATERMELON coming on, create a diversion. See CAMO-COUGH.

HAVANA OMELET: A case of diarrhea that creates a series of loud splashes in the toilet water. Often accompanied by an ESCAPEE. Try using a CAMO-COUGH with an ASTAIRE.

UNCLE TED: A bathroom user who seems to linger around forever. Can spend extended lengths of time in front of the mirror or sitting on the pot. An UNCLE TED makes it difficult to relax while on the crapper, as you should always wait to poop when the bathroom is empty. This benefits you as well as the other bathroom attendees.

And, last but not least, THE SHORTY: When you feel the need to share a fart with co-workers, but still wish to remain anonymous, THE SHORTY is the best technique to use. Nonchalantly stroll over to an unoccupied phone, tear one off and move away. If your desk is within eyesight of the phone, return to your desk. If not, move to a neuatral location and pull out your cell phone. Call the number of the phone. Snicker gleefully as the unsuspecting victim answers the phone and is hit with the eye-watering stench.

Chilis doesn't suck quite as much

2006-03-02T15:29:00.000-09:00

The first time we ventured to the new Chilis restaurant, the experience was so sucky that we vowed never to go back and actually gave away the $40 in gift certificates we got because everything was so terrible. When I say everything, I mean everything. The service was crap, the food was crap, the way we were treated was crap, the way the situation was handled was crap - everything was crap. Yes, it was that bad.

A few weeks after our horrible experience, Shorty decided to give Chilis another chance and popped in to order something to-go. Once again, service was horrible, attitudes of servers were horrible, the food wasn't that great and we renewed our vow to never step foot in Chilis again.

Last weekend we drove by, figured that it had been a few months and maybe they had gotten the kinks ironed out, and tossed around the idea of hitting Chilis up again soon.

Last nite Sheilah called and demanded (yeah, there was no asking!) that we meet she and Warren for dinner at Chilis. On our way there, Shorty informed me that he'd been told that the entire managerial staff had been fired and different people had been hired, so we hoped that this was a sign that we were in for a better experience. After all, third time is a charm, right?

This time, the service wasn't bad, (but we're so used to being spoiled by the bartenders at Brewsters and the Fox) my salad was actually really good and I had the most kick ass margarita ever! The bartender chick was even cool and played along with our retarded game of trying to think of a drink/type of alcohol for every letter of the alphabet. So, Chilis doesn't suck quite as much as it used to, but they don't have the Stuffed Southwestern Shrimp required to shift my undying loyalty away from Brewsters. Cause my shrimpies ROCK!

We're still stuck on drinks/types of alcohol that start with the letters 'Q' 'U' and 'X.' Help? HAH!! I just thought of U!! Urquell!!! It's a brand of beer we served at Pump House back in the day. Okay, now we just need Q and X. :)

Shorty still sucks because he won't let me get a miniature pinscher. :( (Yes, I want a miniature. I don't want a dog that poops bigger than I do!)

How freaking adorable is this??!

2006-03-01T14:32:00.000-09:00

And Shorty won't let me get one!!! :( I think the kittens would love a little puppy to snuggle with.

Shorty's mean. >:(

I am officially a wino

2006-02-28T20:01:00.000-09:00

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

2006-02-27T18:37:00.000-09:00

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!!!

2006-02-27T17:57:00.000-09:00

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. :P

Friday 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.

2006-02-22T17:48:00.000-09:00

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

2006-02-13T11:46:00.000-09:00

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:

2006-02-10T15:59:00.000-09:00

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!!!

2006-02-06T12:24:00.000-09:00

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

2006-02-03T11:10:00.000-09:00

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 . . . ???

2006-02-03T10:49:00.000-09:00

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! :)

Some Days You're The Mouse, Some Days You're The Printer

2006-01-24T17:26:00.000-09:00

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:

2006-01-24T13:08:00.000-09:00

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!

2006-01-11T13:01:00.000-09:00

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 Woe

All 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

2006-01-06T12:10:00.000-09:00

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:

2006-01-04T21:51:00.000-09:00

"Shorty, get the cat's head out of your mouth!"

Poor Ariel.

I am a very responsible drinker

2006-01-04T18:54:00.000-09:00

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

2006-01-04T18:51:00.000-09:00

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

2006-01-04T16:44:00.000-09:00

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!

2006-01-04T12:47:00.000-09:00

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!!!

