www.Ambuh.com

Woo Hoo!!! I had some time tonight to start working on my new blog. LOL suzie and val...it was kinda boring at first, huh?? So, please change your blogrolls because I won't be here anymore! New site: www.ambuh.com Blog location: www.ambuh.com/b2e

One last thing about Mothers.

I always call my mom, my step mom and both of my grandmothers on mother's day. N called C to say hi, but she was a little grumpy and not feeling very talkative, so I didn't get to talk to her. That's okay though. I don't expect anything from my step daughter when it comes to mother's day. She is only 7, and most holiday stuff like this is initiated by the other parent anyways, and regardless of how well her mom and I get along I doubt that she would make a point to have C call or send me a card. That's okay though. I learned a long time ago that being a good step mom means that you love her like your own, but don't expect all the mommy "perks" in return. I talked with both of my grandmas for about a half hour each, which is always nice. One grandma isn't really the phone type. I really only talk with her when we go to visit, and once or twice a year. My other grandma is a chatterbox, and I love to talk with her. I usually call her once every other month or so. I think that grandmothers don't call often because they think that young people have these crazy busy lives and don't have time for grandmas, which is so untrue. I always have time for grandmas. I called my mom to say hi, but we only talked for a bit because she was getting ready to go to church. I also called my step mom and talked to her for a while. My step mom doesn't have custody of her son, who's 15, and I know it's hard for her on mother's day, so I always call. Well, I'd call anyways just because she's a great friend to me. Not much to my surprise, my mother was the only one of them who did not wish me a happy mothers day in return. Is it petty that it pissed me off?? YES Do I care that I'm being petty?? NO *enter Amber, stepping up onto soapbox* Step mothers are mothers too. No, we did not give birth to these children, but none the less we are a parent figure. Being a good step parent has its rewards but can be a thankless task at times. I know my mother. She's out for grandkids. I'm sure she stews and mulls about it. When is Amber going to give me a grandchild...MuahhHahhHahhaHaa. Evil, I tell you. Even though C calls her grandma - is that not enough for me to be considered a mother? My step sister (single mom w/ 15 month old baby girl) told me that my mom completely ignores her when she brings her daughter over to visit and that all she cares about is seeing her grand baby. Now, putting aside my mother being a bitch to my step sister, how is her baby any more of a grandchild than my step daughter?? *ok. enough. stepping off of soapbox*

******

Finally and most importantly, Noah wrote me a really beautiful note for Mother's Day. Made me all teary eyed. He's so sweet.

Mother

This is what Dictionary.com says, and here's where I think I fit in: moth·er1 n. 1. A woman who conceives, gives birth to, or raises and nurtures a child. Raising and nurturing my step daughter, albiet on a part time basis - check! 2. A female parent of an animal. Although I think they mean the actual animal parent... Mommy to Buxley Buddha, Hairy Fishna and Macy Grey - check! 3. A female ancestor. Nope, I think you have to be dead to be an ancestor. 4. A woman who holds a position of authority or responsibility similar to that of a mother: a den mother. Nope. 5. Roman Catholic Church. a. A mother superior. b. Used as a form of address for such a woman. Um, definitely No. 6. A woman who creates, originates, or founds something: “the discovery of radium, which made Marie Curie mother to the Atomic Age” (Alden Whitman). Nope. To my knowledge, I have not invented anything fantastic, yet. Although, you could say I'm the mother of making cute little triangle catnip toys. Not quite grandiose enough to warrent "mother" though. 7. A creative source; an origin: Philosophy is the mother of the sciences. N/A 8. Used as a title for a woman respected for her wisdom and age. Nope. I think that one is reserved for very old fashioned men helping elderly ladies, like "Can I help you across the street mother?" 9. Maternal love and tenderness: brought out the mother in her. Most certainly, yes. If nothing else, being a step mother has brought this out in me. 10. The biggest or most significant example of its kind: the mother of all battles. Ooh! Now, this one is one I wish someone would use for me. For instance: Amber made the mother of all chocolate cakes! 11. Vulgar Slang. Something considered extraordinary, as in disagreeableness, size, or intensity. Mother F*cker! To the best of my knowledge, I don't think anyone has ever called me that, yet.

Coffee Zen

He likes it black in a white cup. She likes it sugary and creamy in a black cup.

Painting Casualty

I went to the optometrist today because my left eye was hurting. In the morning and evening when my contacts were out I felt like someone was scraping my eyeball with something pointy. Ewe, right? Well, I went and my doctor said I had a scratched cornea (yeowch!!). And before he prescribed me some anti-inflamitory drops, he said that he'd take a look under my eyelid just to make sure there wasn't anything in there. There was. A nice little spot of white paint, stuck to the inside of my upper eyelid. **Amber flashes back to the day before, the same day that the eye started hurting, back in time where she was hammering the lid back onto the white paint can, paint splattering all over the left side of her face*** ....sheesh... So, the $29 piece of paint was removed with a q-tip and my eyeball feels much better now.

Oh, That's Nice

So, the janitor and I made up. I think he forgave me for mentioning him spilling coffee grounds all over my chair, and I am no longer annoyed about said incident. Last Friday, he was making his rounds emptying trash cans and I greeted him with a friendly "Hi." He says "Hello," then... "Now, just to let you know, we found black widow spiders in the ladies bathroom down the hall. So, be careful when you go in there." I know that was intended as a gesture of kindness, and I do appreciate it. That being said, I will never step a foot into that bathroom again. I will not put my self in any kind of position where I'm caught with my pants down in a room where not only is there a possibility of people walking in but also where poisonous spiders are KNOWN to reside. I will be marching my happy ass up 3 flights of stairs to use the ladies room from this day forward. Friday night I even had dreams about spiders. Awful bad dreams that were so bad I even kicked Noah in the shin so hard he yelled in the middle of the night. Sorry honey, I was just killing the evil bad spiders.

We Painted!!

We painted the kitchen and tv room today (they are in the same area, like a great room). We haven'te hung any pictures back up, but we are just loving it!! Here are the pictures. I posted the before and afters, so you just scroll through :)

Happy Mothers Day

Happy Mother's Day to all my fellow step moms, mums, fur-mamas and mommies of all kinds!! I hope everyone has a great day :) Noah and I are working on putting the house back together from painting yesterday (which turned out fantastic, btw) I'm hoping to post pictures later.

Inspiration Strikes

So, I'm sitting here thinking about what I want to post. I have my blogger window open, blank, staring back at me. Nothing. I minimize the window and work for a while, thinking to myself - I could write about how excited I am that we're painting the inside of the house this weekend, or how I'm dreading going to my old place of employment tomorrow morning to train 2 new people (that should actually be fairly entertaining), or how I bought a set of dishes at Target then returned them 2 days later after reading the online reviews, or how it's Friday and I really don't feel like working. So, I stop working, start twiddling my hair, spacing off...the Amber norm. Then I remember that I have my Abreva in my bag and open my desk drawer and need to put some on my lip. I flip back the flap on my litte khaki bag and this little hairy spider crawls out of the inside pocket. I jumped out of my chair with a delayed squeaky almost squealing gasp, grabbed the bag by the shoulder strap and dumped the contents out in the middle of my office floor. I'm scouring the pile, my pink purse, a few coupons, pieces of paper, bunch of quarters and a book and I see nothing. That little creepy crawly is still inside the purse. *deep breath* I open up the bag and there it is!! I gasp again and drop the bag. (Damn it I'm a weenie) I pick up the bag and shake it upside down until the little hairy occupant climbs out on the floor. For a moment I considered grabbing a piece of paper and scooping him up to put it outside, but he starts crawing toward me and without hestation I squished him with my boot. Now I'm having spider squishing guilt. At least at home they go to a good cause (feeding the cat).

Kitchen Pictures

The "Before" Pictures.

Look away, I'm hideous

- Cosmo Kramer I woke up yesterday with a nasty cold sore. I haven't had one in years, and it is driving me crazy. I've been using abreva, the cold sore wonder cream and that seems to be helping but I can't not focus on it. This big blistery nasty thing on my upper lip. Gross. And right now I have the hiccups, which pisses me off. I've been trying to hold my breath, that doesn't work. I don't have any peanut butter, and I just don't feel coordinated enough to try and drink a glass of water up side down. I haven't been getting enough sleep lately. My lazy ass needs more than 6 hours for me to not feel like a sack of potatoes all day, and the lack of sleep makes the dark circles under my eyes darken further, which is quite lovely. I tried those Biore, pore strips. You know - where you put it on your nose, rip it off and inspect the little forest of disgustingness that came out of your pores. That actually worked great, but afterwards I didn't wash my face so now where the edge of the strip was on eather side of my nose, there are two lovely matching zits. And the only thing that's running through my mind is, "I feeeeeeeeeeeeel pretty, ohh so preetty, I feel pretty and witty and bright!!" Not quite.

"If money is the root of all evil, then why are churches always asking for it?" I'm not sure who said it first, but interesting question, isn't it? ETA My answer to my own cynical question: Because churches are businesses, not only do they want to "save your soul" they want 10% of your income to do it. And yes, like my dear church going friends pointed out, churches do "help" a lot of people (btw, just because I'm bitter about church doesn't mean I don't love and accept my friends that that do go). But if they didn't help people, they would be much less popluar, therefore reducing the membership, thus reducing the tithes they bring in. If my parents can be members of a church for 10 years, pay their tithe every single Sunday, divorce, and then basically be shunned out of the church, then it can happen to anyone. If I was going to pay 10% of my salary to a social club, I'd prefer a country club where at least they serve likker and they couldn't kick me out for being human.

Mind Fog

Today is one of those days where I know I should be feeling really happy. It's Friday. I already finished all of my work for today. I just ate my turkey on whole wheat pita sandwich for lunch, which was really tasty. Before my boss left today he told me that he was working at home last night and was bragging to his wife about how awesome of an assistant I am. All really great things that you would think add up to Amber being happy today. But, I'm just not feelin' it. Instead I feel completely boring, un-inspired and uptight.

Blogthings - Nevada

I just had to post this. I was talking to Mel the otherday about how there are little sections of ever grocery store that are "smoking" because they have slot machines...

You Know You're From Nevada When...

You prefer In and Out to McDonalds and Del Taco to Taco Bell You can count cards You know that prostitution is illegal in Las Vegas You've wondered if your cab ride will end up on Taxi Cab Confessions More of your friends were born in California than Nevada Your car's overheated - before you started driving You know what all the combinations mean on a slot machine You see more billboards than trees on the road You've seen a red leather male chastity belt in full color on the front page of the living section You have legal brothels within a half hour's drive of your state legislature You have a smoking section in your supermarket You have ever thought New Jersey sounded like a nice, wholesome place to visit You know that Pahrump is not actually the punchline of a bad joke. At least, not always You know which one is Roy and which one is Siegfried Your car payment is higher than your rent You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Nevada.

Get Your Own "You Know You're From" Meme Here More cool things for your blog at Blogthings

C'mon! I'm wearing light colored pants!

I got to work this morning, unlocked my office, sat down, logged in to my computer and started working... After an hour or so I got up, did a few things around the office, then walked over to another building to pickup some supplies. As I walk into the building I notice the reflection of my butt on the revolving door glass and there is a nice sized brown spot on my left butt cheek (well, on my pants on my left butt cheek). This is the first time I've worn these pants to work, so I'm pissed. They're stone colored with pink pinstripes, wide leg, and way gorgeous. So, I look around and make sure there isn't anyone around and I check out the spot. Ever tried to look at your own ass with out a mirror?? It's like trying to bite your own ear. Anyways, I brush off the debris, or what I thought was dirt (maybe from sitting on my boot ?), and it gets a little less noticeable. I was puzzled - how could this get on my butt? I checked my boots, no mud or dirt. The dogs didn't jump on me at all this morning. I just washed these pants and would have noticed a spot when I ironed them. I head back to my office, and when I get there the light is hitting my black chair just right and I notice some crumb-looking debris on my chair. After getting closer I realize that it isn't crumbs or dirt, it's coffee. Lovely. I have coffee ground stains on my pants. Now, where did these mysterious coffee grounds come from? I checked the floor, nothing. They were only on my chair. Then it occurred to me that 2 days ago when my buddy the janitor was emptying the trash he spilled it and got coffee grounds all over the floor. I watched him clean it up, but that was 2 days ago. I've sat in my chair since then, so this is another coffee ground spilling? I went over to another department in our area to inquire about the janitor's name, and found out that he also has made messes and "forgotten" to take the trash out on several occasions. It's a good thing he wasn't around when I discovered my coffee butt, or he would have gotten an earful. What do I say to him this afternoon if I see him? Ugh!!

Breakfast Discovery

Cinnamon Roll Flavor instant oatmeal + Blueberries = mmmmmmmmmm The warm comforting smell of cinnamon permiates the room, I suddenly feel warm and at home. I take a bite, mmm, close eyes... THAT is good. The blueberries, little capsules of delight are warm too, and burst in my mouth with each bite and distribute a sweet yet tangy flavor throughout the oatmeal. Since when is eating healthy this delightful?

What Personality Disorder Are You?

Saw this on Lex's blog...

You May Be a Bit Dependent ...

You're more than a little preoccupied with being abandoned. You need a lot of support in your life, at all times. It's difficult for you to survive on your own... And you don't reallly think you ever could.

What Personality Disorder Are You?

Trash Anonymity

I've been at my new job coming up on 5 weeks (and still totally love it btw...) and am getting to know the staff a bit more. When I first started, I did the whirlwind meet and greet and immediately forgot the names of all of the new people I met. While making copies today I figured out the names of two ladies that work in the department next to mine. No divine revalation, their name plates were on their doors and they just happened to be sitting at their desks at the same time, so now I know which one is which. Today, I also got to meet alot of the names that I've been emailing over the last few weeks, scheduling meetings and what not. That was nice, exept for one of them that introduced himself to me then proceded to chew my ass about scheduling a meeting when he told me he couldn't be there. Nice welcome huh? Other than my boss and a few ladies that I work with all of the time, one of the first people I met was the mail lady. She's very nice, however I suspect that she's a bit of a pot head. Well, it's either that or she actually thinks that patchoulli oil smells good because everyday the mail reeks of the special grass. The other person that I see everyday is the Janitor. He looks a little bit like Morgan Freeman, only in sweat pants. I'm having a total Seinfeldian dilema with him. When I first started, I didn't make a point to remember his name, actually, I don't even know if I asked him. So, without knowing his name I've been very polite, as always. Each day when he comes to our department and empties the garbage I thank him, wish him a nice evening or weekend whichever the case may be. But it's been 5 weeks! There must be a statute of limitations on asking a person's name - like the 5th time you told them Thank You or said Hi. (???) The thing about the Janitor that has been slightly annoying me though is that he seems to be monitoring my schedule and asking a lot of questions. On my screensaver, I have a bunch of pictures of my dogs, the cat, some of N and I and of course my step daughter. Everyone who has come into my office says "Oh what a nice picture of you and your husband," or "Your daughter is so pretty," or some comment on my silly animals... When people ask about kids, the first token question is how old, so when I say "My step daughter is 7" the auto-response is "Oh, does she live with you?" then my auto response, is "No, she lives with her mom, but we see her all the time" then "Oh, where does she live?" etc... So, I don't really mind chatting about the general elements of my little family and most people just end up saying "Oh, that's nice," but the Janitor has taken the nosyness to a whole new level, and not just with the family. He asks every other day if we're going to OR to visit family, or if I leave early to do departmental shopping you can bet on him asking my where I was, or even if I leave at my regular time and HE gets there late to do the trash he says something about me not being around. I don't get this. Are janitors worse than secretaries when it comes to gossip and the latest scoop with what everyone is doing? It sure seems like it. And of course, this leads me to other questions like - Is he taking mental notes of the types of items I throw away? Does he curse my name when he sweeps my office and finds a cheerio under the computer desk? Is this some sort of under-cover janitor sting operation to keep track of employee hours? I suppose you could tell alot about a person by what they throw away. Trash anonymity is what I would prefer, and I may not know his name, but I'm definitely going to be a little more tight-lipped yet polite as ever.

Fat Husband

I saw this while driving out of the grocery store parking lot today. It caught my eye, not only because it was on the back of a stop sign but because from a distance all you can read is "Fat Husband." I thought - that's hilarious, wtf kind of marketing is this? and would anyone really call that number?

Then I got closer and saw what it really said. So, I guess the point they're trying to make is if you think you're husband's going to leave you because you're fat - call this number?? or if your husband already left - call this number?? This struck me as odd, especially after my post yesterday about motivation...

It had to be a man that created this sign.

What rain does to the desert

What rain does to the desert, originally uploaded by Ambuh.

This is about a week after getting some rain.

