Is That a Long Tube of Cotton Sticking Out of Your Ear?

The other day B picked up a small box I had received in the mail, held it to his ear, shook it and said "What do we have here?" in a weird British accent. I said "Tampons." He put them down and said "Whelp, I wont be needing those."

I hope not.

But if he does? I have PLENTY. You know my little obsession with buying bargains/deals? Well, when I wasn't looking, I apparently bought an entire store of tampons. I seriously keep finding them everywhere. I could supply a whole village. Well, if they only all just used one which would be weird. You get my point.

Instead of supplying a village, I decided to come up with some creative uses for my abundance of product. In no particular order:

Wine stoppers (who wants to come party with us now?)

Drain clogs

Upside down hanging ghosts (perfect for Halloween!)

Tie to a stick for a cat toy

Use as a newfangled way to "drink" vodka

Use as earplugs when the cats won't stop hissing, yelling and crying (like now)

Use as a newfangled way to get the cats to drink vodka so they will be quiet

The options truly are endless.

This picture was taken by my Mom's house. How fun are those fall decorations?

*This insane post is brought to you by too many hours at the office and not enough hours in the bed. At this time I would like to thank my sponsor, i.e. the law firm. I couldn't have done this without you. Cheers!

Crime Watch Wednesday: Some Like It Hot

This week's crime watch chronicles highlights our town's finest performing their duties for this town's dumbest:

Police were called for a possible LOS. (That's Left On Stove for all of you non-policemen out there). A woman on her way home from the bar called to say she thought she might have left the stove on and wanted the police to check it out. Despite the insanity of her request and despite the fact that HOURS had passed since she left the stove on, the police responded to the call. An officer was dispatched to the home. Upon an inspection through a window, and having seen (a) the house still standing, and (b) no smoke or flames, the officer CALLED the lady back and gave her the update.

You see, I don't believe this was part of the "Getting to Know Your Neighborhood" package we received when we first moved in. How was I supposed to know that you could contact the police to check to see if you left your stove on? Or that the police would kindly call you back while you are on your way back from the bar so you wouldn't have to fret and could concentrate on attempting to drive sober although you are really wasted. The police better hope we do not have a large closed head/traumatic brain injury population or they will never have a moment's peace. They are known for leaving stoves on left and right.*

Speaking of which, I could have used their assistance on more than one occasion recently, the police that is. If you will recall, the stove that came with our house is from 1952 - the Ropermatic. It is a gas stove with a gas leak. We only just recently replaced it. Safety first, people! Or, in our case, like fourteenth. Anyway, before replacing it, there was quite the procedure to ensure we were not being infused with noxious gas on a regular basis. First, the gas had to be turned off after every use. The routine would be turn gas on, light the burner (Yes you had to manually light it! Hello - it is 1952 in our kitchen! You also had to wear an apron and heels. B looked so cute). When you were done you were supposed to turn the gas off first so that you could see all the flame went out before you turned off the burner, thus making sure no extra gas escaped. Sound easy? Maybe it was, but really not the point. There has been more than one occasion in which I did not comply with said rules.

One day B came home and asked me to come downstairs. I was super excited thinking he had brought me a present. For being wonderful, you know.

B: Come down here.

Me: YAY! Presents {insert clapping}

B: What? Just come down here.

Me: Well, I don't like the tone your voice has taken.

Upon arriving downstairs:

B: Notice anything unusual around here?

Me: {looking around} Well, I don't see any presents, that's for sure!

B: Why would there be presents?

Me: The real question is why AREN'T there presents?

B: DO YOU SEE ANYTHING UNUSUAL AROUND HERE?????

Me: no.

B: Really? NOTHING?

Me: um, NO.

Apparently I was completely oblivious to the burner that was STILL BURNING on the stove. Flames and everything.** I told B it had only been on for 5 minutes, but really it was 15. I am sure B thinks it was 30.

Do you think the police would come if I called them from upstairs to see if the stove was on?

"The call is coming from INSIDE THE HOUSE"***

*I may have a brain injury.

**Then there was the time I just left the gas on but turned off the burner. B accused me of trying to kill him. Good thing he doesn't smoke...

