Can We Get A Little Color in Here?

Remember WAY back in September when I asked you to pick some paint for our dining room? If you will recall, the winner was #3. However, it was not quite a winner once it made it to the walls. Thereafter, I tried many samples and a variety of things to get it right. It wasn't until I took B's suggestion that we found the perfect color. In fact, I remember standing in line waiting for the sample. As the Home Depot woman put the little fingerprint of paint on the top of the can, I knew it was the perfect color.* Then I immediately said "DAMN HIM and his rightness." Yes, out loud. I thought about pretending that I didn't think the color would work, but I 'fessed up and told B he was brilliant. He likes to hear these things. So, now, the dining room is painted (although not DONE or FINISHED as B would say). In all of its glory, I give you our dining room with #1 from the original post:

The most accurate depiction of the color:

With a little sunlight on it. Well, actually a lot of sunlight:

No light:

Medium light**:

And the other side of the room view:

Thanks again to everyone that voted and gave their opinion. Special shoutout to jlynn who voted for both the #3 that originally went on and the #1 that actually ended up staying on the walls. That girl has talent.

*In case you were wondering, the paint on the wall is called "Glazed Pot" which is exactly what it looks like and greatly limits your ability to describe it:

"It is called Glazed Pot"

"What does it look like?"

"Well, kind of like...a glazed pot. You know like a ceramic pot or pottery that's been glazed? That color."

"Um...oh"

**Yes, I was running out of descriptions for the same photo with slightly different lighting. I am so unoriginal.

The Little B That Could, and Will, and Does...

When I first told you about our new cat Bradford a/k/a Lil' B* back in September, the real B told me that I took crappy pictures. He is right. That little kitten was a bundle of energy and it was hard to capture anything but a blur. However, in the week or two after, I managed to get some good ones. I can hardly believe that was two months ago. My how Brad has grown. These are all pre-growth spurt:

This is when Brad was still living on the back porch in quarantine because of his runny face and lack of shots as he was too young:

A curious kitty:

Naturally, we would do a side-by-side comparison of Brad with the fattest cat. We are mean like that. Although, we did not force Mooch to go through the same thing as Mooch would not come near Brad:

And for length comparison:

Eventually Brad made his way inside and has not left, with the exception of trips to the vet. He prefers the inside now and is still a curious cat. He likes to watch B on the computer:

Looks like they were doing important stuff right there. Brad also found his own mini TV to watch the fish:

He is like a child sitting up so close to the "TV" like that.**

Brad also found his own unique way to drink from the cats' drinking fountain:

He still drinks like that. Drives me crazy. It also makes the water dirty, but I guess the cats don't mind.

This picture is to show you Brad, but to also show you our old oven, the Ropermatic. I say old because we got a new one. I will post about it this week. It was going to be today, but someone forgot to charge her camera:

Look at that face. He looks like a little lion or tiger or other fierce animal:

That's our Lil' B. Now he has been in the house for two months and he is kicking ass and taking names. Those names are Chester and Mooch. For the most part, Brad rules the roost. It is hilarious.

At first we couldn't imagine another cat. Now we could not imagine Brad not being here stirring up trouble and purring in our laps. The perfect little cat family.

We must be nuts.

*I also call him B, Baby B, and Purrball.

**You have to check out this post about my nephew watching football. Too hilarious.

Who Doesn't Like a Side of Stalker with Their Compliments?

Sometimes people like to compliment you. Sometimes people like to sexually assault you. Sometimes the line between the two is awfully blurry.

Take for instance a couple of weeks ago when I stepped on to the elevator. There was already a a man on there. I smiled politely then went to my corner of the elevator.* That is when this occurred:

Man: You look nice.

Me: Thank you.

Man: No VERY nice.

Me: Thank you?

Man: I mean VERY!

Me: Um, okay...

Man: Not just normal nice.

Me: ?

Man: More than average.

{Doors open}

Now, at first, I thought this man was really nice. However, the more intense he got, the more concerned I became. I was not quite sure how to handle it. As we only had two floors to go down, I knew that we wouldn't be in there together long and I did not want to escalate the situation. So I simply smiled and said thank you as many times as I could muster. Once we reached the main floor and the doors opened, he was greeted warmly by the security guard and the janitor. That made me feel a bit better as at least it wasn't a stranger off the street.

After telling that story to a few people, it was mostly forgotten until I was leaving work one day recently and passed by the elevators on my way to the bathroom. That is when I noticed I was walking right by that same man, but on my floor this time. That is when this occurred:

Man: ....Class

Me: You have a class?

Man: No YOU have C-L-A-S-S

Me: Um, okay. Bye.