Reason to Exercise

I'm really proud of myself in regards to exercising lately. I know to some people it's no big deal and you just do it, but I'm lazy and I procrastinate so this is kind of a big thing for me. Every year I resolve to work out, to firm up and lose those few lbs I gained over the winter...and this year is no different. I can visualize that sexy bikini body in my mind, however materializing it is much more difficult. I've discovered lately that it's all about how I motivate myself. One thing I tried was giving myself a deadline. Lose X inches or lbs by X date. That never worked. It was too much pressure, to restrictive, and when I step on the scale all bloated from PMS one day and that little bastard of a scale says I gained 3 lbs overnight I would just about cry! So that motivation has been chucked. Another thing I tried was to take the dogs with me on a run. My thought being - The doggies need exercise too, how could I possibly go on a run withouth them. It just wouldn't be fair, right? Well, at first that failed miserably. I'd start out good. Fisher is on my left, the houses side of the sidewalk because he doesn't wander, or run ahead, or try to pee on people's yards, and also isn't smart enough not to dart into the street. Buxley is in my right, the street side because there is much less to sniff on the streetside and also because my right arm is stronger and Buxley pulls the leash, no matter how much lead I give him. So a block or two into the runs with the doggies and I start to get winded, not just from the running but from yanking on Buxley's leash and yelling "HEAL!!", or avoiding tripping over Fisher who, it seems, would prefer to take his walk in between my feet rather than by my side. About half way I'd be so sick of trying to run with them I'd just walk. I let go of the idea of multi-tasking the dog walking with my exercise. Since I've been running consistently for about a month now I decided to try running with the dogs again. There are 3 key factors for the success of this: 1. Actually starting to get in shape and being able to yank/tug/yell at the dogs while running and not feeling like I'm going to puke or passout 2. Keeping the leashes short. and 3. Stopping occaisionally and making them sit, so they are reminded who's walking who. Now, they get to come with my if I'm feeling patient and really want a good workout. Another reason I thought would give me great motivation is to get in shape for pregnancy. Within the next year or so (maybe sooner, maybe later, who knows, sometime before I'm 30-ish...Can you tell I'm good at avoiding that question??LOL) So, I'm thinking - Yeah that's a great motivation. From what I hear, not just being pregnant, but getting pregnant and delivery are much easier if you're in good shape. I dream of being one of those women that everyone hates, who is 8 months pregnant and looks like a barbie doll that swallowed a basketball. I would love to have a pregnancy like one of my dear friends who works out on a regular basis and had a 30 minute labor with nothing but a jolly rancher to ease the pain. Now, getting back to reality, all I can do is hope for the best whenever that time comes. While this workout motivation is valid, it's just not the right motivation. I need a reason to work out for ME that will last, not just to acheive a goal to be ready for a stage of my life. So, this time around I just started running. I decided that it was manageable to run 3 times a week (Tuesday, Thursday and either Saturday or Sunday). Surely two nights during the work week I can make something in the crock pot, or plan something that's quick to fix up so we don't have to wait until 8:00 for dinner to be ready because of my run. And, I've been able to do just that. Each time I go, and it's windy or its hot or cold or raining or whatever I might be inclined to bitch or give a reason why I should skip a day, I think "I'm running because that's what I do. I run." Not because I want to make sure my size 6 jeans fit me forever, not because I feel guilty about having a chocolate bar earlier in the day, not because I want to look hot for my husband, not because I noticed a little extra jiggle on the booty, not because I think I'm ever going to look like I did in college, not because I have to, but just because I do. (Not that some of those reason's aren't great side effects, for me, its just not mentally healthy to focus on them as THE reason) It's interesting how a slight change in my outlook affects my attitude and stick-to-it-ivness. Wanting to do something makes it so much more enjoyable than bombarding myself with reasons why I need to/have to/should do something. I'm just doing it because that's what I want to do.

Living on the Fringe

To the lady in the grocery store standing behind me in the "10 Item Only" express lane: Look bitch, why don't you stop glaring at me. I only have 9 items: 2 packages of chicken, 2 bottles of wine, a baguette, 2 packages of strawberries, one box of blueberries and a dark chocolate dove bar. If I were you, I'd be way more concerned about your sniffing sneezing toddler who is wandering around in white socks that have turned black(!), obviously because she's been wearing ONLY socks in the parking lot, grocery store and who knows where else than how many items are in my shopping basket. Also, on a personal note - get dressed before you come out in public. Wearing pajamas and slippers in public is reserved for teenage girls on a midnight slumberparty whipped cream and soda run or hung over college kids on Sunday morning buying orange juice. *Deep Breath* It's Friday night. Anyone feeling chatty later??

Alphabet Update

I'm stealing Maricar's idea. A is for me, Amber. Someone who will be 26 this year and is kinda looking forward to it. As I'm getting older and more comfortable and confident in my own skin I really like me. For real, not in a Stuart Smalley way. B is for "Birdie." A few weeks ago we got Macy kitty a new toy. It's a stick with a string and feathers attached to it. (think fishing for kitties with feathers) Macy loves it! She goes crazy when we take it out, jumping, meowing, grunting... After we play with her for a while, her royal fatness or as N likes to call her "Felineus Obesitivus" is so out of breath that she purrs with her mouth open making the cutest little purr-grunts. heh. C must be for chocolate. I think it is more addictive than cigarettes. I think, for me, its an all or nothing kind of relationship. If I start the week out and have a piece of chocolate on Monday, then next day it seems like I want it more!! and MORE!! I'm gonna have to go cold turkey, because I can't do moderation. And my ass needs a little moderation. D is for dry-shaving my legs. I did it the other day. I got out of the shower, dried off and just before I put my lotion on I realized that my legs were hairy like king kong and I was planning to wear a skirt that day. Some people are probably wincing just reading this, but I tell you - it was the best shave I've had in a long long time! My legs were so smooth afterwards. Maybe it was just a leg-shaving anomoly. E is for "Excellence" and "Teamwork" and "Strength" and "Integrity" and "Success" and any other annoying buzzword you can turn into a poster by using a picture of a water droplet below any of the above corporate catch phrases. True motivational posters should have words like "Bonus" and "Raise" and "CompTime" and "PayCheck" and "Annual Review" F is for the full moon this weekend. I have always felt like the full moon affects me in a weird but good sort of way. I always have a giddy kind of excited feeling on the days leading up to and on a full moon. Does this mean Amber will go crazy this weekend and run nekkid through the sagebrush? Maybe. Well, at least through the house a few times. G is for the growout that's happening on my hair. I haven't highlighted it for many many months, and the darker grow out is down at ear level. I've been considering either re-highlighting or chopping it off to a bob. I've grown attached to this long hair look, so maybe I'll highlight this weekend. H is for highwaters. A few weeks ago I was talking to a few of my friends about how all of my pants seem to be way shorter than they ever were. I tried on at least 6 pairs of pants one morning and they were all 2-3 inches too short. We figured there were 4 possible reasons for this:

1. I grew, therefore my ankles are sticking out because my legs are longer now.
2. My sense of long/short has changed. Pants are longer this year than they were last year.
3. I dried them too hot in the dryer, thus shrinking the pants.
4. My ass grew, therefore lifting the pants up exposing my ankles.

If figure the right answer is a combination of #'s 2-4.....

I as in IRL. Since I started my new job I actually made an IRL friend! It seems odd at first, actually hanging out and talking with someone that's around my same age and has simmilar interests. I've worked with middleage women so long, this is a totally foreign concept.

J is for jogging. I'm so proud of myself - The last 2 weeks I've been sticking to my jogging schedule and it feels great!!

K is for kisses, kitty kisses to be exact. The kind that involve, sandpaper tounge on my eyelids, whiskers up my nose and cat breat on my face. Please let my cat find a different way to wake me up!

L is for loved, as in I am thankful to be so loved. My husband is so sweet and he makes my day, each day by doing or saying something sweet either unknowingly by just being himself or on purpose. I love you sweetheart and I am so thankful for all of the laughter and love in our home.

M is for mask, Av*on's Pore-Fection clay mask is the best make-your-skin-softer-than-a-baby's-butt face mask. I've used it twice this month and can really tell a difference in my skin. N is for nasty bloody smelly disgusting fucking hippies. Thank god I live in Nevada where the hippies only come out in great numbers once a year for burning man, then go back from whence they came. I think I've had my fill of these patchouli types lately. O is for Only, my favorite new song. You're killing me with the sexy funk baby!! "Yes I did!" P is for pig ears. Gross, I know, but my dogs LOVE them. I buy the economy size bags of them at Co*stco. However, I've recently found out that the cat also likes them. I neglected to zip the bag shut after giving the doggies their morning crunchy pig ear treat the other day and came home to find pig ears strewn about the house. I caught Macy with one - she could barely hold it in her mouth. In order to get it in her mouth, she had to put it so far back her little lips were stretched out on the sides, her whiskers and nose were scrunched up and her front teeth were showing.

Q is for the 2 quarts of cold water I threw on N after I got out of the shower this morning. In reverse chronological order, here are the events leading up to cold water throwing: -He stuffed a soapy pouf in my mouth while I was rinsing my conditioner out -I repeatedly splashed him in the face while his hands were soapy from washing his hair -He called me a prick -I called him a cock -He accused me of being a clucky hen -I butted into the shower while he was in the middle of rinsing off -He spit a mouthful of water in my face -I must have been asking for it R is for the revenge that I know is coming to me (see "Q"). S is for the sunshine today. It's supposed to be up to 75! I can't wait until the summer - Drinking iced tea (or vodka cran, depending on the time), lounging on the back patio, reading a magazine.

T is for the thong I found in the zipper section of my little pink tweed purse the other day. I wore a thong under a velvet skirt when we went out a few weekends ago, and halfway through the night I just coudn't stand it anymore, so I de-thonged. Good thing I didn't discover it at the bank counter while looking for a pen. "Whoops!! Um... yeah, that's not a pen."

U is for undercover. Sometimes working where I work, I feel like I'm an undercover spy, snooping around in the land of extreme liberalism.

V is for vacation. We're going on vacation next weekend to Coachella. It's so going to rock and kick ass. I'm terribly excited.

W is for the watercooler guy. My office got a watercooler this week and the day it was delivered the watercooler guy called from his truck and was confused about how to get to the office, so I told him I'd just go outside and then bring him back. He was parked outside, so I showed him where the loading zone/service entrance was. He carried in the cooler, then asked for my signature on the paperwork. He didn't have a pen, so I gave him one of my cheapo bic pens. He said, "Wow, you're so nice..." in a googley eyed sort of way. Thanks, my husband thinks so too. Thanks for the little ego boost anyways, watercooler guy. X is for my girl Becky, who is super eXcited about her sweety Xavier coming home!!

Y is for Yo Momma, and my momma, and all of my girlfriends who seem to have mothers that are simmilar. I'm thankful that I'm not the only one that was raised in a mad house and that I have you all to vent/comiserate with and also recieve suport/encouragement from :).

Z is for Z End. Time to go home and have a drink!

Cheezy Chicken Enchilada Casserole

I've been meaning to post this recipie since I talked to Maricar about it a while ago. It's so yummy, and if you're not a chicken eater you can just leave out the chicken (or substitute tofu), use cream of mushroom in stead of cream of chicken and use water instead of broth. Ingredients: 3-4 chicken breasts chicken broth or bullion cubes to make broth 2 packages of yellow corn tortillas 4 cups shredded Cheddar cheese 4 cups shredded Jack cheese Onion 1 large can of diced green chilis 2 cans cream of chicken soup 1 tsp oregano, sage or thyme ( I usually just shake a bit of each in) 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper salt & pepper 4 chicken breasts - boil in a few cups of chicken broth until cooked and tender (or just use leftover pieces of chicken or turkey) When chicken is done cooking, cut into chunks Mix together: 2 cans cream of chicken soup 1/2 cup of broth (from cooking the chicken) 1 tsp oregano, sage and/or thyme ( I usually just shake a bit of each in) 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper salt & pepper Chop up half a big onion Open the can of chillis Shred the cheese, or just get the bagged cheese (don't get the super cheap cheese because it gets oily when you cook it) In a large bowl (like corning ware caserole dish) or in two round 2 quart baking caserole dishes layer the following: divide (mentally) your ingredients into 4 portions and layer as follows: Usually 2 layers per dish. Tortillas (ripped into bite size pieces) Cheese onion chillis chicken soup mixture Bake at 350 for 1 hour I got this recipie from a friend and it is one of our favorites :) You can make it milder or spicier by adjusting the amout of cayenne pepper you put in.

Follow up to the Perfect Diet

Yes, there was still blood on the watercooler when I arrived at the aforementioned event. No, I didn't eat or touch anything other than the deli meat, cause you all know nasty bloody hippies don't eat meat.

The Perfect Diet

I went shopping today with a gal...the details are irrelevant, but here's the story. She and I were to go shopping and purchase food/drink for a event tomorrow. I meet her at her office, we walk about a mile to where she's parked, listening to her go on about how she normally rides her bike to work or walks. Ok. blah blah blah. We get in the car and I'm shocked at how disgusting it is. Nasty grime all over everything, the remenants of granola encrusted to the carpet, some unidentifiable red mark on the seat. I may have some empty water bottles, a jacket, gloves, dog leashes or a Twix wrapper in my car from time to time, but that's just clutter, not filth. Our first stop was to pickup a water cooler. This was by far the best part of the day because I saw a really hot guy there ;). I had to take my purse and coat with me everywhere because this gal doesn't believe in locking her car... wtf?? Anyways, we loaded the cooler in her car, drove down to the place where the event is happening to unload it. I went to get one of the building people to unlock the door for us, and when we got back this chick opened the hatch of her car and a plate fell out. She picked up the pieces and in doing so, unknowingly cut her finger. If you're eating, stop reading. I am giving her the benefit of the doubt here by saying that she didn't realize her finger was bleeding because she moved the water cooler around and got blood all over the place. I went to help her move it and blood got on my hand. I seriously just about puked. Seriously. I finished helping her move it. The person who unlocked the door offered to go get a bandaid, but she didn't want a bandaid. The reason being of course, there is plastic in bandaids, and plastic is the devil. Screw sanitation, right? As soon as we were done I ran to the bathroom, washed my hands 4 times with tons of soap and the water as hot as possible. I still feel sick to my stomach. Next we went grocery shopping. All of the food she touched was with this unwashed blood stained hand. I had lost my appetite completely by that time, and was pretty much on the verge of puking with every item she put in the shopping cart. When we finished we went back to her house to put the stuff in her fridge. I walk in and the place is a disaster, crap all over. She says her roomates are slobs, but quite frankly I don't know how anyone could live like that if they weren't okay with it. She opens the fridge and the most foul smell comes out. Its like a moldy tofu, sour organic milk smell. Sick!! While we're unloading the car, her dog jumps in the front seat where my purse and coat happen to be sitting. I go over to get the dog out, "Here doggie, doggie.." The dog growls, snaps and shows his teeth to me!! I ran in the house, totally freaked out. I just say, "Um, the dog is in the car..." She says, "Oh, yeah. He tends to get really agressive in the car. I seriously think he'd bite someone he gets so freaked out." Nice. This information could have been very usefull to me FIVE MINUTES AGO!!! So, I bite my tounge, she puts the dog away, drives me back to my car and drops me off. I feel totally traumatized. I think I'll go home and disinfect my entire body down with clorox clean up wipes, and then have a nice stiff drink. I don't think I'll eat the rest of the weekend. The thing about this is, for someone who is so environmentally conscious, I can't believe the blatant disregard for all personal and public hygiene and the disgusting environment she lives in. If you want to save the environment, I suggest starting with your personal environment, then take it up a notch. Who cares if the you recycle your cardboard if there is salmonilla all over your kitchen!

Beep Beep Beep

So, I've been a good girl this week. I ran a mile on Sunday, then another mile yesterday. My weekly plan is to run once on the weekend, and then on Tues/Thurs and do squats and arm toning exercise with my 3 lb. weights at least twice a week. I was running yesterday wearing shorts and as I was running, I couldn't help but notice the amount of jiggling that was happening. Before I digress, let's back up a few years... I used to run all the time when I was in college. I was also a lifeguard and worked out 3 times a week with my dad. I did yoga once a week and almost every morning. I was in awesome shape. Really. I could do the splits, 50 pushups (real ones) at the drop of a hat or run a mile and barely break a sweat. Somehow, even though it has been almost 6 years ago I still see myself as that fit/active person. I haven't really gained weight (well maybe a pound or two), but my composition has definitely changed. The lean teenage muscle I once had has been replaced with the happily married smooshy/jigglyness I now posess. So, back to my run. I started off up the street and around the corner where there are a bunch of gradeschool, maybe Jr. High school boys riding their bikes and skateboards. I feel self conscious as I jog by, staring straight ahead. I still can't shake those insecure 14 year old girl tendancies out of me. I keep running, thinking..."Well, at least they had a good laugh today." I make another turn down a hill and as I'm running down the hill I notice my butt is juggling, way more than it has ever jiggled before. I even reach back, thinking something or someone might be hanging on to my shorts. I thought, "I don't have a fanny pack on do I? How can there be so much movement? What the hell is going on back there!!" But alas, it was my ass. As I run down the hill with my hands each on their own cheek, trying to determine the amount of jiggling that is actually happening, I realized that the luxury of being young and eating everything I want to eat is now, literally, behind me. And the only way to stop the jiggling is to run it off and stop feeding it chocolate (well at least reduce the chocolate intake). People say, "Oh, you're looking so good! Where do you put it?" I lie and say "Oh...Thanks," but I know where it went...

Dogs & Sagebrush

Went on a walk with the doggies just now. Here are some camerphone pics: Die Sagebrush Die! Fisher is my little enviromental dog, picking up trash with his mouth for the greater good. The coveted stick. It's special, not like the million other sticks in the desert.

Pick a Name

To all women who hyphenate their names: Hypenating your last name is no longer a symbol of maintaining your identity, a feminist jab or even sort of "cool" anymore. It is annoying and pretentious, at best. If you insist on calling yourself "Mrs. Sally Smith-Walters-Kline" eventually people will just stop talking and corresponding with you because it takes so much freaking time to say and/or type out your name. Feeling sentimental about giving up your maiden name? Ok. Keep it as a second middle name, but don't make everyone call you by it. If you don't want to take your husband's name period, fine, keep yours. Just don't add it on as a half-ass token of tradition and make people say 15 syllables whenever they speak to you. And if you re-marry, make a decision. It's either one or the other. I doubt husband #1 wants his name tied to husband #2. In closing, please just get the fuck over yourselves.

Drunken Amber

This is almost 2 months overdue... Remember this post? Yeah - the drunken Betty pictures I promised. They're here, and a really serious mid-battle face here. (If you're not on flickr, just add me (Ambuh) as a friend so you can see them. If I know you, I'll friend ya back!)

Meme

1. On what day of the week were you born? Monday - Labor Day actually. 2. Were you born in the morning, afternoon, or evening? 5:55 AM 3. How many siblings do you have? Brothers or sisters? One real brother 2 step brothers 5 step sisters (I'm the oldest of all) 4. Do you (or did you) ever wish you were an only child? And if you ARE an only child, did you ever wish you had brothers and sisters? I'm glad that I only grew up with my brother. I didn't get the step brothers and sisters until I was 16 or so. I don't think I would want to be an only child though. 5. Did you (or do you) dream of having a big family of your own? No. I have 1 step daughter, and want one, maybe 2 more kids. 6. In your opinion, which is (or would be) easier to raise; boys or girls? Well, I'm kind of biased because all I have is a step daughter, who has been for the most part a very easy child. I'm pretty good at being a mom to a girl, but have no idea about little boys. 7. In looks, do you favor your mother or your father? I think I got the best from my mom and dad. I don't look *alot* like either of them. I do have my mom's eyes though.