***Can you name that scary movie during this Halloween week?

****I write about fire a lot, don't I?

Feline of the Corn

Does your cat eat half a thing of corn bread that you left on top of the microwave that was in a sealed package?

Does your cat CONTINUE to eat the corn bread even when you say "HEY - what are you doing?"

Does your cat STILL eat the corn bread even after you yell "ARE YOU F'ING KIDDING ME"?

Does your cat not even flinch when you come at him with the Dustbuster to clean up the corn bread pieces strewn all around the dining room?

Does your cat come crying to you later attempting to make you believe he is starving despite the fact that he JUST ATE CORN BREAD?

If so, congrats, you have a Chester.

And here I thought it was strange when he ate a tomato.*

*One time I left a tomato on our counter at the condo and woke up to see tiny little bite marks in it. Those cats will eat anything!

A Deal is Made and No One is The Wiser

No one was around when the stranger quietly approached me with an earnest look on her face:

Girl: Do you have any extra?

Me: I may have a few. How many do you need? One, two...?

I was hoping it wasn't more than that. I was very protective of my stash.

Girl: Just one.

Girl: I can't get my hands on any.

Me: What value do you have there?

Girl: Seventeen.

Me: I have just what you need.

Girl: Are you sure?

Me: Trust me.

With a slight flick of my wrist, a transfer was made. I commented about how it seemed so shady. We were whispering after all. She laughed heartily and said "I won't tell, if you don't."

I then steered my cart toward the bakeware while I pondered how many 20% off coupons I would need for my purchase.

Fall Has Finally Come and the Colors Are Gorgeous!

Last year we did not have much in the way of fall. It was summer one day and 12 hours later winter had blown in and had taken all of the leaves from the trees with it. This year is different though. With the up and down temperatures, we actually have some color. Friday as I was driving home, I realized how much had changed over night and snapped a few photos.

I love the little red bush in the corner of their front yard:

The view from our porch:

And the other side:

Down our street:

The corner of our house and the trees behind us:

The tree in front of our house and our neighbor's trees:

Down the other side of the street:

Same view, my camera just colored it differently:

And a wider view:

Again, the camera colored it differently. This one is my favorite as it feels like fall:

Upstairs view of the backyard and trees behind us:

And the other side and the trees you caught a glimpse of when looking at the corner of our house:

Do you have any fall colors where you are? I cannot get enough of this!

Flashback Friday: The Dating Blues

Recently a woman went on the date of her life. Not in a good way, however. You see, at the end of the date, the guy asked for her car keys because he forgot his wallet and he took off with her car. Carjacked, robbed and stood up all on the same date. Isn't that something? It was the talk of all of the radio stations around here and the DJs asked for callers to give their best "worst date" story. That is when I remembered this:

Flash back about 6 years ago. I was headed out of town to a legal conference with my boss. You will remember him from here. Anyway, at these conferences, vendors would wine and dine us. This time was no exception. One of the vendors set up a dinner and conference at the House of Blues. Sounded like it would be a fantastic time. My boss thought it would be better if I had a date. I really didn't care one way or another, but didn't mind a little adventure. So he called an attorney who he knew in that city and arranged for one of his associates to accompany me to the dinner and a show. We talked before I headed out of town and he seemed normal enough. He was an attorney - meh, but other than that all was well.

On the night of the dinner, many of the attendees and the vendors knew about this setup so all I hoped is that it would not be awkward*. Soon enough he showed up, we found each other and proceeded on our "date." He was nice enough, average looking. During dinner we had some conversation, but mostly it was group conversation. It was a really nice dinner - steak, seafood, appetizers. I recall at the time the talk around the table was about The Passion of the Christ as it had just came out. My date was Jewish. However, I did not sense any uneasiness on his behalf.

Around 10:30 or so, we all headed down to see the concert. I grabbed us a table with some of the other attendees. Then my date said he had to go to the bathroom and would be right back. After he left, I turned to say something to one of the guys at the table when I realized:

...he took his jacket with him...

...to the bathroom...

that man was NOT coming back. I was flabbergasted. Heck, if he wanted to leave, all he had to do was say it was late, he had work, fake a phone call, yawn a lot, but to PRETEND to go to the bathroom never to return? This was an adult!

