Listing brain

I have been doing lots of lists for Facebook lately so I decided that my Friday post will be in list form with no apparent rhyme or reason. I'm just going to tip my brain to the side and see what comes out.

1. I'm in desparate need of a new bra but I hate to bra shop. How do I know I need a new bra? My boobs keep spilling out of the sides! It probably looks like I have three to four boobs in there. I don't know what went wrong with this bra. It started out so well. I like Victoria Secret bras. But since they are so damn expensive you would think they would keep these sisters in check for at least a year. Don't you think that's reasonable? I suppose in this economic climate I should give other bras a try. I don't care about the name brand, I just need a bra that's going to hold these chesticles up and out there, right in your face.

2. I haven't been in a mall since a few days after Christmas. I have no desire to do so and that is why #1 is such a problem.

3. A Shepard funny--One morning Shepard crawled in bed with me and I told him, "Why don't you go kiss your brother awake." He said, "I can't! His breath smells like HORRID!"

4. I have been loading up my iTunes with all my CDs. I haven't listened to some of these CDs in years and now I can. Today I was listening to my iPod and came across a song I haven't heard in forever. It was an En Vogue song called "My Lovin' (You're never gonna get it.) The song made me think of college and my roommate during my 5th year (yeah, I was on the 5 year plan or so I told my parents.) Ok, stick with me here. Do you remember when it was cool to make funny and creative messages for your answering machine? Well, it must have been during my 5th year of college since my roomie and I did a message to that En Vogue song. It was the part when they break it down and sing "Never gonna get it, never gonna get it, never gonna get, never gonna get it, never gonna get it"...yeah, you get the picture. Except in our message sang, "Never gonna get us, never gonna get us, never gonna get...etc." and I did the "Whoa whoa whoa whoa" part. I just remember doing it over and over to get it just right and laughing and laughing the whole time. That's why I have a hard time getting rid of my old music because those songs evoke great memories.

5. Whew, that was a long one. Here's a short one--How come every time you come around my London, London Bridge wanna go down?

6. Alan gained a little weight around the holidays and has been very sensitive about it. You might think I would be more sensitive about his sensitivities but I am not going to coddle him. Coddling causes weakness. I think he looks as hot as ever so in an effort to snap him out of it, I have been going out of my way to tease him. I've been pulling from my 'Yo Momma's so fat' repertoire. Like this--Alan's so fat he has his own area code. Alan's so fat that his belly button doesn't have lint, it has sweaters. Alan's so fat when he steps on the scale it says 'To be continued.' Ha! Reverse psychology works, right? And it's more amusing. If you think of anymore fat insults, please send them along. It's for a good cause--Alan's self esteem.

7. The best thing happened last night. Alan leaned over to tuck Shepard into bed and broke the bed. Yes, it was perfect fodder for my 'Build Alan's self esteem' plan. Well, I will admit that the boys' bunk bed is a cheap ass piece of crap but the timing couldn't be more perfect. Now I have a new one--Alan's so fat, when he laid his lips on his son's head to kiss him goodnight, the mattress broke through the bed frame. Classic!

8. I have a girl crush on Padma Lakshmi from Top Chef.

9. I love the way Shepard blames Sage for everything. If we can't find something, Sage took it. If something breaks, Sage broke it. If he trips, Sage made him do it. If a cat pees on the laundry, Sage did it. Now we're all doing it. Whatever goes wrong, we just say, "Sage did it." It's a good thing George W was around to take the blame or Shepard might have blamed Sage for Hurricane Katrina, global warming, the tsunami, and the housing bubble bursting.

10. Speaking of Sage, he refuses to get a haircut. Since it's winter, I have been indulging him and now his hair is quite big. For a joke at Christmas, we bought him a pack of Afro picks. He loves them and sometimes will stick one in his hair and leave it there, like Freddie Washington in 'Welcome Back, Kotter.'

Mr. Kah-TARE!

Derby Day

I am writing this on Saturday morning. It is an exciting day for, you see, today is Pinewood Derby Day! My son Sage is a Cub Scout and Alan is his den leader. Every year in January, Cub Scouts everywhere are given a block of wood, four nail and four wheels. From this block of wood they are expected plan, design, and make their own racing car. Parents of cubs are only supposed to give advice and help with any dangerous cutting. On Derby Day, we all gather and the pack races these cars down a wooden track to determine the ultimate winner.