Interesting Searches

There have been some seriously weird searches leading people to my site lately... The last one is my favorite... I hope you people find what you're looking for, although no promises about the huge hairy man butts... fashion 80's men jean jacket natural extermination skinny ass neon thong leotard huge hairy men butt

Drive By

Out of the Mouths of Moms

At the wedding last weekend, C was wearing a new skirt. A skirt that we just purchased at Macy*s the day before. Very cute, striped with a silky double layer underneath that peeked out of the bottom. I don't know exactly what she did, but during the ceremony we discovered that the silky layer on her skirt had completely ripped apart at the seams. It was just around the edge, and when she stood up the top layer covered it, but C was just petrified. She's always been very particular about how she dresses, so this was a devastating turn of events for her. I told her that we'd fix it on our way to the reception. After thinking about it, I decided that the best thing to do was just to go to a store, buy some scissors and cut off the offending material. The outer layer of her skirt hit her knees and the under layer would still be there, just a bit shorter and hidden. We pulled into the shopping complex. There was a 2 lane entrance; I was driving on my side. Just as I was about to turn into the parking lot this hillbilly redneck in his "rig" (nasty old beat up truck) pulled into the opposite side of the entrace really fast. He was driving in our lane headed right for us. He swerved away at the last minute, and I slammed on the brakes, honked my horn and yelled, "Fuck you Dude!!" ... Oh god... Did I really just say what I think I said?? ... I looked over at C, totally flabergasted and appalled at my knee jerk reaction of swearing and honking at bad drivers, thinking to myself...Shit! What were you thinking Amber??? Before I could even muster a word out, C started giggling and smirked at me. She knew what I was thinking. She giggled again and said, "Don't worry Amber, my mom says that too when people are driving bad." Well, at least we're consistent right?

Bummer Dude

To the person who found my site searching for this. You will be sadly dissapointed. You sick FREAK!!

My Mother was Never My Best Friend

This weekend C and I were driving around, shopping and doing wedding stuff which left a lot of time in the car for us to talk. C was telling me about her latest school projects and what they were studying in the 2nd grade. She told me that her teacher gave the class an assignment to keep a journal. I'm guessing nothing private, just something to do to practice writing every day. I asked C if she keeps a diary of her own. She said no, because she doesn't want anyone to read it, like her sister (once she can read) or a friend from school. She said that she would be too afraid that someone would use it against her to make fun of her. My first reaction is. "Awwww Honey, I understand," but when I think about it, that is pretty good thinking for a 7 year old. She told me that one of her friends showed her diary to her and that she wrote about all kinds of boys she liked and that she thought one of them was "sexy." C asked me if I ever had a diary. I told her I did, but that I eventually threw it away because I wrote things in it that I never told my mom about and she read my diary and I got in trouble. C, of course, asked me what I wrote about. I told her I wrote about boys I thought were cute, people I didn't like, how I didn't like going to church. I didn't elaborate any further to C about this but I will for you guys. In the 5th grade, my best friend and I had a journal completely devoted to a boy named Joel. It was 1987, I was in the 5th grade and George Michael's hit I Want your Sex was on the radio in full force. I wasn't "allowed" to listen to that kind of music, so of course, I listened to it on the radio at my friend's house. All we wrote in the journal was "I want Joel's sex." We had no idea what that meant of course, but we knew that was something racy and adult to say. Better yet - it was forbidden, and that made it all the more fantastic. **Note to self: Definitely doing the right thing by not sheltering C. I'd rather have her ask us about things than feel they're forbidden and therefore extremely appealing. And she does. Anyways, back to my conversation with C. C asked why my mom was mad about what I wrote. I told her that my mom thought the stuff I was writing about was inappropriate. I told C that my mom never really explained things to me and that I didn't really feel comfortable taking to her about how I was feeling or my friends at school. I think C thought this was kind of odd because she tells me all kinds of things about her friends, school, how she feels about things (and I'm just guessing she talks to her mom too). C asks me all sorts of questions like "What is a Lesbian?" and "Why do people go to church?" You know, the fun questions (I'll have to post the lesbian story one of these days...lol). And I always give her a honest answer with as much detail as I feel is appropriate. The underlying reasons for my lack of trust in my own mother were well founded. She'd tell everyone, my aunts, grandma's, friends etc. about everything that was happening in my life, even private things like the first time a boy called me or starting my period. So, I basically started hiding anything from my mom that I didn't want spread all over town. It's sad, but I do the same thing today because of recent incidents. Anyways, my mom never offered any kind of real explanations to me other than "God says...." or "It's a sin...." or she would never broach the subject at all. Maybe because she was uncomfortable talking about it? Regardless, my child deserves better than that. So, I told C that I hope she always comes to ask me or her mom any questions in her mind that she might think are inappropriate or wierd or "bad" and that I'll always keep her secrets and will talk to her about anything she wants to talk about. She smiled really big and grabbed my hand and gave me a squeeze. We talked some more about some of her friends and she asked me if I thought she might end up marrying someone that goes to her school. I laughed and said, "why do you ask that honey?"... and she said, "Well, there's this boy in the 4th grade I really like..." and went on to tell me about how she thinks he's cute and sometimes he chases her on the playground. My response to her was, "Probably not honey. Friends and boys you think are cute will come in and out of your life. One minute you're best friend will be one person, the next year it will be someone else. Things change as you get older and you just never know who might come into your life." She gave that a little thought and said "Are you sure?" "Yes honey, I'm sure. The thing about your life is that it will always change, but while you're a little girl the one thing that won't change is that you have your moms here to be your best friend, to ask questions and to tell your secrets to." Of course, I knew that her intent in asking "are you sure" was not exactly philosophical in nature so I said, "And you never know about those boys. You might still know them when you're older, and they might still even be cute!" *Big grin on C's face* "Yeah, Amber, you're right. You never know about those boys." I hope C looks back on how I treated her as a kid and is glad I was her step mom. I try to be the mom to her that my mom never was to me - someone you wanted to tell your secrets to because you trusted them and they accepted you no matter what.

Advice for the Bride

When you get married everyone always has some wonderful tid-bit of information to share with you, some wisdom that they feel needs to be imparted to you. My step sister had a little book out from her bridal showers that was just a blank book for people to write their "Advice for the Bride" in. I didn't get any good advice before getting married. It was mostly just "Stop living in sin, and get married already." After hanging out with all of my SS's friends who are either engaged or still in college, I started to feel something I've never really felt before - Like I was now the older, wiser, experienced one that might have something important to say. After all, we'll be married 5 years this summer, and for all intents and purposes I am a mommy. So I thought about it for a while, and decided that my best marital advice to my step sister is this: "On your honeymoon, make sure you go pee everytime you guys do it. You must pee within 15 minutes and you must pee every time you do it. If you don't, "Honeymooner's Disease" aka a UTI or bladder infection from hell will result"

Long Drive Home

I left Oregon at about noon. Had a nice breakfast of waffles with peanut butter any syrup (I love peanut butter on anything breakfast; toast, waffles, pancakes..mmmm), dropped C off to her mom and headed out of town. It rained. And Rained. AND RAINED! I'm not talking about a drizzle or a light rain. It was seriously stormy and grey and the rain was coming down like chickens and goats. I stopped at the Olive Pit again, and this time I seriously stocked up on the olives. The rain didn't let up until I got to Redding, and didn't start up again until I started heading east. I went through Yuba City and there was the most beautiful rainbow I'd ever seen. It was a double, and so bright I pulled over at a gas station to stare at it. I was so close to it I could barely snap a few pictures with my crappy cameraphone (since the battery was out in my good camera)

As soon as I got to Grass Valley things started to turn for the worse...I drove in a foot and a half of snow for about 45 miles. It took almost 3 hours. I hate driving in the snow. I've always been so leary of it, well, ever since the "circus" incident. (The circus incident happened almost 6 years ago. I was driving our little Honda Civic through the mountain pass, in snow, too fast, hit the brakes and did a 540 degree spin in the middle of the highway. I hadn't driven in the snow on the highway again, until last night. ) There was a point when I was seriously considering turning around or trying to find a hotel, but I decided that I just had to get over it and DO IT! I drove slowly. I didn't use my brakes. I was just fine. The dogs could tell that I was nervous though... They were standing up panting at me the whole time. The thought was nice, but the hot dog breath fogging up the windows wasn't exactly the comforting I needed. By the time I got to Donner Pass I was feeling like a pro. Jesus Christ! I do have a Subaru after all. I stopped at a gas station to get the ice out of the wind shield wipers. I got some jerky, water and the last Twix (I couldn't help it - It was calling to me!) So, I really feel like a local now. Driving down the other side of the mountain was no problem, and by the time I got to town I could hear the hallelujah chorus playing in the back ground.

Home Sweet Home

Say WHAT?

Just in case you forget who is who here is a post about my family, and here are some things that they said this weekend: "My sister's old room mate is here and she's wearing the exact same earrings as you are. I already told her that you're wearing the same ones too." SS #1 to me upon entering the room at the wedding reception. "It really wouldn't be honest if you told Nordstrom you'd take the intern job then turn around a week later and accept a better intern ship at Macy's." My mother, giving advice to one of the bridesmades on taking internships. Jesus mom, who's side are you on? She's gotta look out for herself!!

"Where's N?"

Just about everyone at the wedding, to me. My response: "He's on the east coast for a business conference" The real answer: "What kind of wife do you think I am, that I would subject my dear husband to all of you people without any beer or likker in sight??" "Duh! Stop freaking out." A different bridesmaid, responding to the bride after she asked her if she brought a change of clothes for the rehersal dinner. "Hell No!" My brother to C, after she asked him if he was going to go try and catch the garter. "Uncle J doesn't like weddings does he?" C to me, after above statement from my brother. "Don't be suprised if your cousin is the next one to get married." My aunt (mom's sister) to me regarding her 18 year old son and his current girlfriend. 8^O Is she completely insane? "And then there's physical touch...Women like physical touch. Men like physical touch - A LOT!" The pastor (my step dad a.k.a. the bride's father) talking about the 5 Languages of Love, during the wedding ceremony. "Ugh. No wine? No champagne? Nobody even spiked the punch?" Me, to myself, after realizing I'd be stuck with all of these people at the reception without a single drink.

April Fools

After my long drive Thursday night, I woke up at 5:00 AM and felt a bug under my earlobe. You guys know how Maricar is freaked about snakes? Well, that's just about what any kind of bug does to me. Bugs by the ears have been especially frightening for me ever since I saw The Wrath of Kahn as a kid. I sat straight up in bed after I slapped myself in the face/ear region half a dozen times to fling the bug, or whatever it was off of my ear. I almost screamed, but I couldn't. I was almost paralyzed. I jumped out of bed and shook out all of the covers, looking for the culprit. I found nothing. My brother's alarm clock went off shortly there after, and I couldn't get back to sleep. Nevermind that I'd only had 4 1/2 hours rest. I was wide awake and standing in the bedroom, staring at the bed. Then I remembered that it was April Fools and I knew my brother would be getting up soon, so I tried to think of something good. "OMG, I ran over one of the dogs when I got in last night..." Nah. To mean and sad. I'd start crying if someone April fooled me with that one. "They canceled the wedding..." Nah. My brother wouldn't care. He'd probably be happy. He was an usher, but I'm sure he'd rather be fishing. I finally decided on "It snowed 8 inches on the ground last night!!" Yep. That's the one. That one is infamous in our family. When my brother and I were 6 & 8 years old, mom woke us up a half our early on April 1st and got us out of bed saying, "Oh my gosh you guys! There is so much snow on the ground. Get up!" My brother and I jump out of our beds and rush the the living room window where we see a nice sunny day... We were so mad, we both started crying. I bet my mom felt so bad, lol. Maybe not. My brother totally fell for it. heh. I told him about the bugs and he said it was probably spiders, and he showed me 4 spider bites he had on his stomach (!!!!!). He left for work, and I had calmed down enough to get back into bed. I shook all the blankets again and tucked myself in so only my eyes and the top of my head were out. That didn't last long though because I felt another bug in my hair! This time I screamed and jumped out of the bed, grabbed my brush and started furiously brushing hoping to knock out the awful hideous bug that was in my hair. I saw it fall out and it was a little grey beetle looking thing, not a spider (thank god!). None the less, I ran down stairs and laid on the couch for another hour or so until my dad was up. I hate bugs. N called a little later and told me that his flight to RI was canceled and that he was just going to stay home since he couldn't get a flight that day to visit his buddy. I totally fell for it. Even after my planning and plotting against my brother that morning...lol. I'm so gullible. I picked up C on my way into town that morning. The rest of the day was spent at my mom's house, doing the practice hairdo on my sister, then shopping, then the rehersal dinner, then toenail/nail painting with the girls after. We had a fantastic girlie time :)

Which John Hughes Character Are You?

I've been reading blogs all morning and couldn't resist this test I found on Andrea's Blog.

You are Clark Griswold (from National Lampoon's Vacation)! You're full of optimism and boundless energy, and no one loves a good family trip more. No one else can swear a blue streak like you either, Sparky! Which John Hughes Character Are You? brought to you by

My Sister's Wedding

I'm leaving tonight after work. I'll be taking an 8 hour drive with my doggies to the land of trees and no wireless internet access (i.e. Southern Oregon). The reason for my visit is my step-sister's wedding, and while I'm there C gets to hang out with me too (that's the best part). I have a lot of step-siblings, none of which I actually grew up with (thank god!) SS #1 - Is 25, a whore, the most superficial person I know, and a single mom. She tried to entrap her 18 year old boyfriend by getting PG on purpose. He has never even seen the baby. Oy. I have to give her kudos though, she's BF baby past 1 year, so she must have some kind of good sense. SS #2 - is 23, recovering clepto, a little serious, but very sweet none the less, and is the one getting married this Saturday SS #3 - is 19, and THE sweetest person. She has a great sense of humor, but is really selfconscious because her sisters and MOTHER always tell her she's fat. She's not actually, she's a size 8 and has gigantic boobs. SS#4 - is 14, maybe 15. I've only met her once, and she threw a fit because she thought that my mom & step dad spent more on the other kids for Christmas than they did on her. SS#5 - is 9, maybe 10. I've also only met her once or twice. She was 6 or so then and was really sweet and played with C while we were over. SB #1 - is 21 and in the Air Force. I think he's stationed in South Dakota. He used to be a major spoiled brat, but the few times I've seen him since he's been in the military he's really grown up. SB #2 - is my step brother from my step mom, all others above are from my step dad. He's 15, lives with his dad in AZ. I haven't seen him too much in the past few years. He plays baseball. And - I have 1 real brother. He just turned 24, is living with my dad, trying to avoid getting pressured into marrying his girlfriend of 3 years (who is really sweet). My brother is your typical Oregonian...hunting, fishing, camping etc. He's a hard worker, pretty quiet and doesn't trust women in the slightest. So, that's Amber's sibling re-cap. Now I wonder what they'd say about me. Maybe something like: Amber - is 25, married, has a step daughter but no kids yet. She spoils her animals rotten, favors her dad over her mom, is definitely the black sheep of the family (i.e. drinks, used to smoke, doesn't go to church, goes to NIN concerts, moved away, lived in sin, swears, lets her SD watch all kinds of inappropriate television like Austin Powers Goldmember.....no, Fook Yu!....I could go on.), has a nice house, new cars, spoiled?.... I don't know. I hope that they would also say that I'm pretty nice and fun and caring too... Who knows though. I am kind of a bitch sometimes. --------------------------- Anyways, moving on to my weekend plans. C and I are going shopping tomorrow morning for a dress and maybe some shoes, jewelry and hair goodies. We're going to my grandparents house for lunch after that. My step sister is going to Portland tonight for a bachelorette party and won't be back until noon tomorrow, so we'll head over to my moms house then.....my mothers words on the subject, "I just can't believe she'd do that so close to the wedding...What are they going to be doing anyways? Oh well, I have no control over it." Translation: I highly disapprove of this and think it is very irresponsible. What kind of a christian girl has a bachelorette party anyways? If I could tell them they're not allowed to go, I would. God, I'm uptight. So after mom informed me of my SS's plans I just said "Oh! Cool"...lol. Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to do my step sister's hair, the practice wedding hair do, then we're all going to the rehearsal/dinner. Saturday morning all of the girls are going to go over to my brother's girlfriend's house to get ready. I think I'll have to surprise them with Mimosas and muffins for breakfast. heh. Then the wedding is at 2:00 at a church, with reception to follow. I'm sure the wedding will be really pretty and all that. I always cry at weddings. The reception should be stiff and semi-boring. Last time my SS and I talked she was still debating about having wine and champagne at the wedding because so much of the family is very religious and totally against drinking of any kind. I hope she gets some alkihall anyways. I wasn't even 21 at our wedding and we had beer and wine. In fact you could almost do one of those mastercard commercials about our wedding: Wedding Reception Room: $350.00 Entire family driving to the wedding: $650.00 Booking a DJ with a Kereokee machine: $400.00 5 coolers full of assorted beer: $150.00 The look on grandma's face when she sees all of her under-age grandchildren drunk and singing "Whoop-There it is!" on the kereokee machine: Priceless So, a little more about my step sister getting married. She met her fiance in September of 2004. Yes, do the math... They had only known each other 3 months before he proposed. The total time between meeting & marrying is about 6 months. I have no problem with this timeframe. They're both in their mid-twenties, they both have a bachelors degree, he already owns a house, so all of the "technical" responsible things are in place. I think that once you meet the right person you know right away. I don't get people who date for 9 years before they get married, really, you should know within about 6 months whether a person is a keeper or not. However, I do find it hilarious that they are "waiting" for marriage. Yes, I mean waiting as in not having sex, at all. I just don't see that as being the logical thing to do. Now, I don't think my step-sis is still a virgin, and I have no idea about her fiance, but doesn't it stand to reason that you might want to test drive the car before buying it? Maybe not. I fall back on the idea that women can sniff out a good man. If he smells right, you know he's a good one. He must smell pretty damn good if she's going in blind. One last cynical side note: I'd like to congratulate my mother on finally having a child, albeit not her own, that is doing things the "right way."