Look, I am a girl and I like to be complimented. I like to be told I look nice, even VERY nice. And it is nice to be told I have class, whatever that means. However, it is not nice to feel potentially stalked and/or that I am about to be subjected to stranger danger at any minute. So, gentlemen please note - when giving a compliment, be sincere, thoughtful and NOT CREEPY.

Meanwhile, I will be carrying mace.

*It is perfectly acceptable to go to a corner of the elevator if there is just you and another person on there and you are only going a couple of floors. However, if you think that at any time the elevator will be crowded, always stay up front, preferably by the emergency button. Find out why here.

It's Ms Psychic If You're Nasty

I would like you all to know that I am truly psychic. How do I know this, you ask? Well, just this morning I was driving to the office and stumbled upon an old 90s Janet Jackson song. Which one is not important (mainly because I cannot remember). What is important is what I thought at the time, which was:

"I wonder what Janet is up to these days. She is so off and on with her recording and performing. Heck, the last time I saw her perform was after MJ died. She sang his songs SO good. Hmmm...I wonder if there is going to be increased pressure from her now that MJ is dead. Will she have to go around singing his songs all the time? It must be hard to have a sibling die. I wonder how she is doing. Will she ever recover?"

As you can see, I have quite the stream of consciousness. I then thought about the 1,567,823,000 things I had to do at the office and promptly forgot the exchange until JUST NOW when I saw a commercial for Janet's first live interview since MJ's death where they will address what she is doing now, how she is feeling, and what her plans to perform are. And it is on TONIGHT.

I am totally psychic.*

*Please refrain from pointing out that the reason I even heard the Janet Jackson song was because of the interview airing tonight. I can refute that theory with hard evidence.**

**My hard evidence consists of the fact that I was listening to Sirius at the time so there was no pressure to advertise or to conform*** like the regular ol' FM stations.

***Sirius may not conform but it sure does play the same songs over and over. Really. There has to be more than the 100 songs I hear on the 90s channel released in that time period. TEN YEARS PEOPLE. TEN YEARS. FIND A NEW SONG!

Only in Starbucks...Only in Vegas

Recently, one of my blogger friends and frequent commenters, walkingonsunshine, authored a post about the various people one can see in a Starbucks at any given time. Her post seemed very timely to me as I had just been to a few Starbucks and thought the very same thing. There are such a wide range of people in there. Although I am usually in and out, I am tempted to spend part of this weekend just sitting and watching. Last time when passing through, I saw the following people:

- an older couple each reading a different section of the newspaper

- a group of bicyclists complete with safety hats

- a young couple and their baby and the husband's computer

-an older hippy guy saying "One could argue that George Harrison is the greatest..."

-a law student studying at the same back table that I see her at every time. This time someone had interrupted her though.

-a middle aged gentleman reading Twilight

-young girls discussing why they were nauseous - hangover, lack of food, pregnancy

I have also learned that there is drama in every Starbucks around. However, only in Vegas would it involve two people speaking in different languages and one calling the other a liar:

As I am waiting in line for my new favorite drink*, the older couple in front of me takes their tall lattes** and head toward the couch. Right before that, I noticed a newspaper spread across the table. I seem to recall a smallish woman sitting on the chair next to the couch reading it. I only recall this because I remember thinking that I wanted to sit on the couch because it looked so comfy. The older couple takes it naturally. At that point the smallish woman returns and starts throwing out the paper

Man: HEY! You can't do that. I was going to read that.

Woman: Eet eez MINE.

Man: It is not yours.

Man: LIAR

Woman: Ce journal est le mien, vous l'imbécile! Les touristes américains stupides qui ne peuvent pas se permettre leurs propres journaux parce qu'ils gaspillent tout leur jeu d'argent d'argent!***

Man: {grumbles to wife}

Man: How rude can you be to throw out a perfectly good paper? LIAR

The French woman than proceeded to leave muttering in french the entire time. As she passed in front of me (I was facing the casino at a counter) she glared at me and said "Pshaw!" I don't think that is French. In fact, I don't even think that is a word. Isn't that just a sound? Did she just dismiss ME with a sound?

I love Starbucks. I love Vegas.

*Chai Tea Latte - YUM. I find a new drink every season or so.

**I am only this observational in Starbucks. That's a fact.

***I had to use a English to French translator to come up with that translation even though I had four years of French in high school. That is sad. My French teacher is turning in her grave which is interesting because (a) I am not sure she is dead, and (b) that was the example she gave us for accents "Accent grave goes to the left because you have to turn left at the grave." She even drew a cemetery on the chalkboard. Some things you never forget. You win French teacher! You win.

My Vacation Left Me Flushed but Not Full*

We are back from Vegas none the richer. In fact, we may be poorer. However, a good time was had by all.

I am sad to say that despite both of us taking our cameras, no pictures were taken in front of the fountain, or anywhere else for that matter. It was one of those vacations.