So I tell the guy at the table what I suspect to be true. Then the vendor host walks by and asks where my date is, so I tell her too. They assure me he will return. No. Nobody takes the coat with them to the bathroom.

He never returned.

I got stood up in the MIDDLE of the date. Classic.

The next day I told my boss who promptly asked what I had did to cause such a thing to occur. Right, because I totally deserved to be left in the House of Blues like that.

I stood my boss up for dinner that night.

What comes around goes around.

*Right now, B is reading this and saying OCKward. He thinks that is how I pronounce it. Now I insist on only pronouncing it with a British accent.

Who Needs a Proctologist When You Have a Cat?

The other night Mooch slept under the covers with B and I. In the middle of the night I got up to lock Chester out due to his crying. Apparently I startled the sleeping Mooch who jumped and stuck his paw up B's ass. In the words of B:

"Good thing I was wearing shorts, otherwise his paw might still be in there."

I think Mooch was just paying him back for this:

Lesson: Don't turn your back, or your ass, on a sleeping cat.*

*Especially if your idea of a good time is forcing said cat to take pictures in various poses that amuse you greatly but just piss the cat off.**

**See above.

Crime Watch Wednesday: Take a Bite Out of This!

This week's crime watch chronicles bring us the tale of the utility worker who couldn't run fast enough:

A utility worker was bitten by a large dog while performing his job. The worker was approached by the dog in the driveway of a home. When the dog didn't like the worker's reason for being there, he bit him. The owner of the house, home at the time, refused to respond to the worker's screams for help. Luckily a nearby neighbor came to the rescue with peroxide and a bandage. Sadly, the neighbor did not have a rabies kit nearby. When questioned by the police, the homeowner claimed that it was not his dog and he did not believe the dog had actually bit the man and the dog was on a leash at the time. The police witnessed two puncture wounds on the worker. The police also noted that the dog was on a very long leash that allowed the dog to walk down the driveway and approach those in the neighborhood. Charges are pending against the dog for assault and battery and against the homeowner for being a bad neighbor.

Hmm...maybe I made that last part up? The point is, your dog, or the dog you were watching, BIT someone. The dog punctured the man's skin while roaming on its very long leash down the driveway. The least you could do is offer some assistance to the man. I know you are afraid of being sued, but pretending it didn't happen isn't going to make it go away.

When I was a young teen we had a crazy dog aptly named Bandit*. This dog was NUTS. She would climb, not jump, but CLIMB our chain link fence to get out and run the neighborhood. Her favorite things to do? Chase cars. And not just like in the cartoons. She would chase a car, get IN FRONT OF IT, make it stop and try to bite its bumper. I cannot tell you how many times in my life I spent chasing that dog. In a car. That's right. She would only come back to you if you drove by, she chased you, stopped you, you opened your door and then she jumped in happy as a clam.** Despite her insanity, she loved everyone (except the Rottweilers across the street and small kittens or puppies) and never bit anyone.

Until she bit someone, that is.

At that time Bandit was older and couldn't really jump or climb the fence. She really didn't have the energy to chase cars either. Thus, she was able to spend more time in the backyard without our fearing we would need to grab our car keys at any minute. There was a young boy next door that would pet her and talk to her and she would lick him. One day, we decided to put Bandit on a leash in the front yard while we were on the porch. Like the owner above, it was rather a long leash but it did not extend past our front grass. At the time, I was on the porch. The young boy from next door ran past Bandit and screamed a little "you can't catch me" song and Bandit caught him. And bit him. She was old and cranky.

Now, unlike the guy above, I did not deny what happened. I jumped up, made sure the boy was okay (he had a scratch and no puncture wounds), went and got his mom and explained what happened and apologized. All was well. We did not get sued, Bandit's leash got shorter, and our neighbors still liked us.

Lesson: Apologies, peroxide and a bandage go a long way.

Denial fools no one but yourself.***

*When my Dad first told me we were getting a dog, I wanted to name her Scruffles. I was 13. Too old to have thought that shit was cute. Lucky for Bandit, she looked like a bandit. Lucky for me too as I cannot imagine running through the neighborhood yelling SCRUFFLES.