The Meat Rebellion

Last night we were talking to C on the phone. She was complaining about how her mom always makes "Meat, salad and bread" for dinner every night. C's stepdad is a butcher and they own their own shop. So naturally, there is always an abundant supply of meat around. C was saying that she's just sick of meat and that she isn't going to eat meat any more. She was telling N that she was only going to eat vegetables from now on. I found this hilarious. It just goes to show that if there is an over-abundace of anything in a childs life, they will rebel against it. N and I totally cracked up. C, the step-daughter of a Butcher, will probably grow up to be a vegetarian. If meat is the only thing she has to rebel against then I am truly thankful.

Again with the Toilets

Remember at my old job, how the bathrooms were? Now things are very different. I'm on the bottom floor of a 3 story building. There are only 2 bathrooms on this floor. One solo men's and one solo women's. The second floor only has a men's and I think the third floor has both... I'm so not a fan of the solo toilet bathroom. Simply because there is no choice involved. No opportunity to analyze the stalls, determine which of them is less likely to be used, and which ones appear less used/more clean. It's like a toilet dictatorship. I'm being opressed by this solo toilet regime. Now, it's not that I'm against hiking up 2 flights of stairs to get to the 3rd floor, its the possibility of an "emergency" that has me concerned. What if someone is occupying the downstairs solo? Running up stairs isn't exactly convenient when you have to go. And what if I'm in the solo and someone is waiting? Imagine the pressure. What if the person waiting tries the handle and I forgot to lock it! Gasp. And this bathroom isn't the typical square room with the toilet close enough to stop an opening door with your hand type bathroom. The toilet is about 20 feet away. The bathroom is more like a hall than a room. I know it will happen some day. I'll open the door and find some forgetful, unsuspecting woman on the throne - screaming. Or I'll be the lucky one who gets to scream "OH MY GOD! Oops!! I'm in here!!" Just wait. It will happen. And you'll all be here to read about it.

Happy Easter

Happy Easter P.S. N drew this bunny. He's a talented draw-er, especially cartoons :) Mine would have been a stick bunny.

Speechless

I cannot even describe how awesome the concert was last night. The opening "band" (and I use the term band loosely) was a chick wearing some 1920's poofy shirt with an electronic guitar singing, by herself....LAME!! Like N said, there isn't room for a Tori*Amos wanna be plaing the guitar...lol. She would have been better recieved at the Lillith*Fair or opening for Indigo*Girls or something. But, we were only the 2nd stop on his tour, the real opening band, The Dresden*Dolls, starts playing with him soon. So, the main event was spectacular. No, spectacular doesn't do it justice. I am at a complete loss of words to describe how fucking awesome the show was. We were in a booth in the front row. We were so close you could see the on/off button on Trent's mic. Close enough to see him smile, to see his six-pack when he lifted his shirt to wipe the water/sweat from his forehead, to see his ass is in his tight black jeans, to see how god damn sexy he is!!! Yes, I sang and screamed and whistled the whole time. I was the girl screaming, "I LOVE YOU TRENT" when there was a quiet moment. He looked at me. I know he did. That's my story and I'm sticking too it. P.S. I was totally within panty flinging distance

Little Bunny Foo Foo

C is here now, but will be going back home on Saturday. :( That means she and N will dye some eggs today and we'll have an early Easter egg hunt tomorrow night. I wish she could stay longer, but she's in 2nd grade and her spring break is only 1 week. We did have her for Easter when she was three. That was so fun! It was a nice day, so N decided to hide the eggs outside in the front and back yard. The house we were living in at the time had a nice cement pathway around the whole house, so it made for easy walking. We were a little worried that C would get frustrated and not be able to find the eggs out side because the yard was big, so N came up with the cutest idea. He got a bowl of flour and made little "bunny prints" outside leading to each of the eggs. He made the prints by dipping 3 fingers in the flour then "stamping" the sidewalk and even grass. I can still hear her sweet little pixie 3 year old voice, "Daddy!! Look at the bunny foo-foo feet prints!" "I'm gonna find you bunny foo-foo!" "Bunny Fooooooooooooooooo-foooooooooooooo!!!" "Where aaaaaaaare you?" "Look! Look! There's an egg bunny foo-foo left me!!"

Trent! Come to me baby!

I am getting so excited....Trent is coming. Tomorrow! Yes, I'll be going wearing jeans, boots, and some kind of black shirt. I think I'll do semi goth make up too, in honor of Trent. If I wasn't so apprehensive about getting hurt and getting my boobs and/or butt grabbed in the pit, I've contemplated bringing a pair of panties to throw at him. I can see it now... A nice pink thong, flung up on stage...Wait! It actually got caught on the mic stand. OMG! It's my thong!! Trent touched my thong!! Sure he threw it on the floor. He gets thongs thrown at him all the time, doesn't he? A girl's gotta have some fantasies right? lol. Trent is so on my list. You know the list I'm talking about. The list of people that if they offered, you could not be held accountable for your actions. The list of people that are just so unlikely to encounter you, and especially in that kind of way, that make it possible to have this kind of list. Honestly though, I'm so boring. There is no way I could do anything with those on my list. Hell, the only other person on my list is Bruce Willis, and if Trent or Bruce ever actually spoke to me, let alone try to put the moves on me, I'd probably pass out or be so tounge tied that they would think I ride the short bus and just feel sorry for me.

Marine*World

My little sweetheart step daughter, C, is here now. We went to pick her up on Saturday and brought my nephew along. We drove down to Vallejo, stopping at The Olive Pit to buy a half a case of assorted olives and garlic. Yummy! That evening was so weird though. It was just one of those nights were nothing was going to to right, no matter what we did. All of our travels were fine, come to think of it, maybe it was just Vallejo that sucked. After we checked into our hotel, we let the kids swim in the pool (they loved that) then went out to dinner at Black*Angus steak house. The food was awful...THE worst steak I've ever eaten. So, of course, I let them know just how disgusting it was and they took it off the bill. (good thing too because I was tired and grumpy and there would have been hell to pay) After that we went to see Robots, the worst movie I have seen in a long time. Even C asked me if we had to stay and watch the whole thing..lol. My nephew liked it though, so we stayed. (10 yr. old boy+robots of any kind = go figure) The kids were even in a bad mood. My nephew started telling C about how he ran away and all that. So he was all depressed. C was tired from the long drive. N and I were kind of tired too. By the end of the evening I half expected the car to just blow up on the way back to the hotel. On Sunday, Marine*World was awesome. It was a little rainy, so no one was there and there weren't any lines. C loves rollercoasters. The bigger and faster, the better. She was 1/2 of an inch shy of going on the 2 biggest ones :( So, we went on all of the other ones...over... and over.. and over!! N and I like rollercoasters, so we were having a blast. My nephew, G, on the other hand didn't start out so great. After we got into the park, G was at the point of a nervous breakdown. N basically sat him down and told him that he was going to go on the rides, end of story. He cried and freaked out the whole way to the first ride (which happened to be the scariest one that we could go on). He sat with me, and screamed, cried, begged not to go... "No!! I'm gonna die! Oh God NOOO! Don't make me! I can't! OH GOD WE'RE GOING TO DIE!!!" This of course is what he screamed after we were all buckled in on the first incline (you know, when they take you up real slow, just to go down the first fall). Before you think we're so mean and awful, let me tell you this. I was G when I was his age. My mother had to drag me clawing and screaming and crying to do ANYTHING! So, in one respect I really felt bad for G. On the other hand, looking back at my own childhood, I wish my parents had pushed me to do more. Maybe I would have gotten involved in sports or some other outlet for my hellacious teen-angst....? Maybe not. Anyways, 2 rollercoasters later G was loving it. We ended up going on the first one that he nearly "died" from at least 10 more times (at his request.) We drove home and ran into a storm coming over Donner Summit (yikes!). It was really nasty, but thank god for our Subaru. With snow tires on, there isn't much she can't handle. N drove, I slept (sorry honey) and eventually the kids fell asleep too. We didn't get home until almost 11, but that's okay. The little mini-weekend get away was worth it :) Creepy side note: We got to Marine*World an hour or so early (I thought it opened at 9, but it really opened at 10). There was a man standing in line next to us. He was about 6' 1", about 60 years old, maybe a bit younger. He was very thin, and was wearing blue pants, black velcro sneakers, a blue baseball cap, and thick rimmed glasses with one of those things that attaches to the glasses so you can wear them around your neck. His fingernails were very clean, and looked like they had been filed. He wasn't carrying a bag or anything. He was obviously there by himself. So, you're thinking Yeah? So? WTF are you doing checking out this old guy? My question is this: What kind of man that fits this description comes to a family (children's) amusement park on a Sunday morning, very early, by himself? My answer? A predator. No not the AVP kind, the child molesting, abducting, murdering kind. What can you do though? Report him on the grounds of striking a bad chord on my mommy radar? Maybe he likes the animals....(that's what I kept trying to tell myself anyways).

I swear, I'll update!!

Ok, First I have to say...I LOVE MY NEW JOB. My boss is way cool, my office has a window that opens, and I'm really liking all of the walking around exercise I'm getting here. Side Note: I know this is a little pre-mature, but in a few years when N and I have a baby, this will be so convenient - the on-site daycare is in the building right next to mine! We can't afford to have me stay home, so we'll need daycare. With this set up I'll be able to take breaks/lunch to BF (which is extremely important to me). Way cool!

First Day

My first day at my new job was yeserday, and it has been pretty busy so far! My boss took me around and did the "introduce you to everyone, and remember no one's name" thing. Today I'm going shopping to get some stuff for the office. Not bad huh?? Sorry, I don't have time to update more - I decided to read your blogs instead :)

Last Day

Today is my last day at my current job. I'm having mixed emotions about it. On one hand, I'm so excited about me new job/new office/time off/pay etc.. On the other, I am going to miss some of the people that I work with now. They're having lunch brough in from PF Chang's, my favorite chinese food and best Cosmopolitan of all time (well, I say that but I haven't had Jana's yet). So that is nice. A few people have given me cards and little gifts like a really pretty stationary notepad/notes for my new office. My boss actually gave me a pretty pink and silver anklet and matching toe ring. So, I don't know if they're just killing me with kindness hoping I'll feel guilty and not leave or what! The guilty part is working, but I'm still leaving.

St. Patrick's Day.

Yes, I think I am part Irish from my mum's side of the family. No, I won't be drinking any green beer tonight. Yes, we're having corned beef and cabbage for dinner. No, I'm not wearing green and if you think you're going to pinch me, be prepared to be punched in the fucking face.

Results of my Shopping Spree:

I had a shopping marathon last night. I literally stayed at the mall until it closed... On my list to buy: -Wedding gift for my sister -Bridal shower gift for my sister -Cute outfit for me to wear to the wedding First, I went to Tar*get because that's where my sister is registered. They didn't have any of the items in stock that she wanted, so I had to order them online today. I got her this set of dishes from her registry. Then I hit the mall. First, I went to the Gap, tried on a few things, couldn't make a decision, left with nothing... Then went to a few random stores that I never go in because they're usually too expensive, like Ann Taylor and Cache. They were still too expensive. I went to a few hoochie momma stores too, like Charlotte Russe and Wet Seal, but I don't want to look like a ho at my sister's wedding, right? I went to Victoria's Secret and couldn't make up my mind what sexy froo-froo thing to get my sister... I finally realized that it was my shoes, that were killing my feet and stifleing my ability to make a decision. So I headed over to American Eagle Outfitters and bought these thongs (except they're pink/orange/tan instead of the greens). After I swapped out my heels for the thongs I was feeling good. WTF was I thinking anyways wearing wedge heels shopping... So, I went back to the Gap and picked up a pair of pinstripped pants that I hadn't notice the first time around and a short sleeved sweater to go with it. And I decided to splurge and get a scarf to wear as a belt too... I'm feeling very confident and chic with my trendy/non-traditional wedding outfit. So, I head back to Victoria's to pick out something slinky for my sis. Their color right now is light purple, which is fantastic because that's my sister's favorite. I'd love to add a link, but my work has this dumb filter and you can't look at any web pages with "lingerie" in the subject. (Lame!). Anyways it's mooeeey sexy. That's all.

Happy Birfff-Day Mel!

Honey Dew Me

Thank you Mel for the good stuffs I got in the mail this weekend :) My car is smelling fabulous now, everytime I get in I think "mmmmmmmm....Honey Dew" then, of course I have to add on a "me" at the end, just because that's the kind of mood I've been in lately. Maybe its all the cookies I've been eating :X !! I had a fantastic weekend. We did some spring cleaning, took a load of junk we cleaned out of the attic to the dump, then went to Home*Depot to get some garden stuff, a new metal doggie watering bowl (because Fisher will chew right through a 5 gallon plastic bucket) and some caulk for around the sink and a few windows. I'm sorry, but I can't help but giggle at the word "caulk." I was driving N crazy with the caulk jokes. I just can't help it though "Do you need me to hold your caulk?" or "Can I use your caulk?" or "Damn, I got some caulk on me" or my favorite after N says he's going to caulk something "Ooo! Ooo!! Me next." I was trying to suppress it, but when we were at the Depot N grabbed 3 or 4 tubes of caulk and put them in the shopping card I just started cracking up...N was like "What?" and I just couldn't help but say "Wow honey, that sure is a lot of caulk." ---- Returning to my original train of thought. Mel - Did you know that East Coast girl scout cookies are different than West Coast cookies?? Over there, you call it a "Samoa," over here you call it a "Caramel Delight." Over there 2 cookies have 150 calories, over here they only have 140. Over there 2 cookies have 9 grams of fat, over here only 7. Samoas are thicker and the chocolate is darker. Caramel Delights are thinner and have more caramel. Does this seem odd to anyone else?

First Grass of Spring

Maricar Here is a spring paw for you :)
First Grass of Spring

Time for BREAKFAST!

Time for BREAKFAST! This is what a cat looks like when she's pissed off about having to wait until after I make the coffee to give her her precious breakfast. That's what she gets for waking me up a half hour before my alarm this morning.

Thank Goodness!!

The police found my nephew 20 miles away from home. He had ridden his little bmx bike clear across town and almost to California! Talk about scary. :( I always think the worst when something bad happens, and how we'd have to explain to C that her cousin was found in a ditch somewhere or worse.. The police that brought him back were just fantastic! There were about 10 officers/detectives at my BIL's house when I got there today. I guess my BIL had waited a while to call the police, thinking my nephew would just come back in an hour or so after he got tired. Well... we were all shocked to find out that when the officers found him he was on the freeway (Interstate!) headed west. Unbelievable. I am so thankful nothing bad happened. The officers gave him a really thorough talking to and were even considering booking him into the runaway children's ward, just to give him a little dose of reality. The decided to just take him home. I was just in tears when he walked from the police car... My BIL and SIL were talking to one of the officers when the officer brought him over to us, so I just went over and gave him hugs and told him I love him. Poor little guy. I know that lots of kids "run away" like my brother who packed his "binkie" and walked to the end of the driveway and changed his mind, but this was different. ETA: I just realized I forgot to include a very important detail. My nephew is only 10 years old. He's just a little kid.

My Nephew

My nephew, Gabriel, ran away today. N just called me and said that he left a note at home saying he's running away and he's going to San Jose to find his real mom (my SIL is technically his grandma, but she and my BIL have raised him since he was a baby). The police are at their house right now making the report and I hope, going door to door around the neighborhood. I have no idea if he just left after school or if he didn't even go to school today. I am in total shock and my BIL and SIL are hysterical. Any thoughts and prayers for his quick and safe return would be appreciated.

Amber's Best Outfits from the 5th Grade

I've been diggng around for these pictures since Andrea started the 80's meme's... So, here you go people. This is me circa 1988-89...
Netting and spandex...a must have!
Yes, that is a monster truck we're standing in front of. It was in Oree-Gone after all people!! Notice how much cooler my friend's hair is? I was always so jealous of the height she got on her 'do, and I think her home perm is better than my home perm.

Who's the Dork Now?

After a long stressfull day yesterday, I decided to unwind with a walk around the block with my 2 golden retrievers. My guys, Buxley and Fisher, are completely different in their "walking" style. Buxley is a nose to the sidewalk, charging ahead type dog. If I had rollerblades on, he'd happily pull me around. Buxley sets the pace, and basically - he walks me. He's my trail blazer, and HAS to be first. Fisher on the other hand is perfectly content strolling along right beside me, looking up at me with his foot-long tongue hanging out one side of his mouth, staring up at me not watching where he's going. If he actually had thoughts, I'd say he was thinking, "I love you mommy, I love you mommy, We walking, I love you mommy..." About 1/4 the way around the block, the dogs are being good. Buxley's leash is in my left hand and he's not pulling me too hard. Fisher's leash is in my right hand and he's walking right beside me. Fisher won't stop looking at me and his head is right at hand level. Fish's tounge is rubbing on my hand and I'm getting completely slimed with love. So I start talking to the boys, "Fisher, go on!" and he runs up with Buxley. So of course Buxley's position as leader it threatened now and he starts pulling harder. I say, "Bux, knock it off." Fisher thinks I'm talking to him now and runs back and licks my hand to say sorry. Then I say, "Fisher, stop sliming me. Gross!" So I stop and make them sit. I tell them, "You guys are such dorks! Stop the slobbering and the pulling!" Then, of course, they answer me (me talking out loud in dum-dum-doggie talk), "Yes, mommy we dork. We really really dork and we bad..." Then I look over and notice that the owner of the house we're stopped in front of is sitting on a garden bench on their front patio. This woman looked at me, and I smiled and waved hi, as if nothing wierd or strange was going on and the boys and I quickly and non-chelantly walked on. Fisher and Buxley both look at me like, "Who's the dork now, mommy?"