So for two years, Sage has been the main designer and builder of his vehicle. And for two years he has never won jack! Zilch! Nada! Not even one heat. Two losses and he was out. However, I noticed as we stood by and watched the other boys go on to compete for the win, there were an awful lot of dads standing around talking about their car design, where they distributed their weight and how they got their wheels to run so smoothly. Seems the dads are the ones competing, hmmmmm.

This year I told Alan, "I want Sage to win at least one race this year. So YOU make the car, leave him out of it. Oh, maybe he could paint it or something, but you do it. He has got to win!!" Alan worked very hard for 3 days on the car. Sage painted it in a camouflage pattern and named the car--The Camo Commando!! So, full of hope and anticipation, we are leaving for the race very soon. I will write the rest of this post later with the results. Cross your fingers!

THE RESULTS

Well, it's a good thing that Alan is pretty because he cannot build a damn derby car. Yes, Camo Commando went down in flames, just like Sage's previous cars--Pod Racer and Turbo Python. It didn't even win once. Sage was a good sport but in private told me, "This is stupid!" I agree, it is stupid. Stupid, stupid!! Beside they can do other things very well. Sage can climb a tree like he was born in a jungle and Alan can cook a steak to a perfect medium rare (honestly, it will make you cry in happiness it tastes so good.) So there are more important things that silly wooden racing cars.

The rest of the day was kind of a nightmare too. We came home to find that the cat had thrown up all over our hallway carpet. I had to leave Alan with that mess while I took Shepard to a birthday party. I am not sure who had the rawest deal--Alan, who spent the afternoon cleaning up cat puke or me, stuck in Chuck E. Cheese on a Saturday in the midst of eight birthday parties. It's a toss up.

Hopefully we can salvage the day. The kids are at grandma's for the night and Alan and I are going to dinner and spending the evening alone. He might even get lucky, if he doesn't piss me off. Ha!

I've been committed

I was looking back and realized that I have been blogging on a consistent basis for about a year. Ok, there were a couple of lapses here and there when my lazy fingers couldn't make it to the keyboard but, for the most part, I was committed to blogging this year. I have really enjoyed it and I hope all three to four of you who read my blog have enjoyed it too. But there comes a time in every bloggers life when you have to ask yourself--should I continue? do I really have anything worth saying anymore? It took me about half a second to decide that I probably shouldn't continue and I know I don't have anything worth saying. (And here's my big) BUT that hasn't stopped me in the past and it won't stop me now. So on I go.

I went for a massage recently at a school for massage therapists. My mom told me about it and I decided to try it since they give a one hour massage for $25 which is a killer deal. The catch is that you are the guinea pig for their learning hands. And that's not the only catch apparently which I learned while I was reading all the terms and conditions. I had to sign this little waiver before the massage in which I had to agree to act appropriately, not contact the student outside of the school for massages, be free from sickness, and wear underwear. Oops. You see, as I might have mentioned before, I am not a fan of underwear. So my first embarrassment of the day was having to tell the secretary at the massage school that I was not wearing any underwear. Then I was passed off to my therapist (who was informed that I was not wearing any underwear.) My therapist was a woman. When I have the choice I usually pick a woman because I really cannot relax with a man massager. I am too preoccupied thinking about stuff like--'Oh crap, I didn't shave my legs' or 'Are my nipples hard?' or 'Did he just peek when I turned over?' So I prefer women--in my massagers anyway. But I do like a big burly woman with strong hands. So when my massage lady asked me about the amount of pressure I like during a massage I said, "I like it hard." And that was my second embarrassing moment of the day. Did I actually say that?!

The massage went fine but I swear, no matter how much I tell them, they never spend enough time on my back and shoulders. Geez, my feet and hands really don't need that much attention. I don't lay down at the end of the day and say "Wow, my feet feel really tense tonight."

In conclusion, I am so glad that I can tell you about these little gems in my life because I wouldn't dare tell anyone else.

I want to be a BIG loser!

Since the new year I have been watching shows like "The Biggest Loser" and "National Body Challenge" and I have learned something--Losing weight is hard!! But these people on the shows have inspired me. After much discussion, Alan and I have finally come up with a diet plan we think we can live with. We have decided to eat and eat until we become morbidly obese and then have the weight loss surgery. How genius is that! Seems much easier to me. Exercise--Pshaw!! Healthy eating--Feh!! They're not so important in the whole scheme of things. Let's face it, I am way to busy with saving the planet, raising my children (and the neighbors' children--it takes a village, ya know), working hard to pay my taxes, and making sure my children are winners so they have self esteem.