**This was not good because Bandit would get into anyone's car that opened their door. One day I was chasing her and someone tried to take her. Sometimes I wonder if I should have just let them. They had no clue what they were getting into. RIP Bandit.

***I am so deep and profound. I also sound like a fortune cookie. One of those bad ones that tell you proverbs but not your FORTUNE. Grrr.

Things I Learned Today and Other News...

Well, those of you that follow me on Google Reader just got a surprise post that was a bunch of crap and incomplete sentences. Now YOU learned something today. Yes, I email myself half completed thoughts and sentences and then I spin brilliance from those words. And by "brilliance," I mean the following:

Here is a brief synopsis of my day, what I encountered and what valuable things I learned that I need to pass on to you if you are going to make it in this world:

~Yellow cupcakes with rich chocolate frosting makes 9 am at the office on a Monday 1000% times better.

~Squealing like a little girl, clapping your hands and declaring it the "best Monday EVER" because of said cupcake makes the chance of a huge raise 1000% less likely.

~Men exiting their cars at truck stops will burp. Loudly. Said men may then look at you to inquire as to whether (a) you heard that and (b) if you think it is sexy. I prefer to deny both.

~Truck stops that look like a Trader Joe's inside equals my idea of high class peeing on the road. It may even tempt me to buy a scratch-off lottery ticket and dream of being a millionaire to spend all of my time in Trader Joe's.

~Having an abundance of scratch off tickets in your purse while being searched at the courthouse will cause the officer to give you a crazy look somewhere between "we are all normal and one" and "you are one of THOSE crazy people." Then the officer will say "I hope you are not one of those crazy people that scratch these right there in the store" thereby securing the fact that he thought of you as the latter and not the former. You decide now is not the time to point out that you are not that person since the lottery tickets are NOT SCRATCHED. Oh and why are you still hand searching purses in this century? Haven't you heard of xray machines? All the cool courts have them.

~If you are at a bowling alley bowling with small children and have the chance to partake in bumper bowling - beware! If the bumper becomes dislodged DO NOT attempt to fix it yourself. It could result in a severed pinkie finger. At least it did in the court case today. Do you really want to have to file a lawsuit for your missing finger and gross me out in the process? Let the pros do that. And by pros I mean the 20 year old boys they pay $6.00 an hour to rack shoes. They obviously know what they are doing.

~A cupcake, truck stop, lotto ticket, severed finger and burping man already makes this week better than last week when I got someone fired* and made someone cry** all in the span of 5 days.

~Fall is here. Actually, it feels like winter, but I do like the colors:

Yes, I take terrible pictures while driving. What do you expect? I am supposed to be DRIVING.

This one was better. I love red trees. And red bushes. B - you need to get on that. Thanks.

~If you want your Halloween decorations to freak me out, do not put up a skeleton, or the grim reaper, or a witch, or Jason or Freddy. Just put up a normal scarecrow but HAVE HIM TURN AWAY FROM ME:

Blair Witch anyone?

So disturbing.

*I did not, in fact, get anyone fired. Yet I got blamed for it.

**I did not, in fact, make anyone cry. I also got blamed for that. Two for two!

Rainbow Living in our Dining Room

Some of you may recall that a while back we gave everyone a chance to vote on the color of our dining room. Some of you were quite excited that your pick was chosen. Those some of you are going to be disappointed.

The color we chose, as seen here, just did not look right in the room. It was too dark. Too red. Too orange. Not right.

So we tried a new color.

And another.

And another.

Until we finally found one we liked.

We* still haven't painted though.

Below is the original color we picked and then some heinous orange color I thought might work:

And this is where we ended up - the original color, two orange colors, a purple color, and then the winner. You can see the winner has an arrow next to it thanks to B:

I would call it a more caramel orange color, if such thing existed. Meanwhile, B saw an ad for a mirror and decided to see how it would look on our dining room wall:

Verdict: too small.

Then B decided to take some artistic license and decorate further:

See, Jenny, Lucas is not the only left-handed artist in the family.

*Although everyone knows by now, I must insert this disclaimer - when I say "we" in a sentence with painting, "we" is actually just B. Except for the time I painted the little toilet room in the basement. No, it is not a bathroom. There is no bath. There is no sink. It is just a toilet. There are also three litter boxes. Toilet room indeed.