8 for the 80's - Music Edition

Thanks Andrea - I needed something fun to do this morning! 1. What did the music of that era mean to you then? I was only a gradeschooler then, so much of my music exposure was to god-awful christian music like Sandy Patti and Amy Grant (before she went secular...of course!)But once I was old enough to go to friends houses for slumber parties and what not I was "exposed" to the dark side ...lol. i.e. NKOTB, Tiffany, The Bangles, Debbie Gibson, Madonna. So, in a way the music of the 80's brings up rebelious feelings - listening to music that I wasn't supposed to be listening to. The other side of my 80's music experience was The Pointer Sisters, Tina Turner, Eddie Rabitt...lol. You see, my mother was an aerobics instructor in the 80's. And yes, that means that she had lycra workout outfits in every print and neon shade. The only thing she didn't have, thank god, were thos awful thong leotards that one would wear over spandex tights. 2. What song takes you right back, whenever you hear it? Tiffany, "I think we're alone now" In the 5th grade three of us did a dance to this song for the school talent show. Thank god my parents were too poor/cheap to have any kind of video camera back then. 3. Shuffle your playlist (I know you have one). What’s the first song listed from the 80’s? (not a cover!) My playlist now? Anything from the Smiths and believe it or not NINE INCH NAILS, yes, Trent's first album Pretty Hate Machine came out in 1989. 4. Your 80’s music icon was…? Madonna. She was so BAAAADDDD, I wanted to be her. I even remember in sunday school, the teacher making a comment about Madonna and her album Like a Virgin ...something to the effect of how bad secular music is now-a-days. This, of course, only made me want to listen to it more. 5. Hair bands! Discuss! I was soooooo not alowed to listen to any of this. Even my friends weren't cool enough to have hair band music. I do remember seeing a boy in a Guns-n-Roses t-shirt and thinking how incredibly sexy he looked...nevermind he was probably just some pimply faced 14 year old, but damn! 6. How much did your musical taste change from 1980 to 1989? I wouldn't say "change" so much as "discover" since I was born in '79. 7. Which big 80’s music star should just give up already? I'm going to copy Andrea here... Michael Jackson. Yes, I do love the song Thriller, but I am so tired of looking at his mangled face. 8. Which big 80’s musical talent are you glad to see has still got it? Again - Madonna. bonus question: When you first heard Bowling for Soup’s 1985, what did you do? I've never heard it.

I thought finding a new job was the hard part

This morning I gave my boss my letter of resignation and 2 weeks notice...and she cried. :(

DoodleBoard

In case anyone else was wondering what is up with the DoodleBoards lately, I finally decided to check the DoodleBoard Website and it's not free anymore. :( Boo Hoo I'm just too cheap to pay for it.

I got it!!

I can officially say now, thank you for the warm thoughs and good luck wishes! (I got a new job...one with my own office, new computer, mucho mucho more fun and intersting than my curent job)

Natural Extermination

Mel, your ant post made me think about our spring/summer spider-fest that happens every year. I have a HUGE problem with spiders. Every spring they come in packs. I don't know if its the heat that draws them inside or what, but I can. not. handle. SPIDERS. However, what is bad for some (me) is good for the others (Macy). We have a symbiosis of sorts. I hate spiders and she loves them or rather loves to eat them. (except for the black widows, N takes care of those ) As if my little cat isn't fat enough, in addition to eating her food, the dogs' food, and any scrap that touches the floor she also hunts down any bug that dares show his face in the house. If by chance, she's missed one and I find a spider I call in my ground support. Its to the point now where I don't even scream or gasp any more. I just let out a frantic "Macy! Macy! Macy!". She must know that tone in my voice because she comes running - and while she's running, she's grunting and meowing and purring all at the same time. It sounds like a heard of drunk goats running down the hall. So Macy scrambles in, wild eyed, much like Lucifer in Cinderella, to my rescue. Her spider eating ritual is so varied though. Sometimes she'll just munch it down, other times she'll sit on it (wtf?) or lay on it (wtf?) then toy with it for 2-3 minutes before eating it. Yes Macy, you are dominating the spider. Sometimes the purring and the crunching sounds are so gross, but that lusty look in her eye says "Thank you Mommy." Spiders are definitely her choice delicacy. I'd like to think of it as natural extermination. Macy and I aren't "killing" the spiders, we're just recycling them. It's the food chain in action.

Wish me Luck!

I can't realy say why...well not quite yet anyways. (lets just say "dooce" is why not) Anyways, I'm waiting to hear about "something." And lets just say that this "something" is something that I really really want. Wish me luck!

I'm shopping here people.

I went to Target on my lunch today to look for a nice springy looking coat, in tan or a light khaki to wear with my work clothes. I finally found the coats that Becky told me about. I walked up to the rack and no less than 5 seconds after I started browsing, 2 girls - maybe 19 or so - walked up behind me. One of them says to the other "See - These are the coats I was telling you about," and reaches over my shoulder, (picture her elbow on top of my shoulder) in between my arms and yanks out a coat. No "excuse me." No "pardon me." I was stunned. Since when is it okay to reach over people's shoulders and and grab stuff that they're looking at? Then I thought, "Good thing she grabbed a large, heh." Bitch. They didn't have anything smaller, so I was SOL anyways, but it's the principle! I'm shopping here people.

80's Meme

From : Andrea My 80's Meme :) 1. What was your hair like? ...Since I was born in 1979...*ahem* my 80's hair has ranged from "none" to long and straight with straight cut bangs (kindergarten) to the "bowl" cut (2nd-4th grade) to the home PERM (5th-6th grade) to the home PERM plus "wings" plus "claw bangs" (7th-8th grade).... 2. What did you *wish* your hair was like? Madonna 3. What was the coolest item of clothing you had back in the 80’s that is totally embarrasing now? Neon green spandex shorts that I wore - religously - with a pink wanna be hypercolor t-shirt...This of course should only be worn with neon pink ankle socks and jellies. 4. What was a cool fashion trend that you didn’t understand back then, and still don’t? Huge shoulder pads. 5. What was a fashion trend you *wish* would come back? I always liked the bangle bracelets. 6. … or that you were happy to see did come back? I like the 80's ish Tennis shoes that are coming back, and some of the short shorts. I like the scoop neck/off the shoulder sweaters too, however I'm so glad that they're not cropped just below the boobage like they were in the 80's. 7. Who was your 80’s fashion icon? Ferris Beuler's Girlfriend. That jacket rocked. 8. Describe your best (or worst) look for the eighties. (please see above - most embarrasing items of clothing)and top it off with a acid washed jean jacket... yeah. that would be it.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Why is it that most of us gain a few pounds over the winter? Is it the inclement weather and lack of daylight that cancels all excersize? Is it because we spend more time indoors and thus closer to fridge and cuboards? Yes, those are factors, but my theory is based on the popular clichee "Out of sight, Out of mind." In the winter, we wear more. In stead of the shorts, flip flops and sun dresses of the summer it's jeans, sweatpants and slippers. Those extra inches on the belly, butt and thighs are neatly hidden away, even if unintentionally, by black pants, skirts and heavy winter coats. Why do people start their exercise program on New Years? It's not because of the annual resolution b.s. - it's because spring is just 3 or 4 months away and the thought of jiggley white thighs in a bikini is quite scary. Its that first time you pull out a pair of shorts and get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and are stricken with a look of suprise and disgust. Where did we think that 3rd helping of stuffing and chocolate cake was going? Side Note: Two things that have to be ruled out of my theory - American Nudists and people who go to county fairs. Any nudist I have ever seen whether it be in real life or on TV is not exactly an eye-pleaser. (yes, I grew up in Oregon and those damn nudists just love it there) Nudist aren't nude because they like the way thier bodies look, they are naked because thats the way thay like it and really don't give a f*ck what they look like or who has to endure looking at them. Also, the county fair go-ers. I have been to many-a-county fair and have yet to attend one where there weren't tons (literaly) of women walking around with tube tops, bikini tops, and various other "in-your-face" revealing clothing...not to mention the huge and/or sweaty and/or hairy men walking around shirtless with Richard Simmons shorts on. This thought occured to me last night. I was putting some of N's jeans in the washing machine and was thinking..."I've got to remember to put these into the dryer right after dinner so they are dry before we go to bed..and they can be folded and not just sit in the dryer and get wrinkled..." After I started the washer I went into the bedroom to change out of my work attire and decided that I'd just wear a t-shirt and undies while I cooked dinner. My logic was that if I wasn't wearing pants, I wouldn't forget to put N's pants into the dryer. no pants = don't forget pants I walked out into the kitchen, feeling very clever about my no-pants, pants reminder and started to cut up some cucumbers for salad. While standing there I looked down at my thighs. I did a work out yesterday and I am actually sore as hell, so I went to stretch and was just appaled by the lack of tone and addition of saddlebags on my thighs. I stood there for a minute and checked myself out and thought, Oh hell no. I have to start running again, rain or shine. So, I went back to my room and put on my sweat pants. I think a naked reality check will be a regular part of my diet/exercise plan. Bonus: My step mom is a health & wellness instructor at the community college I went to. I took her class and one thing she said about determining how much extra fat you have is this: Get Naked in front of a full lenght mirror. Hold on to your boobs and jump up and down 5 times. Stop very suddenly on your last hop and look at whatever keeps jiggling... that's what needs to go.

Danger Zone

Between 2:00 and 4:00 is my snack attack danger zone. I can feel it.... Its almost 2:00 and that urge to go eat something incredibly good, but not so good for me is coming on.... Every day it's the same. I want to go get a big old hunk of chocolate or chips or something else deliciously fattening and sweet. I need to set a goal or something. "No eating between 2 and 4 pm." If I did that, I swear I'd lose 5 lbs.

Cheap ? or just Anti-Social ?

A few weeks ago some friends from work asked me to join their bowling team. I thought about it for a while, mentioned it to N - he said I should do it - and I thought...well, I don't really do anything, so why not. I'm beginning to second guess my decision. 2 of the women on the team, I would consider friendly aquaintances. They were there for me during a couple of hard times a few years ago, but I haven't really returned the favor... and as silly as this may sound - Since I changed departments I don't really talk to them all that much. Maybe once a month I'll catch them on a break or something. I guess you could call them circumstantial friends. I've never been the kind of person to do stuff. I never did sports in school, well other than one or two things in grade school. I don't like the commitment or expense of it all. The only after work activity I ever did and enjoyed was an evening Yoga class - but it was free and very convenient. But this is bowling, not exactly excercise, or exactly healthy with all the smoking and nacho cheese. I'm also cheap. I don't want to pay $14.50 to get my "pass" to get into the bowling center then $13.00 to bowl plus $3.50 for shoes per week. This league lasts until the end of April. That's $165.00 that I could spend on new shoes or something. Why do I always get so negative about these kinds of things? I usually just say "no" when people ask me to do stuff like this. Why did I say "yes" this time? I don't really know. A few weeks ago, N and I were in the middle of a heated argument and he made a comment about me not having any friends. At the time I took it very personally, but he is right. I don't have many friends, or any really really good freinds IRL at all. I don't think it's because I'm a mean/controlling/bitchy/unreasonable person - It's just not convenient. If I worked with people that I actually had more in common with other than work I probably would have some friends. The truth is, making friends IRL takes a bit of work. In order to make friends you have to do stuff together. Here we are again with the doing. Isn't it ironic that I don't have a child and don't want to do stuff, but I'm sure that if I did have a child I'd want to go do stuff? Anyways, I feel this pressure (from myself) that I should do more things, and try to make some friends... but why? It's so hard to find a good IRL friend who is simmilar enough to me that they don't annoy me and different enough from me that they don't annoy me. Someone who has the same kind of schedule and priorities that I do...If its not low maintenance, then its not happening. Ugh. I don't think I'm gonna go.

Betty

The party was fantastic. In fact, so fantastic that I didn't get to take too many pictures. Of the pictures I did take, I am either laughing, talking, drinking or eating and of course, making the worst possible faces. Seriously people, I look like I should be riding the short bus. Anyways, one of the girls there took a bunch of pictures, so when I get them, I'm sure there will be one suitable for posting. We had 3 houseguests, 2 friends and my dad, staying with us and about 20 more people showed up for the party. My nick name while we're playing is "Betty." Originally my brother in law started calling me that because I always make homemade chocolate chip cookies everytime we get together. So, I'm Betty Crocker, Betty for short...lol. In the heat of the game, I like to say "get crockered", ya know.. instead of "get f*cked." My brother in law also yells "Damn you Betty!...I just got crockered!!!" in the heat of battle. heh. As Betty, I had a freaking busy weekend. I started cooking Friday night, then didn't stop doing dishes until Sunday afternoon. I must have run the dishwasher 5 times on Saturday. For the party I made: -Deviled Eggs -Chocolate Chip Cookies -Chocolate Cream Puffs (home made with real pudding, not box) -and I prepped 8 pounds of chicken wings for N to bar-b-q People brought all sorts of good dishes for the potluck too like lasagna, chicken enchiladas, salads... yum! Oh yeah! I also made mexican egg caserole, homemade biscuits and a ham for the hangover breakfast. mmmmmm and like 3 pots of coffeee... Doesn't seem like a lot of work... but my god, it felt like it. And suprisingly enough... no one spilled a drop of pink jungle juice on my almost white/cream carpets. Amaizing, really, considering the amount of people we had mulling about with a plastic cup full. It was all worthwhile though, the work to prep, cook, and clean up. N and I really pride ourselves in being good hosts whether its for grandparents visiting or a big party like this. I overheard one of N's friends telling him... "Man, you're so lucky that your wife supports your interests like this [video gaming] and lets you re-arrange all of the furniture and take the house apart just for an xbox party. My wife would be like 'no way!'" Aw!! Ok, so that was nice to hear. Then on Sunday morning after breakfast, both of N's friends told me that the didn't want to leave and asked me if I would adopt them...lol. Truth be told, I really like cooking and I like playing video games a lot, so it really isn't much of a "compromise" on my part to have one of these parties. I joke sometimes and say "well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, then beat 'em." Speaking of beating them...I was 4th place in the tournament..I made it to the third round!!! Damn racing games...I tottaly suck at those. (I swear I'm not competitive...um no.. not at all...) So, then I did basically nothing the rest of the weekend.. and that was quite nice. On a sweet side note - Thank you Maricar for the treats!! YUM YUM YUM. I got them in the mail on Saturday...however didn't actually retrieve them from the mailbox until Monday, heh :).

Fraguary 2005

We're having a freaking huge party this weekend. There should be about 20 or so people coming over. My dad drove down from Oregon and arrived about 10:00 last night. 2 of N's friends from Sacramento should get here tonight too. It will be a full house, to say the least. In our house, we lova-da-XBOX, and every so often have parties where all of our friends who are also xbox lovers come over and we hook everyone up to everyone else and then kill and or race each other while drinking ungodly amounts of alcohol until 4 or 5 in the morning. This is what we like to call a Frag Fest. Or this month, Fraguary 05. This time, my husband set up a tournament. Yes, a Quatrathlon actually. There are 4 rounds: Round 1 - Halo2, Slayer, top 8 players advance Round 2 - RainbowSix3, Deathmatch, top 4 players advance Round 3 - Rally Sport2, Rally, top 2 players advance Round 4 - TETRIS, illimination If I could make it to Tetris, I would seriously kick ass. But being as that is slightly unlikely I'll just give it my best...lol. Now on to the really important stuff... The drink of the evening - Jungle Juice. Now all you good little Catholic girls know what that is. Don't try to pretend like you dont. *ahem* Some people make it with everclear...and quite frankly, I really don't know what is in this stuff...the last time our friend made it I only caught a few of the ingredients: Vodka rum 6pack of beer Blackberry Brandy Sprite Orange Juice Grape Juice Watermelon, cantalope, mango pieces Whiskey (?) I don't know, but it is really really good. So, my point is that I might not be around too much this weekend. My dad is staying in our spare bedroom and that's where my computer is. TGIF & Have a great weekend :) If I'm feeling crazy, you might get a "drunk Amber" picture on Monday...maybe.

Things about me... or so my handwriting analysis says.

I have a normal size loop in my yand g. Amber has a healthy imagination and displays a fair amount of trust. She lets new people into her circle of friends. She uses her imagination to understand new ideas, things, and people. When I cross my 't' it points to the right. Amber is sarcastic. This is a defense mechanism designed to protect her ego when she feels hurt. She pokes people harder than she gets poked. These sarcastic remarks can be very funny. They can also be harsh, bitter, and caustic at the same time. I write my M and N in more of a zig-zag, no loopy or pointy humps. Because Amber has zigzag'ed shaped 'm' and 'n' hump, Amber is an analytical thinker. Her mind sifts and examines facts. She interprets all facts by separating them, breaking them down, and organizing them from a critical point of view. This pattern of clarifying facts contributes to her strong reasoning ability. Amber's mind is constantly analyzing all situations that she encounters. The humps on my M slope (first hump higher than the second) Diplomacy is one of Amber's best attributes. She has the ability to say what others want to hear. She can have tact with others. She has the ability to state things in such a way as to not offend someone else. Amber can disagree without being disagreeable.

Seat Up Please

I am one of the few women who actually prefer that their husbands leave the toilet seat up. This is not because I have just "made peace" with the toilet seat being up or realized the yin and the yang (he puts it up, she puts it down) of the whole female/male toilet seat dilema. I'm not trying to claim some high and mighty stance above all other women who bitch and moan about having to lift the lid. Its just how I like it. It wasn't untill this last summer, when I was reminded why I've always been ok with the seat up and exactly why I prefer it that way.

******

We were up in Oregon, staying at my dad's house for the weekend. We stay in my step brother's room, because he only comes to their house a few weeks at a time, so that room is usually un-occupied. There are 3 bathrooms in my dad's house, one downstairs, one in the master bedroom and another one upstairs for the other bedrooms. My younger brother still lives at home with my dad, so the bathroom is shared between us and him when we're visiting. I wear contacts and am horribly blind without them. I take them out at night, but I can still get around, say, to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. The thing is, I can see general shapes - things are just real fuzzy. I can see people, but not faces unless they're less than 4-5 feet away. I can tell the difference between the dogs and the cat. I can tell if the toilet seat is up or down. However, I cannot tell if someone, let's say my brother, peed on the seat. I'm sure you can see where this is going. At approximately 12:30 pm, I sat down to go and instead of the nice dry yet cold seat it was more like a fear factor slip-n-slide. Gross. So gross. WTF! So I'm thinking WHY? WHY? WHY?WHY???? Its either one of 3 things: either my brother is also very blind, he is a sleep-walk-pee-er, or he is just an inconsiderate slob who doesn't bother lifting the lid. At this point, I start feeling sorry for any woman who might live with my brother. If you think lifting the seat is bad, try having to take a bottle of clorox spray to clean the seat before you pee every single time.