I am just glad I came to this realization on this day of new beginnings. Yay, Obama! I figure by the time he is good and settled into the White House I will be well on my way to the goal weight of 100 pounds--OVERweight, that is! Then The Big O can slide me a piece of that pie (and that one and that one) to pay for my weight loss surgery. Oh, I'll also need some plastic surgery to get rid of all that unwanted skin and maybe to fix the huge cavern that is my nose.




So I am off for an Inaugural Day celebration lunch at Mickey D's. Super size that, please!!

Whose is bigger?!

We have two attics in our house--a walk up attic and a smaller space behind our master closet. A few years ago I was putting clothes away in our closet attic and due to a misstep happened to step on some exposed drywall. My foot went through the floor of the attic. It is a large grapefruit sized hole which allows us to see down into our garage. We have never repaired it and there are three reasons for that: 1. It is small 2. It is useful for spying on the children (to see if they're plotting on us.) and 3. We don't know how to fix it. We are not a handy people. However, I have had to endure years of teasing from my husband about putting my foot through the floor. He found it very amusing and somehow equated my putting my foot through the floor to being a silly air headed woman.

Well, tee hee. Guess what happened this weekend? We were straightening up for company on Saturday night. We like to have friends over on a fairly regular basis because it forces us to clean the house. In this case it was the motivation we needed to finally put away our Christmas tree that was still sitting in the living room. So Alan was working on that little project when all of a sudden I hear a big bump. I called up to him, "Alan?!" But no answer. A few minutes later I hear Alan call, "Um Houston, we have a problem. Come up here now!" As I climbed the stairs I saw Alan standing at the top with his head in his hand. As I emerged into the hallway this is what I found...

Yep, seems Alan had a misstep of his own while putting the tree away. Except it wasn't just his foot, it was almost his entire right leg. See all that brown stuff on the floor? That's all the insulation that dropped out. At first I was stunned then I laughed. Alan told me how he was hanging there with his right leg through the floor and the Christmas tree on top of him. With that image in my head I asked him, "Was your leg kicking?" Then I laughed until I cried. I made sure he was ok first, of course. One thing I know for sure is that I don't think I will be teased about my hole anymore. Let compare. Whose hole is bigger?

<--------My hole

Alan's hole--------->

When he goes, he goes big!!!

Yay Alan!!!

A new beginning!!!

No, not really. It's the same old me with the same old issues in 2009--husband, kids, weight, waxing. It's just me in 2009--Just J.Hi.

So, after my last panicked post things did improve. I was able to get in every Christmas thing I envisioned--cookies, decorations, lights, Santa, Nutcracker, shopping and family time. Unfortunately, no blogging or computer stuff at all. But, it was quite a nice holiday. I won't go so far as to say it was a vacation because it takes a lot of work to be that jolly. I had to work at 7 am on Christmas day--nurses are essential personal you know (or that's what I tell myself to get through it.) Anyway, my plan was to get up at 5:15 to take my shower and dress, wake the kids at 5:45 to have our Christmas morning and then leave for work by 6:30. The best laid plans, huh? The kids were jumping up on our bed by 4:45. So they had a plan of their own.

The most exciting gifts from Christmas include--Sage's Vulcan EBF-25 Nerf machine gun. We all took turns playing Rambo and peppering the evil terrorists (aka the cats) with our bendy ammo. I got a pretty purple iPod Nano. It's too bad the only time I listen to my iPod is when I'm doing something unpleasant like working out or cutting the grass. Alan received a set of satin sheets for our bed (from me.) We were very excited to try them out so we made the bed and climbed in. Alan declared it "Boner City." It did feel quite yummy. However, the sheets are also quite slidey. Everything slides off quite easily--comforter, children, mothers. It is also hard to get any traction for...well, things you need traction for.

Today was supposed to be the day I emerged from the Bat Cave and joined the real world again--wearing clothes other than sweats, coffee with friends, wearing a bra again. However, Shepard's got a case of the vomits. So, I guess I can stand one more day of lazy and blogging and catching up on my favorite blogs and reading and Wii. I love sick days.

Oh by the way, just for curiosity's sake, I googled 'boner city' and found that there is an actual song by that name. I've never heard of the band but this video is quite hilarious. Is the lead singer humping that guy? Check it out.