Halloween Came a Little Early

As we did last year, this past weekend we went on our family trip for an old time Halloween trick or treat walk. Unlike last year, B did not trip me on the bridge. I consider that a success. This year, our nephew L dressed like a dragon. A SCARY dragon:

Yes, he basically spent the entire trip staring in awe from the wagon while eating an apple. I think he was just trying to take it all in.

And in typical B fashion, he tried to snap millions of candids of me. I decided to return the favor. We have a lot of photos like this:

and this:

My favorite part of the walk however was the scarecrows. We knew from last year that there were three scarecrows and one of them was a real person that would scare whomever took a picture by it. This one was fake:

This one was real:

That is my brother-in-law and B's cousin's boy running from the scarecrow. My BIL convinced poor G to have his picture taken knowing that scarecrow was real. If you want to see the before picture, head over to my SIL Jenny's blog.* Speaking of Jenny, here is a great family shot by a huge thing of carved pumpkins:

Look how cool and spooky they are without a flash:

It was a really fun time especially since B's cousin was there and her kids all dressed up. Alas, we didn't play any cruel jokes on the people around us by claiming that our baby was missing upon exiting the bridge. However, the bridge was extra spooky his year because it had crazy lighting in there. That may be why B didn't trip me; he was distracted.

Happy Almost Halloween!

*You can also see more pictures of L and his skeleton pjs!

Crime Watch Wednesday: Fanning the Flame of Friendship

This week's Crime Watch Chronicles brings us the story of a friendship gone bad and a crime that didn't quite take:

A former friend was found to be a suspect in an attempted arson. A woman came home to find a small puddle of liquid, thought to be lighter fluid, and a burned cigarette under the front tire of her vehicle. Around that same time the woman received a text message from her former friend, who had been harassing her and threatening her for weeks, that read:

"I tried to light on fire ur shit"

Yes, yes you did. You tried to light on fire the woman's shit. But you didn't. You know what else you did? You ADMITTED TO A CRIME. And you did so via a poorly worded text message. That is traceable to your phone number. Apparently, also the phone number used to harass and threaten this same woman for weeks. Now the police are asking for any additional information, but the truth is? They have all of the information they need. They have:

• your name
• your phone number
• your CONFESSION

You didn't start the fire, babe, but you are still going to get burned.

Case closed.

On a side note, who the hell attempts to start a fire, fails, and then announces the ridiculous attempt to their enemy. That would be like firing an arrow at a person while standing behind a tree and then after missing jumping out and yelling "I tried to shoot this arrow through your heart."

No shit, but you didn't.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game...Listen to Me Complain

Well it is no wonder that B doesn't take me to the ball game* too often. First, as you know, I don't really follow sports. Second, I like to discuss what is going on around us, not necessarily what is happening in the game. Third, when I do decide to discuss what is going on in the game, I quickly become an "expert" much to the amusement and/or frustration of B. Here is a prime example:

[Scene: Baseball game around the 5th inning]

Me: Oh GREAT, Smith is up to bat? We are SCREWED.

B: Like you even know what you are talking about!

Me: Oh, I don't know? I DON'T KNOW?

Me: You know he is just going to hit it up and to the left like he does EVERY.SINGLE.TIME and then he will foul out, or whatever it is called, and then all of these men on all of the bases out there? WASTED.

Me: Yes, Smith, you will be WASTING ALL OF THOSE HITS!

Me: I mean, really. Look at his stats - they are AWFUL.

B: You don't know what you are talking about.

Me: Really? Why are his RBIs so low? Huh?

B: They are low.

Me: What are RBIs anyway?

B: {sigh}

*****

[Scene: Later in the same inning]

Me: Now THAT guy has GREAT stats.

B: HE IS ON THE OTHER TEAM.

Me: Huh.

Me: We are SCREWED.

You know what is fun though? When the guy in your row decides to walk down in front of you for the second time and then stop RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE and say "maybe I should have gone the other way" while doing some weird back and forth maneuver RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE that prompts your spouse to say "nice of him to wave his junk in your face" and you to say "thank God he is wearing pants" and thinking what you really wanted to say to the guy was "HEY, I think you left your penis on my face."