******

So that is why I'm a "Seat up" kind of gal. My reasoning is that if I have to put the lid down to pee, that pretty much guarantees that the last male who used it actually lifted the lid and there will NOT be pee on it.

Oh. No. He. Didn't !

I came home from work early today, right around the time that the middle schools get out, or so I found out. I pulled into my neighborhood and noticed a boy at the end of the street, probably 13 or 14 standing in front of his house jumping up and down, doing the "ants in the pants" dance. I didn't think much of it until I got a little closer. I notice that in addition to the dancing and jumping up and down, this kid has his hands, in his pants. I'm thinking, whaaaa?? does he have a crazy lizard or a bug or something that crawled down his pants?? The urgency on his face trying to get whatever it was in his pants out was quite obvious. Just as I'm passing by, he stops jumping around. I think to myself...well, he must have solved whatever pants problem he had going on... And then I see what's really going on.... The thing in his pants was"IT." And just as I drove by "IT" was OUT and he is peeing on a pile of snow, in his front yard, facing the street!!!! As soon as I realized what was really going on, I must have turned 3 shades of red. I hit the gas and sped off so fast. I couldn't believe it. What in the world was he thinking!!?? ETA: Just for clarification's sake...I live in a nice neighborhood, really, I swear. This is not some Vegas trailer park here. We're talking families (obviously), older couples, tottaly suburbia.... I think if I ever see this kid's mother I might have to say something...

Sucky Sucky

Blogger is sucking today. I've logged on to post something 3 different times, and I keep gettting wierd pages and errors and none of my interesting posts will post ...and I just don't like that kind of thing. So, here's a picture of Fisher's sweet little boo-boo face:
Fisher

Luva-Luva-Luva Him.

We had a very lovely Valentines Day yesterday. We both wanted a nice quiet evening at home, so I went by the grocery store to pickup some fresh seafood for dinner. At the grocery store there were hoards of men, young and old alike, in line with a dozen semi wilted flowers, a card and those awful generic heart shaped boxes of not so savory chocolate. There was a young guy in line ahead of me with a dozen red roses and a bottle of sparkling apple cider. I wanted to tell him so bad, "Don't waste your money, dear. Write her a poem. Make her a handmade Valentine. She'll be much more impressed with you..." But I minded my own business. It's a shame that even 16 year old boys are succumbing to the V-Day crazyness. Anyways....I went home, was greeted by my sweetheard with a kiss and a smile, then started on dinner... On the menu: Steamed Clams with garlic butter for dipping Sautee'd Prawns, in garlic, rosemary and olive oil Baked penne with 3 cheese sauce (fontina, mozzarella and parmesan) Mixed green salad Sourdough bread YUM!! Everthing turned out really great. While we were setting the table the cat made off with a few pieces of lettuce. (?) N found the lettuce on the floor with a few little knawing marks. I guess the lettuce wasn't as good as Macy thought it would be, heh. We enjoyed dinner together, then cleaned up and played Xbox for the rest of the evening. Now that's what I call a great Valentines Day.

Don't Be Jealous

Trent is coming to my town. MY TOWN!!!! Tickets are on sale tomorrow. *faint* **************UPDATE************ We actually GOT tickets!!! The show sold out within MINUTES!!! Can you tell by the number of exclamation points how excited I am ?!?!?!?!?!?!?

The Birds

About a week ago I started feeding the birds again. The bird house had been buried under snow the for almost the entire month of January and I just forgot about it. It took the birdies a day or two to notice that the birdhouse actually had food in it again. Now it's like an Alfred Hitchcock movie every morning... I wake up, get my robe and big pink slippers on and go into the kitchen. The sun is just starting to come up, the sky is a dusky blue/grey/pink. I turn on the kitchen light gradually using the dimming switch. Tell the doggies to lay down and trip over the cat as she chases me around. Macy always meows at me until I feed her (you'd think I'm starving her by the boo-boo face/desperate meowing). So, I feed the fatcat, make coffee and look outside and notice a row of birds sitting in a single file row along my fence...waiting. watching. waiting... There must have been almost 20 of them sitting there with their feathers all fluffed up. A few were playing around in the bird feeder, pecking and kicking around the shells of seeds, as if to say "What the hell lady! We need some food now!" I walked out on the back patio to fill up the dog dishes, the birds watched and a few of them squawked at me. They're getting pretty brave! I filled the bird feeder and as soon as the sliding door clicked shut it was a feeding frenzy. I better go buy some more bird seed this weekend, I'd hate for things to turn ugly.

Voice in my head - Where are you?

Hello! Earth to Amber.... *crickets* *crickets* There are so few things that I need to remember, why is it that my mouth takes complete control over me and those thing that are important to me escape my consciousness. Where is that little voice that should be saying, "Am, seriously you should shut up,"or "Hm.. it would be best to say ________, instead of _______ right now," or even "Amber, what do you really mean to say?" before I open my mouth. Is this why I talk to myself all the time? Because things don't register with me unless I say them outloud? Maybe. I feel like Austin Powers when he's first thawed out from being cryogenically frozen...."How do I tell them that because of the unfreezing proh-cess I have no inner monologue? I hope I didn't say that out loud just now." That's me in a nutshell - "Why didn't I think before I said that..." But its not silly or cute or funny like a naked Mike Meyers with bad teeth. Instead, I'm more like that guy in The Godfather, who just said/did the wrong thing and you're just waiting for them to whack him. It's going to happen, you know it, there's no way that guy is going to make it through the second half of the movie.

I know this is cheezy but it made me laugh...

(I recieved this in an email from a friend, I have no idea who the original author is. If I did, I would give them credit) Jack wakes up at home with a huge hangover he can't believe. He forces himself to open his eyes, and the first thing he sees is a couple of aspirins next to a glass of water on the side table. And, next to them, a single red rose! Jack sits down and sees his clothing in front of him, all Clean and pressed. Jack looks around the room and sees that it is in perfect order, spotlessly clean. So is the rest of the house. He takes the aspirins, cringes when he sees a huge black eye staring back at him in the bathroom mirror, and notices a note on the table: "Honey, breakfast is on the stove, I left early to go shopping--Love you!" He stumbles to the kitchen and sure enough, there is hot breakfast and the morning newspaper. His son is also at the table, eating. Jack asks, "Son...what happened last night?" "Well, you came home after 3 A.M., drunk and out of your mind. You broke some furniture, puked in the hallway, and got that black eye when you ran into the door." "So, why is everything in such perfect order, so clean, I have a rose, and breakfast is on the table waiting for me?" His son replies, "Oh, THAT ... Mom dragged you to the bedroom, and when she tried to take your pants off, you screamed, "Leave me alone, lady, I'm married!" Broken furniture - $85.26 Hot Breakfast - $4.20 Red Rose bud - $3.00 Two Aspirins - $.38 Saying the right thing, at the right time ..... Priceless.

Valentine Commercials

What is up with Valentines Day commercials? We watched TV for a couple of hours last night and every other commercial was either for jewelry, flowers or chocolate. The themes of course, that women NEED chocolate, diamonds, rubies, earrings, necklaces, rings and 4 million dozen long stem red roses to feel loved .... or else. (well that part about needing chocolate is true, but not to feel loved. We don't need a stupid holiday to pressure our "sweethearts" into buying it for us either. I'm perfectly capable of dropping $.50 on a dove bar when the craving strikes and can then thank my sweetheart that there is moo-lah in the bank) If there ever was a holiday that I would boycot, it would be Valentines day for sure. I would feel bad recieving a gift from N brought on by pressure and the expectation of something so fantastic that I just break down into tears and sob uncontrollably because of the beauty/expensiveness of the gift...you know the commecial I'm talking about....*grabs garbage can under desk, thinks about puking* Who are these sickly high-maintenance women demanding these things at every opportune holiday?? So after the 20th jewelry commercial, I looked over at N and told him how ridiculous I think this all is. And he says, no kidding - What do Men get for V-Day? You don't see any commercials telling women that they MUST buy their husband a new wide screen plasma TV for Valentines day or a new top-of-the-line DVD player... hmmm... just a little commercial double standard there. My favorite Valentines gift, ever, was when N made me a Valentine the old fashioned way... with paper, scisors and glue with pink and red hearts all over it. If I had my choice, that's what I'd pick for a V-Day gift every year.

Cute Things

I was just thinking of things that my step daughter used to say when she was little, and I don't want to forget them... Ninchelada = Enchilada UnTuxedo = Tuxedo Garbage Chicken = Seagull Baby Tree = Neutrea (rat like beavers that live in Oregon) Sleeping B-D-U = Sleeping Beauty Hooker = clothes hanger Go Fasters = sneakers Possell = Popsickle

to blog or not to blog

That is the question in my mind for the last week. Maybe not blogging often, but I'll go with ..."to blog"

Good Advice from Grandma

I haven't been updating my blog regularly lately, as you may or may not have noticed. I've been going through a "boring" phase. I think of something to write, get a half of a sentence down, delete, think "what was I going to say?"...."oh hell, I don't really know anyways..." Then the procrastination...."Oh, I'll just write something tomorrow..." I guess that could be considered a good though, since I can't think of anything to bitch about. lol. On the other hand, there isn't anything that I've been doing or contemplating lately that is that cool, or interesting enough to actually type out. Maybe this post will work like a 12 step program...the first step is admitting that there's something wrong - or in my case - that I'm completely un-interesting and un-inspired lately. I was talking to my Grandma this weekend, who is coming to visit on Friday. She was telling me about how she had talked to one of my cousins (they get together every week for breakfast) and that my cousin, Ash, was bored and her boyfriend was busy, and she didn't have anything to do...and my Grandma said, "Well, I just told her that she needs to get a life!" Good advice Grandma.

Hello Modern World - I'm Back!

I got a cell phone. There are a few reasons that led me to this decision. 1. Getting rearended last week. If that accident had been worse I would have had to rely on some rubbernecker to call the police, or god forbid an ambulance. 2. I am tired of using payphones. Payphones are inherently dirty and nasty and I always feel itchy all over like I've just contracted some sort of vile disease from the last 500 people who might have used the phone. Gross. If I had a Kleenex with me I'd use it to handle the phone like Jack Nicholson in As Good as it Gets. Hypochondriacs + payphone = doesn't work. 3. I just like the convenience. 4. The plan I got lets my hubby and I call each other for free - that's cool. Also, in the interest of mine and all other drivers on the road's safety - I got a headset for the car. I am not the best of drivers, you can ask my husband. I am a moderately good driver, at best, so handling a cell phone and driving at the same time is just not in the cards for me.

Grass is Always Greener on the Other Side of the Year

Instead of complaining about the winter on the "Most Depressing Day of the Year" I'm going to concentrate on what I'm thankful for. According to that article there is a formula to calculate this statement. The model is:([Weather + (Debt-Monthly Salary)] x Time since Christmas x Time since failed Quit Attempt)/(Motivation Levels x Need to take Action) Ok, so the psychologist who made this up lives in Britan - make sense now? As for me.... Bad weather? - Check. Definitely having bad weather Monthly Salary? Good. I got a Christmas bonus, our household income is steady and the future looks promising. Debt from Holiday spending? - Nope. Not this year. Feeling sad that the excitement of the Holiday Season is over? No way. The holidays were good, but I don't miss them. Broken New Years Resolutions? - Nope. I don't make New Years Resolutions. Motivation Level? - I think actions speak louder than words on this one. This weekend I cleaned the house (mostly), did the laundry, bathed both dogs and the cat, cleaned out the cupboards in the 2nd bathroom, organized the linen closet, cleaned out the junk basket under the phone, did all of the filing, pulled out all of the documents we're going to need to do taxes, baked 2 loaves of bread and still had time to sleep in past 10 everyday and snuggle with my honey. Need to take Action? - What is so urgent? I don't know. I'm feeling very glass-is-half-full right now and I am thankful for these things:

1. My husband, my sweetheart, N.
2. My fur-family. These little aminals bring a smile to my face every day.
3. It snowed when my step-daughter was here. How fun - to go sledding in your front yard during the holidays. And even though she missed school, I'm glad she was stuck here because of the weather and we got to spend a few more days with her.
4. That it is winter. Seasons change and thank goodness they will continue to change.
5. My car. If we didn't have the vehicles that we have, there is no way I could drive anywhere and I can't take the entire month of January off, can I?
6. Our house. Yes, it costs $250 to heat in the winter, but it sure is nice and warm.
7. I learned how to make bread this winter.
8. I actually started making my catnip toys, like I said I would.
9. It is cold, and that means lots of snuggling.
10. Speaking of snuggling - the cat sleeps with us under the blankets, but only in the winter. It's like having your own little electric blanket - that occasionally bites you.
11. I made a to do list for the snowed in season and have actually done some of the things I have been wanting to do.
12. Being snowed in and too far away from a gym inspired my sweety to get Yourself!Fitness and I really like it. It has a great yoga meditation garden.

Ok, so there are alot more things that I'm thankful for, but that is what's coming to mind right now.

I won't lie though. The grass is still greener on the other side of the year. I love summer. It's my absolute most favorite-est time of year. Midnight and it's 70 degrees here. Hot summer sun, gardening, bar-b-q's, camping...I really can't wait. But before that comes I will enjoy the rest of this cold (freezing!) cozy (cabin fever!) pretty (nothing but ice) winter.

Notes to Self for this Summer.

When its 100 degrees out and you're complaining about the heat... -Remember the storm that left 3 feet of snow on your front yard for 4 weeks and counting. When its so sunny that you're agonizing over finding dark enough sunglasses... -Remember the FOG, the nasty awful chilling fog. The fog that was so foggy you couldn't see the freeway off ramp signs until you were on the off ramp. When you're considering not taking the dogs with you on you walk because they are a real pain on a leash... -Remember their sad little faces that hung out with you all winter. C'mon...they stuck it out with you. When you are sweating like a pig on your jog, trying to think of a way to wear less clothing but not look like a ho... -Remember when everything was completely iced over and jogging wasn't even an option. There was so much ice, walking wasn't even an option. When you're in the car, on a long drive, the sun is shining right into your eyes and you're getting a sunburn through the wind shield... -Remember driving in the snow, and ice, and slush and how your street didn't get plowed for weeks. Yes weeks! When you're working in the yard and think you're going to pass out from the heat... -Suck it up and get some Gatorade. You didn't see your backyard for the entire month of January. When the sun wakes you up at 4 in the morning... -Get up. Remember how hard it was to get up at 6:00 when it was pitch black, and it didn't even start to get light until you're on your way to work?

A Day at the Spa

My poor little princess...Well, even princesses take baths, right? It looks like she's crying :( I used this special "tear-free" kitty shampoo. Better watch my back this weekend...

Brains are gone

I'm sick. Still. Remember what I said about Robitussin? I lied. I'm on bottle #2 and it is the most wretched liquid on earth. I have one of those coughs that is so awful its embarrasing. People come up to me and ask "Are you okay?", "Are you choking?", "Are you taking your cough medicine?" YES!! god damn it, I'm taking my cough medicine, and no, I'm not choking, thank you. My coughing is so loud, I'm giving myself a headache. The cat hasn't even wanted to sleep with me at night. I feel like I'm coughing my brain out. Seriously. No more brains left, yet I'm still coughing.

I'm getting old

We went out to party with some friends this weekend. They got a hotel room to have the party at, so we decided that it would be a good idea to get our own hotel room, preferably not within streaking distance from theirs. My drinking plan that night was VODKA. Planning your drinking in advance - definitley a sign of getting older. I figured vodka would give me the most options and hopefully reduce the likely hood of a nasty hangover. After meeting up and checking into our room, we went down to the casino floor and ate at some fancy ass brewery where they had the beer flowing through glass tubes in the ceiling. That was fascinating. Food was semi-okay. Brewery ettiquite is kind of odd to me. There is such enormous pressure to have a glass of their foofoo beer. Um, I'll have the bitch-on-wheels pale ale...lol. No thanks. So, I orderd a cosmo. We went back to the party hotel room, played drinking games for a while (to get drunk and not pay $5/drink) then went out to a local bar that doesn't have a cover charge. The bar was way fun. The girls we were with were of the experimental clam-digger wanna be types, so in addition to grabbing my husbands ass on occasion, I was getting sqeezed too. We danced like drunk college girls. I was asked to dance by several men (my sweetie was with the "guys", drinking beer, watching the festivities). Thank goodness for my little girlfriends. There something so sad about the dejected look on a guys face after he asks to dance with you and you say, "oh, sorry - I'm dancing with her..." So anyways, we're all congregated around the home-base table where the guys were sitting and one of the ladies that is loosely affiliated with our group starts dancing with some tall cowboy looking guy. This woman is probably about 45, very drunk and I'd describe her as kind of a burn out, aging hippie type. I knew this woman was trouble from the beginning. Before I was introduced to her as N's wife, she was all googley trying to talk to him...lol. yeah right lady. Anyways... Aparently the tall cowboy's girlfriend wasn't to excited about our friend dancing with him and she came running at her yelling "You f*cking whore, so and such, stay away from....blah blah " so I'm like 3 feet away from this cat fight and I reach over to N, grab his shirt and of course, my sweet husband sees the look of drunken panic in my eyes and grabs me, puts me behind him so quickly I didn't even see the fight. It was a split-second before the bouncers hauled the fighters out and in a blink of an eye all was back to normal. I was expecting the record to screach to a halt (you know, like on the movies), but it didn't. We left shortly thereafter. At this point I'm not sure how many vodka cranberry's I've had, but I'm definitly at a point where I feel good, but I'm getting tired of dancing. We decide to go back to the hotel. So after walking around for what seemed like hours we finally got to the lobby. There was this fantastic chair there. It was like a royal chair, with a really high back and room for at least 2 people sitting on it. So, while everyone was trying to decide on what to do next, I snuck off and had my moment of Zen, as queen. So, after being queen, I was getting tired of the two-o-clock in the morning "what are we going to do?" "I dunno what do you want to do" crap and started feeling the lag... I like to think that I'm pretty easy going when I'm out with a group of friends. No dramatic outbursts (aside from having to be carried out on occasion due to passing out), no fighting or crazyness, but I do have my limits. When I get tired, I do get bitchy. But I realize that and once I reach that point of no return, I know it. That's why we got a hotel room... so when the inner bitch wants out, I can put her to bed.