Okay, I lied. I had to take a picture of my big "win."

A Royal Flush baby --

Do you know how hard those are to get? REALLY hard. This was on my last night there. Actually, I may have been asleep at the machine when this occurred. I remember thinking "everyone should get one royal flush before they leave Vegas." Apparently I am clairvoyant and should really start working that skill to my advantage more often.

You know what would be really impressive? If I were playing the $1 slots at the time. Or even $.25 slots. Hell, even nickel slots. Where was I?

Oh on the penny slots of course. Hey! $10 is $10. Especially after you had just blown through roughly $345. But who's counting?

I was SO excited when this occurred that I wanted to tell B RIGHT THEN. Alas, I could not. Despite the fact that he was only about 20 feet away from me in the poker room, where I hear they play poker with REAL CARDS and not just a touchscreen like on my beloved machines, I had no way of contacting him because he did not have his phone on him. Remember the oh so organized man? Yep, he didn't bring his phone with him. Forgot it at the house. Remembered when we were too close to the airport to turn back. This required old fashioned scheduling while in Vegas that went a little something like this:

B: Where are you going to be?

Me: On some slots.

B: Which ones?

Me: Poker ones. Penny ones. Somewhere.

Me: I don't know. I DON'T HAVE A PLAN. IT IS VACATION!!!

B: Okay.

B: How about we meet in the room at 1:00?

Me: Oh, did you manage to remember to bring your watch?

B: Not funny.

Me: Oh, but it is.

So, in any event, no phone call about the Royal Flush.

However, after B lost all of his money, he joined me at my machine. The same Royal Flush machine. I excitedly told him how it happened. He longingly looked like he wished he had his own Royal Flush. After a while, I said to him "I wish I could get another one just so you could see." He thought it was because I didn't think he believed me. I just wanted him to experience the joy. Shortly thereafter, he did.

The cards lined up again. I was being WILD and playing 25 hands. The main cards revealed an ace, jack, 10, and king. I just needed the queen and had 25 chances. B said "you are bound to get ONE." I put my hand on his thigh, held my breath and got TWO:

And then I cashed out, $20.00 richer. Well, at least $20.00 less poor.

Now, THAT is a vacation.

*I have NO idea what that title means.

Crime Watch Wednesday: Why Steal Valuables When You Can Just Eat Turkey?

This week's crime watch chronicles comes courtesy of my Mom. Yep, I now have the whole family involved. Mom wants to point out that she has stupid criminals where she lives too. She is right. Take a gander:

A woman was the victim of a hungry thief. Upon arriving home to her apartment, the woman found that someone had entered her apartment and ate some turkey and cheese out of her refrigerator. There were no broken windows. The door was locked at the time. The woman stated that she had lost her keys in the utility room several weeks prior and never changed the locks.

Okay, let's review. You come home to find all the windows and doors locked. The ONLY thing missing is some turkey and some cheese from your fridge. Do you immediately think it was a criminal? Or do you blame your roommate? Perhaps wonder if you ate too much the night before? I am pretty sure that leaving unmarked keys in a utility room is not going to give enough information for the thief to know which apartment you live in. Also, if you lost your keys and did not have your locks changed, how are YOU getting into the apartment?

You know what I think? I think it was the maintenance people. It is always the maintenance people.** I, too, have a similar, but entirely different story related to this one.

One time I lived in this mid rise apartment where my garbage disposal always smelled like something died in it. I used lemons. I used soap. I used special garbage disposal cleaner. Nothing helped. Finally I told the manager she had to do something about it. I was promised something would be done.

One day after that, I came home to my locked apartment on the 12th floor to find my refrigerator unplugged, and a set of tools lying on my kitchen floor. Clearly, the maintenance man had been there and left, without his tools, and without plugging my fridge back in. Your guess is as good as mine as to why he unplugged it in the first place. Regardless, my food was no longer cold and I was steaming mad.

So I storm down to find the manager. The woman proceeds to tell me that there is a new manager that has taken over and gives me his apartment number. Immediately upon him opening the door I angrily wonder why the maintenance people left before completing their job and, more importantly, left all my food to spoil.

Manager: Are you sure it was maintenance?

Me: Am I sure it was maintenance?

Me: I CALLED for maintenance.

Me: There are TOOLS on my kitchen floor.

Me: Who the f*** do you think it was?

Manager: It could have been thieves.

Me: Thieves?

Me: It could have been THIEVES?

Me: What the f*** were they stealing????

Me: And why were they attempting to fix my garbage disposal???

Manager: We have had a bunch of thefts of fire extinguishers lately.

Me: Have you lost your ever loving mind???

Me: HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?

Me: These were not THIEVES.

Me: Tell you maintenance people they have until tomorrow to get their tools or they are mine.