Finally, no baseball game is complete unless it is at or below 50 degrees. Seriously, the last three games we went to in different months? FREEZING. Here is photographic evidence:

Yes, I am wearing a sweatshirt AND a fleece AND gloves AND drinking a hot chocolate. You will also notice there is no one around me. That is because they were smart and stayed home and watched it on TV with their heat on.

I love sports.

*Or a football game. Or a basketball game. I am a bit better with hockey. A bit.

Tales from the Courthouse: Pursuing Justice with Grace

The other day I had to go to court on some motion hearings, three to be exact. That is a lot of courtrooms to run between. Luckily, one of my colleagues was there and took pity on me and did one of my hearings for me. He still got out of there well before I did. That was in large part because all three news channels were in my courtroom. Naturally, I was in the hall when that hearing occurred and missed being on TV, but I did get to witness the post hearing interview in the hall. It was a ridiculous law suit, filed on a decades old law that has since been overruled by subsequent law, to which the attorney claimed he would appeal. And he was wearing floods. Nothing like being on TV with too short pants.

In any event, as I was waiting and watching, I thought of all the things that I could post about my trip to the courthouse. I truly thought that the highlight of the day would be the guy next to me that screamed at his associate for a good 15 minutes about a brief using every swear word you can imagine and ending with:

"He had a finger stuck up his ASS? Does that sound consensual?"

No, it really doesn't does it? Well, although quite entertaining, that was not the highlight of my trip.

The highlight would be when I FELL on my HANDS AND KNEES.

IN THE STREET.

In front of an oncoming car and in front of at least 10 people, only 1 of whom asked me if I was okay.

And thereby SKINNED my one knee and bruised the other knee and also skinned my palm (but did not drop my phone - um...yay?).

At the time I did not know about the skinned knee and bruised knee although I suspected it from the pain. After telling the ONE person that asked if I was okay that I was, and after quickly getting up to make sure I wouldn't get hit by the car, I just casually walked to the parking structure like nothing had happened.

It was only as I was changing into the pair of jeans I luckily had thrown into my car that I realized the damage I had done.

That was over two weeks ago.

My left knee is still horribly bruised.

My right knee still shows evidence of being scraped.

And my pride? It is still lying in the street with pieces of my skin.

Hay! Can You Stalk My Pumpkins?

Sure, B thought his giant pumpkins were great. However, B had bigger plans for our yard. His plans involved going to the cider mill* and then finding some hay and some corn stalks. After all, what is a giant pumpkin patch in your yard without hay and corn stalks?

So we set off on our journey and went to the cider mill with B's sister and husband and our nephew, L. Turns out L likes pumpkins just as much as B. And since he is still small, they all look giant to him. Bet he ends up growing big pumpkins in his future.

After eating too many donuts and drinking cider and feeling pumpkins, B and I set off to find the perfect hay and cornstalks. Rather, the only hay and cornstalks. We only found two places - one that sold hay and one that sold cornstalks. That was good enough for B's master design. Take a gander:

B says the key to designing is to always work in 3s. Hence the 3 pumpkins on our stairs.

And the two pumpkins and one hay bale in the corner.

And the 1 pumpkin, 1 hay bale and 1 cornstalk by the tree.

B also bought this nifty fall corn bundle to hang on our door.

And little pumpkins for my desk! We only bought one but the guy selling them threw in 2 for free. He must subscribe to the B plan of 3s.

I was so excited about our fall display, but do you know that not ONE neighbor has commented on it? WTF? All summer I had to sit and listen to people talk about the house next door:

"oh, nice flowers"

"I love your shrubs"

"how did you cut your lawn with those lines"

"you built that garage from scratch?"

Yet, no one can be bothered to comment on our pumpkins aside from some girls that B may have scared off? It is not like people don't walk down our street EVERY DAY. Or drive down it. Yes, people would STOP THEIR CAR to say those things to our neighbor.

Okay, it is not a competition.

And I am not bitter.

But it is and I am.

*Somebody forgot to charge her camera before going to the cider mill. Sadly, that leaves you without a picture of me looking like a scarecrow while holding three corn stalks.

**I know you like what I did with that title there, I incorporated 3 of the major themes of these photos. B would be so proud.