Pezz Soap Dispenser

I was chatting on the phone with my nephew Gabriel last night. His name means "Angel of Articulation" translation: 10 year old chatter box. So we discussed the very important issues that have been going on in his life. He finally beat the elite four on Poke*mon, and that's after he had a really hard battle with the eigth gymleader. Thank god his blazy-kin is up to a level 77 now, and that's only because he got the exponential surge that helped level up his less powerful pokemon. Seriously - this is a big deal. He's been trying to beat the elite four for over a year now. And I, faithful auntie, have been by his side waiting for updates. He got the "Series of Unfortunate Events" books for Chirstmas this year. He read me a few pages from the 9th book. The characters he told me about were the man with no beard and the bald woman with a beard. lol. We were trying to come up with a good idea for his school science project this year...Of course, I have no ideas. I was never good at that kind of stuff. So Gabe's idea is a soap bar sized pez dispenser to keep in the shower. I thought that was a fantastic idea. Imagine this giant pez dispenser with a Tweety bird head on it that pops out a bar of soap when you pull it back. Well, you know what they say... Neccesity is the mother of invention. heh.

I'm a sicko

Yes, it's official. I'm sick. I have an enormous headache, a nasty phlegmy dry cough and I just want to go home and sleep. And my sickly confession... I like the taste of Robitussin.

WTF Mr. Kikkoman!!

Dear Mr. Kikkoman, I tried your teriyaki chicken marinade tonight. I cut up my chicken wings last night, mixed the marinade package as directed, marinated the wings in a plastic bag overnight, cooked them as directed, and they tasted awful. I'm sure slugs have a better flavor than that! First of all, I know you are a Mr. because no woman would invent a marinade that takes advanced planning and preparation without testing it. Second, how can there be absolutely no taste of teriyaki on wings that have been marinating for 24 hours? I mean seriously! The only sign of teriyaki was the gooey slimy sauce that covered the wings. GROSS!!! I thought that they would be full of flavor and good. I was most certainly wrong. If you didn't know, there are a lot of women that like to cook a "good meal" for their families. Your Teriyaki marinade packet would not be considered such. Some women actually count on your type of "trusted" name brand condiments for a delicious dinner. But no more. FU mr. Kikkoman Sincerely, Wife of a hungry husband.

missymacy 

Darth Mother

I have come to the realization that the women in my family are much like Darth Vader and I, like Luke, am trying to resist the dark side. The women in my family are controlling, bossy, cold, calculating and manipulative. OK, so I am talking in extremes here, they do have good points, I'm just not focusing on those today. The problem here is that it comes naturally to me to just be a know-it-all, bossy, controlling bitch and I really don't like that kind of thing. I am a contradictor. This is probably one of the most annoying things about me. In some cases it is good. Like when a friend is feeling down, I can always think of something positive to say or if something bad happens around the house...Well, yeah, the power is off but we can snuggle in the candle light now. (you see - even now, I'm contradicting myself, trying to justify how being a contradictor can be good) It's the other things that get me in trouble, that sometimes I don't even realize until they cross my lips. For instance, N will mention how nice it would be to have __insert cool high-tech new thing of the week here____ and I immediately start thinking of reasons why that isn't a good idea or how we can't afford it. Then I stop, thank god almighty that I didn't say that out loud and realize that I'm just being a controlling hag and say nothing. This is the one that threw me over the edge though. It was when Darth Mother herself was here during the holidays. We were riding back from the infamous Halibut lunch and my step dad and N were talking about trucks. My step dad wants to get a truck like ours that has the double cab. So N says something to the effect of "Yeah, this truck really is great. It's like having the best of both worlds between a SUV and a truck." So here it comes...the inner contradictor, come my child, the dark side awaits... in my head I think to myself..."yeah, unless it's a SUV with third row seating." Mere seconds later my mother says, "Yeah, unless it's a SUV with third row seating." Talk about a moment of clarity. So, this is something that I am constantly trying to improve. The improvement isn't as swift as I would like. Every time some awful thing slips out of my mouth I feel like Luke when Darth Vader cut off his hand. Like one day I'm going to look down and be wearing a god awful black hills gold ring, like my mother, and my nails will be painted some color of peach. Slowly, piece by piece, the dark side is trying to take over my body. I will not let it. I can not. I'LL NEVER JOIN YOU!

mmm...bread

Thank you mel for the yummy bread recipie. I couldn't wait to have some before I took a picture...Does that look about right? cause it sure does taste good :).
mmm...bread 

OnRamp 1-3-05 

It's Snowing Again

Ok, so it's officially snowing here - AGAIN! The good news is that I didn't go to work today. Yipee! It took me 45 minutes to go about 5 miles, and with the 20 mile drive to work, I figure I might as well not even bother. Good thing too because my office closed at noon anyways. Hell, I would have just gotten there. N didn't have to work today either. Yay! 3 day weekend with my sweetie. (xoxoxo) So everyone is enjoying the snow today. Including the cat. Last time it snowed I let her out just to see what she would do - thinking that she'd put one paw in and freak out running back inside. And that's exacty what she did - last weekend anyways. This morning I let her outside to play with the dogs and she was totally into it - scooping snow up with her paws and eating it (I swear to god). Here she is after Fisher attacked her and got her all snowey... Snow Sniffing I love this picture of Fisher. It's the only picture that I have of him so far where he actually has a serious "thinking" face. It's usually the tounge out dumb-dumb face that I capture most often... Seriously Snowing My little Buxley on the other hand always has a serious face, well, unless he's eating pizza. Here he is just after playing and the snow flakes that were on his nose are now little water drops... Snow Melting on My Nose

You're so nice, not like Cinderella's mean old step-mom

It's been 3 days since C went back home to her mom's house. I miss her terribly. I keep the door to her room shut when she's not here because it makes me sad to look in and see books that she loves to be read or her bed that we tuck her into. When her father and I got together, I had high hopes about how everything would work out. I said to myself that I would love C like my own daughter and try to be the best step-mom ever. At first that was a little harder than I thought since I had no idea how to love my own child, let alone someone else's. When C was little, I had a hard time with the amount of attention she demanded from N. Of course, I was only 20, insecure, thought I knew everything about being a parent...(yeahright). N used to let C sleep in our bed, and this drove me nuts. C was an awful sleeper when she was little - I'd wake up throughout the night getting slapped, kicked and eventually there'd be no blankets... Looking back, I wish I would have had more of the mommyness that I do now, because it wouldn't have bothered me as much and I would have taken every opportunity possible to snuggle that little kicking, slapping toddler. I don't remember when it happened exactly, but I fell completely in love with my step daughter. Maybe it was the first time she called me AmberMommy, or the first time she wanted me to rock her to sleep instead of daddy, or the first time I kissed a boo-boo and made it all better, or on the first day of school when she announced at pre-school that she has 2 moms, or the first time she had to go change her clothes so we could "match"... I don't know. One thing is true though little C, YOU have made me the best mom I think I could ever be. She is 7 1/2 and so independent now. She reads well, except for words that she can't sound out in her head like acknowledge or appreciate. If she can't say it right then she won't say it at all...lol. Her favorite color is red. She's bossy when she plays with other kids. She is a snuggle bug. She is particular about how long her jeans are - can't say I blame her with those skinny long legs. She cackles when she laughs. She is so not a morning person. She likes to have her hair braided into "Dorothy" braids (2 braids starting at the nape of her neck) so that her hair will be curly when it dries. She loves school, her favorite subject is math. She can't wait to play volleyball when she's old enough. She worries too much. She's really sensitive and very competitive. She loves having a schedlue and always wants to know who's going to be there, when are we going, what are we going to do... She tells me about the boys she likes to chase on the playground, she tells me her dreams, and which friend of hers said what about who and which kid hurt her feelings at school. I am truly thankful that she trusts me and confides these precious feelings and fears in me. The other day, when she was here, we were cooking chicken and dumplings for dinner. She has been really enthusiasic about helping with the cooking. She stood on a chair, adding the chopped onion, celery, carrots and peas to the pot while I stirred. She turned around and gave me a big squeeze and said "I'm so glad you're my step mom. You're so nice, not like Cinderella's mean old step-mom" I wanted to cry she's so sweet, but she just cracks me up! I'm thankful that C's mom has never said anything bad about N or I to C and we have given the same consideration to her and her husband. That is huge and means so much to me. It hurts so much when she leaves, but I put on a happy face because I don't want to upset her or make her feel like my being upset is her fault in any way. This time N had to fly her back to OR because of the snow and she's too young to go alone. After I dropped them off at the airport Monday morning, all I could think was, dear god, my whole world is on that plane. Please be careful. I suppose that the greatest risk of being a step mom is actually loving your step kids like your own, or in my case how I think I will love my own. The return on that risk is priceless. When N and I got married, the pastor should have just said "Do you Amber, take N and C as your own, to have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you three shall live." I sure do.

OOooo-ZSHyyy-BOoooZSHyy Boo Boo

I confess... I'm an animal baby talker. In addition to talking to the animals in our little voices, the animals also respond. When C was little we never talked "baby talk" to her, ever actually. Which seems odd now because we talk to the animals almost exclusively in baby talk, or rather "doggie talk." Typical conversation with Buxley: Me: OOooo-ZSHyyy-BOoooZSHyy Boo Boo? [translation: Hey Buxley, how are you doing buddy?] Buxley: Lays down, rolls on his side, lifts one leg Me (Buxley):Mommy, you cratch my bellies a little bits? [translation: Mommy, will you scratch my belly a for little while?] Me: I reach down and give Bux a kiss on the nose, scratching under his chin Ohhhh... Oooohh-Zsheee momma Goo-Dah Goo-Dah boy? [translation: Who's mommy's good good boy?] Buxley: grunts/sighs loudly with a little "nnnyyyyarfff" on the end [translation: I know I'm your good boy, now shut up and get on with the belly scratches] --------------------------------------- Typical conversation with Fisher Daddy: Hey Fishna. Sit. Sit. Sit. Lay down! Fisher: stops wiggling and lays down, immediatly sits back up, then scoots back inch by inch untill he's actually sitting where he's supposed to be sitting Daddy (Fisher): Duh Du Du Daddy, I toopid, and I tarded, but Iyze kine-Ah Cooot anywayses. [translation: Daddy, I'm stupid, I'm retarded, but I'm kind of cute anyways] Me: butting in Honey, please don't call him retarded Daddy: Oh, like he knows what we're acutally saying Me: Right. That's why his ears perked up everytime we said "fish" when we played Go Fish with C last week...and anyways, I don't care if he doesn't know. He's not retarded. Yes, he's not exactly smart, but he's very loving. Me: OOooo-ZSHyyy-WOoooZSHyy Wooo Fishna, wanna snausage? [translation: Hi Fisher. Mommy loves you. Do you want a snausage?] Fisher: tongue out, panting, looks up at me, mouth closes, lip caught in tooth, starts sniffing and points to the snausage in my hand. Fisher (Daddy): Mommy, I melling sompetings. I niffing dat snausage. [translation: Mommy, I smell something. I am sniffing that snausage] Fisher: eyes momentarily depart from the sausage and look directly into my eyes [translation: Mommy, Can I please have it? I really really want it. Please Please Please?] Don't try to pretend like you don't do this too...lol.

With Teeth

I am so freaking excited about this. also, props to Mel for making my hyperlinking possible

Top 10 Reasons Why I Want the Snow to Melt

1. My husband is on a plane, returning from returning my step daughter and I really really hope he makes it back tonight without delays
2. Ice, Ice, Baby. da da da da na na nuh....du da da da da na na nuh. Icey roads. -Almost as bad as the remixed heavy metal version of that song.
3. My doggies have to be outside during the day and their paws are cold. (they do have dogloos, but that can't be fun all day) :(
4. The balls of snow that form on my doggies bellies, between thier toes and on their butts if they play in the deep stuff...and when they poop, the poop freezes to the snow balls on thier butts and now they stink and I have to give them a bath
5. Our idiot neighbor who doesn't shovel the snow in front of the community mailbox even though it is a city law that the sidewalks must be shoveled within 24 hours
6. I want a snow day. All of the schools are closed today and tomorrow here. Why can't my work adopt this policy?
7. My triceps hurt. Shoveling icey slushy snow sucks, and I didn't even shovel that much of it. Maybe this is a sign that I should start working out like I always say I'm going to?
8. That crazy bitch with the big hair in the stinky Dodge Diesel truck who kept honking at me today because I wasn't pulling out in front of small cars with no brake control
9. All of the killer ice sickles. They're really starting to freak me out. I mean - couldn't one of those humongous things break off of the freeway overpass and skewer me as I drive under?
10. I can't spell icy, or for that matter type icy with outh saying "icky" in my head. icy icky icy icky icy icky

Snowball Fight!!

A foot of snow this morning, the weatherman says another foot tonight. What a perfect day for a snowball fight! --------------------------------------- We were watching the kids and dogs play. N said that dogs must be the reincarnation of kids. I like the idea of that. :)

Doggies love the snow.

Good for running... Buxley And for sleeping... Fisher

The Halibut

Speaking of embarrasment.... After a long weekend of eating and present opening etc... My mom told us on Sunday morning that they'd like to take us out to lunch. Ok, that's nice of them... So we go to Western Village, a locals Casino, smokey, but good food in the diner... My mom & step dad wanted to gamble a little too.

So we get there. It's a half hour wait to be seated, so they go gamble and N & I take C up to the Arcade. After a few games of race car simulation and pin-ball we meet back up with them. Mom won $31.00 on the nickel slots. They're stoked.

We are finally seated and everyone is figuring out what they want. Mom & step dad each order a Terminator burger (it's a whole pound of beef on a freaking huge bun..mom actually ordered the Jr.), I'm eyeing a hot california chicken sandwich with avocado, and C wants the halibut. Ok, the halibut is on the dinner menu and its's a whopping $13.99, compared to the $6.99 lunch every one else is going to order. After C says that's what she wants, my mom says, "I don't think we should spend the most money on the littlest person here."

Then it hits me...How could I forget how god damn cheap my mother is. I think my step dad is just as cheap, so here we are with a very awkward /embarasing situation.

C is totaly confused. When we (N and I) go out to eat - we go out to eat ... there are no limitations, maybe other than ordering 3 lobsters or something like that... but if it's on the menu - you can have it. And if we are taking someone else out to eat we do just that...take them out. Not worrying about the bill is the point of being taken out, right?? And how many 7 year olds do you know that want halibut - healthy fish instead of the usual burger & fries...!!!

I hate that my mother tried to make C feel like she wasn't worth as much because she was small..grrr... would it be too honest for my mom to just say "We're too cheap to buy something from the dinner menu at a casino, so when we say 'we're going to take you out,' just know that you can't spend more than $6.99" Ugh.

So, I look to N for a little guidance here. He whispers to me, "If they don't want to buy her halibut then they can tell her..." Ok. So we sit, uncomfortaly at best, for a bit and my step dad says to C, "If you want to get the halibut you have to find someone to split it with you, that's just too much food for you." Ok, so that approach was better than mom's, not completely honest, but still terribly cheap.

I wonder if it had been their "real" grand child if they would have denied the halibut. C changes her order to fish & chips and calls it good. At this point, I'm so proud of C for taking it in stride, no pouting or excessive questioning as to why she can't have the halibut.

The waitress takes our orders, nobody orders a drink other than water..I'm sure for fear of going over budget... (rolleyes) We ate. The food was good. N and I thank them for lunch. ********************* Later I talked to C and told her that I was really proud of her for just going along with it. I explained to her that some people don't like to spend a lot of $$ and that they expect you to not order expensive things. She understood, and we left it at that. N didn't think it was neccesary to talk to C about it, but I think that letting awkward situations like that go and not explaining can be confusing and I want C to be able to ask why and understand that it wasn't because she was small, it was because they are cheap. ********************* Anyways, on the ride home from lunch, C was talking about baby names that N and I like. Conrad is a family name from N's side and I like it. Sophia is the girl name we like. So, C starts talking about how she can't wait until Conrad or Sophia is her brother or sister (this is a few years away, btw) and my mom asks what Sophia's middle name would be. C answers "Sophia Rose" pretty right? Rose is N's mom's middle name. My mom looks at me and says, "So, you're not carring on the tradition?" My middle name is the same as my mom's and my grandma's. I have never wanted to carry on "the tradition." No way. I've had a hard enough time trying to detach and rid myself of the controlling tendancies that I inherited from these 2 women, no daughter of mine will bear that name. So, I reply, "Well mom, C is my first daughter and I can't exactly change her middle name now can I?" [big smile on C's face] [mom is obviously dissapointed] oh. god. damn. well. I think we'll be taking C out for some halibut on Thursday.

Who has a normal family?

Having my mother here for Christmas was nice. They are good house guests, not high maintenance, made their own lunch if they were hungry, helped with dishes/cooking. On the whole it was fun.... however there are a few things that I have to say: My family is weird, and I had forgotten just how strange and fun we are. We call things by different names like the vaccum cleaner is the sweeper (this drives N crazy), the remote control is the flipper-dipper (I haven't used this one in a while, but mom reminded me of it this weekend). I had also forgotten some family ettiquite -like when you burp, you're supposed to catch it in your hand and hand it to someone. If so inclined, when recieving a burb, you can put the burp in your pocket for later. And of course it wouldn't be Christmas without some kind of parental inflicted embarrassment... We were eating breakfast, chatting about showers (I forget why) and my mom has to bring up something about "you remember what we had to do in the shower, every single day when you were 12?"... Sounds bad right? lol. So, I cut mom off and gave the story.. "Yes mom, I'll explain. You see, mom wouldn't let me shave my legs untill I had hair in my armpits. [lovely breakfast conversation, I know...thanks mom] So, when I was in the 6th grade we checked every day, and it wasn't untill the summer before Jr. High (7th grade) that I got any..." Lovely. Of course C (my 7 year old step daughter) found this hiliarious. lol. Ok, it really wasn't that embarrasing, but why is that something we need to bring up during breakfast...? or ever?