2005-12-23T10:15:00.000-09:00

So I had a little temper tantrum last nite while trying to put the boarder up in Megyn's room. Directions clearly state to loosely roll the boarder up, soak it in warm water, with the sticky side down, for about 10 seconds, unroll along the wall and smooth with a sponge. Sounds simple and fairly easy, right? The directions said nothing about getting the boarder stuck in your hair, having it slide all over the wall and slime your pretty new paint job, tear, drip, and curl back in on itself. About 5 minutes into the job I was dripping wet, sticky, and really, really pissed off. Ariel decided it was cuddle time and chose that moment to launch herself onto my shoulders and get her balance by gouging her back claws into my skin. (Whoever said that de-clawing a cat's back paws was inhumane needs to stop smoking crack and deserves a couple of rips in the shoulders with cat claws.) Poor Shorty called right then and got blasted with all my frustration. Although he does have a newly-discovered, horrifying fascination with mother on daughter action, (I'm sticking with my opinion that the Gastineau girls are dirty hos - anyone who poses nekkid in her mom's cooch is automatically regulated to dirty ho status) there are some situations where he demonstrates surprising intelligence and sensetivity, and this was one of them. Two seconds after he walked in the front door, he busted out my Christmas presents!!! He bought me a gorgeous heart shaped diamond necklace and matching earring set (yes, I got teary - I'm such a Sally!) and a gift card to Lowes! (Yes, the way to my heart is jewelry and gift cards for home improvement. I will own Lowe's curtain and window treatment section by next week! Oh, yes, I will! Call me daddy!) Since I hadn't wrapped his gifts yet, I just handed them over, too. (He got warm, fuzzy fleecy sweatpants and three warm, fuzzy, fleecy sweatshirts from Foot Locker - so he'll stop stealing mine!) I had pretty much had it with trying to get Megyn's room done, so we headed down to Red Fox for dinner and a few drinks. When we got home, the last thing on the damn planet I wanted to do was finish putting up that freaking boarder and risk ruining my good mood, so we *coughhadafewmoredrinkscough* decided to be lazy slugs. Shorty played poker online, I played with the kittens, (the LOVE their laser light) read a book and taunted Shorty whenever he lost a hand. Yes, yes, I know, I know - I'm such a kind, loving, suppportive girlfriend. Shorty's so lucky to have me.

Tonite I have to get that #@*%&^! boarder done, though. :(

Yet another reason (like we need one!) to detest the Trailer Trash Gastineau Girls!

2005-12-22T12:52:00.000-09:00

I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.

Go, Santa, go, Santa, it's ya birfday, go, Santa! Go! Go! Go!

2005-12-21T16:34:00.000-09:00

deer santa:

I wud like a kool toy space ranjur 4 Xmas. Iv ben a gud boy all yeer.

Yer Frend, BiLLy

Dear Billy,

Nice spelling. You're on your way to a career in lawn care. How about I
send you a frigging book so you can learn to read and write? I'm giving
your older brother the space ranger. At least HE can spell!

Santa
* * * * * * * * * *
Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is peace and joy in the world for everybody!

Love, Sarah

Dear Sarah,

Your parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?

Santa
****************
Dear Santa,

I don't know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I'd like for my mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do.

Love, Teddy

Dear Teddy,

Look, your dad's banging the babysitter like a screen door in a hurricane.
Do you think he's gonna give that up to come back to your frigid, fat mom, who rides his ass constantly? It's time to give up that dream. Let me get you some nice Leggos instead. Maybe you can build yourself a family with those?

Santa
*********************
Dear Santa,

I want a new bike, a Playstation, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a drum kit, a pony and a tuba.

Love, Francis

Dear Francis,

Who names their kid "Francis" nowadays? I bet you're gay.

Santa
******************
Dear Santa,

I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots for your reindeer outside the back door.

Love, Susan

Dear Susan,

Milk gives me the shits and carrots make the deer fart in my face when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Two words, Jim Beam.

Santa
Dear Santa,

What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy making toys?

Your friend, Thomas

Dear Thomas,

All the toys are made by little kids like you in China. Every year I give them a slice of bread as a Christmas bonus. I have a condo in Vegas, where I spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses while losing money at the craps table.

Santa
P.S.: Tell your mom she got the part.

I'm not as think as you drunk I am!

2005-12-20T18:04:00.000-09:00

Is it a bad thing when your coworker gets you a very large bottle of Amaretto for Christmas, and then proceeds to tell everyone that she got them gifts that reminded her of them?

WA HOO! WE'RE DRINKIN' FER FREE TONITE!

My Mother Holds A Grudge

2005-12-20T17:45:00.000-09:00

I'm not quite sure what she's upset about, but evidently, she's harboring some resentment. There's no other explanation as to why my wonderful, kind, loving mother - the woman who raised me, taught me how to shoot a three pointer and drive a stick - would tell me that painting my house would be a 'fun' experience. It took me 45 minutes to tape off the hallways, which took me only 20 mintues to paint.

The inventor of trim is a sadistic bastard who's obviously never had to paint a room before.

I'm exhausted, and the combination of paint fumes, But Lite (note to self: drinking while painting not so smart) and 5 hours of sleep have left me with a brutal headache.

The hallway upstairs, the entry way and the hallway downstairs that leads into the garage look awesome, though, and the kittens managed to escape unpainted. (Shorty wisely locked himself and Thing 1 and Thing 2 in our bedroom while I was 'making our house pretty.' Smart boy.)

I don't understand why my mother didn't warn me about what I was getting myself into. Mom makes Martha Stewart look like an amature. She is a home decorating bad ass. She knew exactly what I was getting myself into. Instead of cautioning her loving, adoring, innocent daughter, she gave me painting tips! The woman hates me. So, Mom, I'm sorry for losing your favorite pair of earrings on a basketball trip my sophmore year in high school, stretching out your favorite sweater, stealing your cute cream colored linen pants and drinking all the coffee.

Anyone want to come tape off the rest of the rooms for me?