The Wednesday Toilet

I work in an office comprised mostly of women. There is one ladies bathroom and six stalls. Today, as I walked in to the ladies, I realized that I count the stalls by day of the week, not by number. Monday stall is #1 (closest to the entrance), then Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and at the far end is the Saturday stall. I always choose the Wednesday stall. Why? I don't know really, I guess by process of illimination. (no pun intended) The fat woman at my work uses the Saturday stall. (no one else goes in there other than her, and if possible, no one even enters the bathroom area after 2:00 unless they can hold their breath good) I think that's the only stall she can fit in. The Friday stall is just a little too close to the Saturday stall. The Thursday stall doesn't have a coat holder thingy on the inside of the door. The Tuesday stall seems to be used the most. The Monday stall has really big cracks between the door and the place where the door locks and whoever is washing their hands can see right in. Ok, so that is semi-o.c.d.ish-logical right? But why the weekday toilet naming system? It would make sense if I switched stalls every day of the week...still wouldn't have to use the Saturday stall that way, thank god. --------------------------------------------- While I'm on the subject of toilets...A few months ago I discovered that I had been improperly placing toilet seat covers my entire life. You know how the middle part is cut out, but one end is still attached, so when you punch out the hole, the little paper part hangs down? I had always put the attached side at the front of the seat, ignoring the obvious clues like the mismatched shape of the cover vs. the seat. I remember standing there for a few seconds after placing the seat cover properly for the first time in 25 years... I'm sure the look of discovery on my face rivaled the first time Edison flipped the switch and the lightbulb came on.

Karma is a bitch, or maybe it was the raspberry glasses.

This is one of the best movies I've seen in a long time. So "true" it brings out old memories, and apologies... http://www2.foxsearchlight.com/napoleondynamite/ I'd like to take this opportunity to appologize to a boy named A.J. who asked me to go to a dance with him in the 8th grade. A.J. was short, had thick glasses and was the only 14 year old I ever knew who had a comb over. I think it was english class that we had together. After class one day, he walked up, slicked his hair over with his hand (his part must have started well below the right ear)...all the way over, stuck his hand in his pocket, his eyes firmly fixed on his oversized dirty white velcro sneakers and bravely asked "So, are you going to the dance on Friday?" Looking around to see if anyone "cool" noticed me talking to AJ, I condescendinly answered, "Uh...I dunno." "Do you want to go with me?" he asked. He almost looked up, but not quite. "Um, I don't think so," I said as I turned around, gave a mean *hrmph*/*snort*, and walked off. ------------------------------- I am really sorry about that. My parents didn't even let me go to dances. I could have at least just said that instead taking the opportunity to shoot you down. I mean, who was I after all? I had huge Sally Jesse Raphael raspberry colored glasses, a half grown out home perm, "claw" bangs, and home-made turquoise acid washed jeans on. wtf? Seems like I was exactly your type, but in my little cheerleader wannabe, still in denial about being a band/choir geek mind I was way "cooler" than you. Just know that you were the only boy that asked me to go to a dance that year. Karma is a bitch, or maybe it was the raspberry glasses.

Let the fun begin.

The holidays are officially starting for us. I know I've said that my Christmas shopping is finished several times, but now it really is. I braved the mall yesterday for the last item on my list - a See's Candy gift certificate for grandpa. My BIL's family is coming over tonight for dinner. Prime rib, cranberry horseradish sauce, mashed potatoes, bread, and if they're lucky I might make some kind of vegetable. But really, what's the point of that? ...there's prime rib on the table for a family of carnivores - like anyone really wants sautee'd asaparagus or broccoli... We're going to open presents with them tonight too. :) Tomorrow my mom and step dad are arriving sometime in the evening. My mom has only been to visit once since we bought our house last year and my step dad hasn't been here for a few years. I am excited to see them. My mom is a typical middle aged mom & grandma. She bakes, she works at an office but is taking computer programing classes (go mom!), she makes Christmas candy every year, she has a collection of pig figurines, she compulsively watches TLC because she's re-doing every room in the house, she snorts a little if she gets to laughing really hard, and her despite her semi-controlling nature she really is a great mom. Mom is also a lightweight. One wine cooler and she's a gonner. heh. My step dad is a sports-a-holic, conservative baptist pastor/bull-rider turned barber, father of 6. (yes, I have 5 step sisters and 1 step brother...who thank god, I didn't grow up with...) My mom married him when I was about 16 or 17, I don't remember. He has kind of an odd sense of humor and is always making subtle jokes about stuff that may or may not be appropriate. But, none the less, I'm sure he'll read us something from the bible on Christmas Eve - that's one of their traditions. One of our traditions is to stay up on Christmas Eve until midnight drinking...then open 1 present :) Maybe we'll combine traditions this year. Bible story after dinner, drinks & boardgames until midnight. I think that would be highly appropriate, considering the event we're celebrating... I mean seriously, don't you think that the wisemen each had a flask of something good while riding their camels on the way to the manger, and wasn't Mary probably up late with contractions before Jesus popped out? You know Joseph and the shepherds were probably playing some kind of game, if not drinking too while poor Mary was in labor... Anyways, there is a downer for Christmas this year. My parents will be staying in our guest bedroom where my computer is. I'm going to turn it off while they're here, so I won't be able to go online for 4 freaking days!! Christmas Eve morning we're going to go play up in the snow around lake Tahoe. Christmas Day we're just going to hang around and open presents and eat alot. And then life returns to "normal"...

Alarm

6:00 am -Alarm goes off- [Rolls over, hits snooze, back to snuggling hubbie] 6:09 am -Alarm goes off- [Rolls over, hits snooze, back to snuggling hubbie] 6:18 am -Alarm goes off- [Rolls over, actually looks at the time, hits snooze, back to snuggling hubbie] 6:27 am -Alarm goes off- [Rolls over, looks at the time, hits snooze, half asleep - internal conversation ensues... me: Amber, you really need to get up myself: No I don't me: Seriously, you should get up myself: But it's so warm and snuggley in the bed me: just do it myself: but, but, but... me: Amber, get up myself: but I don't want to me: yes, but you really do need to get up myself: why? me: because if you get up now you might have time to get a Star*bucks before work. myself: c'mon, one more snooze won't matter...just 9 more minutes?? me: NO, god damn it. I want a triple grande 2% carmel macchiato, extra hot and you're going to get your ass out of bed. myself: Faaahhhhck!! 7:58 am -Sitting at desk at work- [So glad I got up in enough time to get my coffee, still wish I was back at home in bed snuggling hubbie]

Merry Christmas

Merry Chrismas  Why does mommy make us do this every year? where is that god damn cat.... Love, Fisher & Buxley

Here kitty kitty kitty

Isn't she sophisticated looking? Macy in all her glory...tubby tummy and all...lol

No God Damn Turtlenecks

So, we ended up going to my husband's company Christmas party last night. I scrambled around yesterday trying to find something suitable to wear on my lunch break. I found an outfit, overpriced of course, but it was the best I could do on such short notice. I get home, take a speedy shower, get dressed, husband walks in the door and says "hmmmph," and then proceeds to rant... "We're going to be late. When we do get there I'm not going to socialize. I hate these parties. There's cat hair on my suit. How much did you pay for drycleaning? The collar on my shirt is frayed... [husband gets into shower] ...I hate these god damn parties. Why did I agree to go? And my wife is going to wear a god damn turtleneck! But of course, I'm the asshole because I could either lie and tell her it looks good or be honest and say what I really think... [I leave the room, go to the guest bedroom scouring for an alternative outfit. Found a black dress that I hadn't considered wearing because it had kind of become my "funeral" dress, put it on, okay, looks sexy with heels, back to the bathroom] ...What are you doing? Oh...I don't think so.....(joking) You're wearing your god damn turtleneck... [eyeroll] (sincere) Honey, you bought it because you like it so wear it.... [It's gettting really steamy in the bathroom now, so I'm starting to sweat, so I go to the bedroom to put on my earrings] ...more ranting, joking, 3rd person monologues... [I put on my earrings, laughing] Husband gets out of shower, more ranting about how I shoudn't have changed...Why do you even want to go to this party? You said that you didn't care, so why do you want to go...??" Me: Because I'm just following your lead honey, I go where you go...And I do care what you think, so yes! I will change if you don't like it. [husband- smirks, walks into the bedroom to get dressed] [me - smirks, walks into kitchen to turn off lights, grateful for an honest husband] The party was lame, getting ready was much more entertaining. Today, I returned my uberglamerous outfit, that honestly would have been uncomfortable, that looked way better when the sales lady was giving me her comments....Oh well, it worked out - a funeral dress, high heels and no god damn turtlenecks.

I've been a good girl this year.

I just finished the rest of my present wrapping. I do love to wrap presents. My mom hates to wrap presents, I don't really know why, but ever since I could, mom had me wrapping everything but my own presents. Buying gifts can be stressfull, but wrapping is relaxing because the decision has already been made. They're getting what is sitting in front of you on the floor waiting to be wrapped. I love that. And now I have an audience watching my present wrapping performance. Macy kitty loves the strings. Curling ribbons is her favorite part - she loves bite them and pull untill the bounce back into the curls. Buxley doggie loves it when I'm wrapping presents because that means he can come in the back room with me and lay under the bed, watching from his favorite hideout. Fisher, sweet Fisher, that loving blank stare in your eyes is so cute. Intently watching the cutting, ears perking up if the paper crinkles...lol. I got all kinds of fun stuff for my girl, she's 7, and N got everything on his Christmas list...and then some. Everyone is so spoiled! My favorite presents to buy are stocking stuffers. I love getting the little odds and ends and funky stuff that "Santa" brought. The last few years we have celebrated the holidays with family, not at home. Both of my parents still have stockings for me, I always buy stocking stuffers for N, my girl, and parents, but only my parents get stuff for me. This year I finished wrapping the stocking stuffers I bought last weekend, and noticed that everyone's stocking is stuffed, but mine. At Ta*rget, I picked up an extra pink nail file for me and that was the only thing in mine :(. So, today I started a new Christmas tradition of stuffing my own stocking. I went out and bought myself a few bottles of Sally Ha*nsen's nail polish, a Sandra Kashuk lip gloss set, a bag of assorted Ghiradelli chocolates, a bath scrubbie thingy :) Oh yes Santa, I've been a very good girl this year. :D

Don't Give the Dog a Bone

Fisher - http://www.dogster.com/pet_page.php?i=45897&j=t So, we give Fisher and Buxley each a bone, and in one gulp Fisher swallows his! omg. Buxley takes his and finds a spot to chew on it. I thought...okay...I'll watch him for a day and then see if there are any weird signs. If we give them bones, which isn't very often, it is supervised and they usually chew on it for a while then I throw it away. (save the don't give a dog a bone posts, because I have a feeling these dogs will never be given bones again) I'm worried. This might be TMI for anyone who's eating & reading..... Last night he puked 3 times. No blood or bone or anything too alarming, but he has never puked that much. Maybe he was trying to get the bone up? He hasn't pooped since he swallowed the bone (1 day ago) and that is a big deal since this dog poops four times a day. We're going to the vet this afternoon at 4:15. I feel so bad. We should have never given him a bone. :(

Truck Gender?

After reading my good friend's scare today with big jacked up trucks, I thought I'd post a funny for you. These ... http://www.nutsfortrucks.com/ Are something that I definitely thought I would have seen in Oregon first, not Nevada. But, since I kind of live on the fringe (i.e. Redneck) part of town, I have the pleasure of being introduced to fun stuff like this. I've seen several jacked-up trucks with these...they even swing as the trucks turn corners. Well, I guess it makes sense. You can get a bra for your vehicle, although there is an actual purpose for that. Maybe the'll start making boobs to put in the bras, what woman would want that though?? Maybe truck tesicles are the white trash equivalent of the rich guy with a small yoo-whoo buying a porsche. Personally, I don't know any women that have ever mentioned being impressed by the size of a man's balls. Gross.

No Grandkids Yet

I just got my parent's mass Christmas mailing with the ever popular family update sheet. I have always hated these things, so impersonal. So, my Dad & step Mom write about their home improvement projects, latest injuries, and of course the status of their children. About my brother it said, "J is still living at home. He's doing great at work, working his way up the corporate ladder". Ok, now do you know any 23 year olds that would be happy about a broadcast that they are working at a seemingly successful job and still living at home???!!! About us it said, "Amber and N bought their first home this year [actually it was last year, but whatever...] and are doing well. No grandkids yet." Now, I'm okay with the buying a first home announcement. It's something that has happened already. It's not something very personal - just one of those "next step" things that married people usually do. I am fucking pissed about the "No Grandkids Yet" comment. So, will that statement be in the update every year until we do have kids?? I realize that their friends and my family probably ask every once and a while, but if we had had a baby we would have told anyone that mattered. Right? I'm 25, N is 28. We've been married 4 years. I decided a long time ago that when we do have kids I will be a SAHM, and if that means waiting 5 more years to have a baby, then so be it. Everyone in my family was insta-preggers within a month of being married, so waiting is such a foreign concept to them. I like where we're at in our life. Yes - I do want to have a baby, just one actually, but we will when we're good and god damn ready to! My brother has been living at home for a while now. He has a serious girlfriend (who is sooo sweet btw, just love her) and she also lives at her parent's house. My dad is incessantly asking about when they're going to get married. Why was there no statement in the family newsletter like "Well, J & M haven't got engaged yet." Oh, right. THAT would not be appropriate. So I'm pissed. We'll see if they ever get grandkids. Maybe we'll have one and just show up one day, baby in tow. Then they could put that in their god damn newsletter.

Skinny Ass

I went Christmas shopping yesterday. At the mall. I've been trying to find an outfit for my husband's work Christmas party. I'm trying to get a job there, so I don't want to dress super sexy, but I love to dress up and company christmas parties are pretty much the married woman's prom. I tried to find a velvet skirt, with no luck. I found a pair of velvet pants at ex*press, bought them, then a few stores later returned them. I considered wearing a corset with the velvet pants. I tried on a few and one looked so good, but then I'd have to go buy a strapless wonderbra from Vicky's. Corset minus cleavage (or any kind of boobage) just doesn't work that well. After 2 hours and still nothing, I decided that I needed a little pick-me-up, so I went to See's Candies for some bordeaux bars (stocking stuffers) and samples. The counter lady was so nice she gave me 2 peanut butter patties and listened to my struggles. She told me about having trouble buying for her 10 year old boy and I offered a few suggestions because my nephew is 10 and I just finished shopping for him. It's so nice to bump into nice people, especialy when they are nice regardless of how frazzed the holidays makes us. So, on my sugar high, I went to Ma*cy's and bought a present for N. He's gonna love it. After that I decided to go back to the G*ap and try on a skirt that I had passed on my first visit there. So, I tried it on, and a few sweaters. Of course I realized - what am I thinking? dancing/drinking in a sweater. I'm going to be sweating like I'm having hot flashes - and at 25 so that would not be so understandable. Can you tell that I work with a bunch of middle age women??lol. I decided that it was just time to go home, watch sur*vivor, make a grilled cheese sandwich and relax. I put down the clothes at that little table by the dressing room, explained that I just didn't like the stuff. (why do they even ask??) If I put it down then I don't want it. pretty clear, right? Anyways, I'm walking out and I see this bertha of a woman walking in. She was just about as wide as she was short and clad in tight jeans and a disgustingly barely there poncho. She was breathing so hard you would think she had been running laps around the mall all day. So, this woman stops no more than 5 feet in front of me, puts her hand on her ginormous thigh, and just stands there, blocking the entire isle. I give her the "okaaaaaay" look and go for a detour. As I turn to walk around the rack she's by to get out, she says "Oh that's right! You BETTAH walk your skinny ass around!" I just about died. I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. No one had ever called me a "skinny ass" before. Thank you Bertha, sometimes I look at myself and don't see a skinny ass, but if you think so, then I think so too.

So much for attention to details...

I'm tired. I went to bed late last night, at the time it seemed like it was still early though. Maybe it was the mudslide that altered my sense of time. So, I went into the living room, turned off the TV I'd left on after watching Sur*vivor, picked up blankets, socks and a wine glass. I locked all of the doors, pausing at the front door to admire our beautiful Christmas tree, with all of the nicely wrapped presents underneath it. I love wrapping presents. I called the boys, our 2 golden retrievers, and proceeded to the bedroom. I de-robed and noticed that I had been wearing my undies inside out all day. I must have smirked or somthing because the dogs were starring at me with their heads cocked to the side. Do they know??? Well, at least they weren't on backwards...

No. I don't eat my hair.

I get annoyed when people say "stop eating your hair" - I'm not eating it god damn it, I'm just playing with it. If you had soft silky straight hair like mine, you would too! I am constantly twiddling my hair with my left hand. Twiddleing it around my finger, touching the soft hair to my lips or face, tying it in knots....while I'm driving, while I'm waiting, while I'm working, while I'm reading, while I'm walking, whenever. Why!!?? I just always have. Maybe it's a nervous/bored habit that I kept from my shy childhood, maybe something to distract people from my big nose lol. Who knows why I started doing it. I could go to a shrink and find out, but would it matter? I wouldn't stop. Maybe I'll just cut all of my hair off, that might stop it. Not all the way, just short to my chin. I have before and I like it like that, my husband likes it short too, but I've been growing it out for the last year and it's a good 4 inches past my shoulders. I can't cut it now - not when I'm so close to that long hair look. Maybe after it grows out, I'll do a drastic cut and donate it to someone who can enjoy twiddling it like I do. :)