Miraculously the tools were gone when I came home.

The thieves must have been listening.

* I just realized there is no first asterisk. You may now proceed to the second asterisk. Do not stop. Do not collect $200. However, if you have $200, please give it to me. I am in Vegas you know. I am broke.

**My apologies to maintenance people who are not thieves. That is probably almost all of you. You are easy to blame though. So are cleaning people who eat lunches. Except they don't. WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE LUNCH EATERS. Ahem.

***I have a foul mouth. This guy did not. He was scared of me. I liked it that way.

Its a Zoo Out There!

A while back we went to the zoo with B's family. We go every year as part of my father-in-law's work outing. It is a lot of fun. There are bagels, apples, and juice. There are also free items such as squeeze toys, toothbrush, mouse pads and band aids. We all know how I need band aids.

Typically, however, it is either rainy, cold, or both when we go. This year did not disappoint. It rained. It POURED. We stayed anyway and even went around to look at the animals who were actually quite active in all of that rain.

Of course nothing ever goes as smooth as planned either. I was supposed to meet B at the zoo. When I arrived I realized my cell phone was dead. So dead I couldn't call or get messages. I couldn't even text. Have you ever tried to find someone in a torrential downpour? Almost near impossible. Good thing B has eagle eyes and spotted me. I would have spotted him first but he was decked out in heavy duty work clothes (smart guy).

In any event, here are some pictures that were taken on that wet, but fun, day!

This tiger was attempting to come over and kill us. I wish I were kidding:

You are probably thinking to yourself, "Wow! B is such a tolerant husband posing for such a goofy shot." Well, this was ALL B's idea. I think I am a tolerant wife, actually:

The people nearby were cracking up at B posing for that picture. I had a hard time not laughing myself.

Here we were in a tunnel under the polar bears. They were quite active that day too:

And everyone said "OOOHHH" and "AHHHH" and "WHOAAAA" when he stepped on the glass:

And everyone said "HE GOT A FISH" when he, well, got a fish:

And everyone said "How cute, he is sitting down eating his lunch." Bet the fish didn't think it was cute.

Lucas was the only one totally prepared for the day. However, he did not stay in there very long. I think he felt like a bubble boy or something:

Lucas and his Dad put their hands on the snow/ice to make hand prints. Lucas is such a brave boy. I don't even put my hands on there. However, we all know my hands are like ice this time of the year anyway:

And just like the home tour, there is B - WAY ahead of me. Always so busy with places to go:

Until next year where I will make B pose with the live tiger...

Of Course I Meant to Put That There...

B likes to think he is much more organized than I am. Having seen my magazine stash, and the messiness of my home office, you may agree. However, I typically can find anything I need. B, on the other hand, well...

B: Where is the cat brush?

Me: I don't know. Where did you put it?

B: Somewhere I wouldn't forget.

Me: Obviously.

Me: Check the shelf.

B: Not there.

Me: Check the drawer.

B: Not there.

Me: And you call me unorganized.

B: I could find if I needed to.

Me: Um, aren't you kind of needing to now?

B never did find the cat brush. I did. Know where I found it? On the floor of the spare room BEHIND a box BEHIND our entertainment center.

Clearly, somewhere he would not forget.

Why Can't You Set Your Monkey Free?

A couple of months ago, when my Mom and I took a roadtrip to see some family, we also got to see performance art for the elderly. At least by the elderly. At first I thought their coordinated dancing was cute:

Right after the above, the man smacked the woman's ass. I wish I were kidding.

Then, however, I came to find out that it was all an act. Of course, I could tell that it was choreographed. However, I did not know that they came out and did the SAME dance EVERY weekend. Nor did I know that there would be costume changes:

Right after that above picture was taken my uncle turned to my Dad who was playing with a child's toy from the gift shop, and said:

If you put you hand in that puppet, that lady over there will grab her monkey.

Little did we know he was not kidding:

The moral of the story? I like spontaneous, well choreographed, dancing elderly people. I do not like well choreographed, dancing elderly people that appear "spontaneously" every weekend and who have costumes and puppets.

Especially those that are really not good ventriloquists.

Actually I don't like puppets or ventriloquists.

Neither does B.

That's why we are in love.

*Bonus points to those that know where the title of the post comes from.

I'm on Vacation Bitches!

I so wanted to scream that out when I left the office on Friday evening. Of course, since it was Friday evening (7 pm to be exact), there was no one else there. Kind of loses the whole effect, don't you think?

Regardless, it is true. We are leaving for vacation tomorrow and headed to Sin City. It is our go-to vacation. When B and I started dating we got into a routine as to vacations due to our work schedules. The routine involved a vacation in October/November and then another in February or March. If my memory serves me correctly, the first one was to Vegas. I wasn't so sure about that as a destination, but B talked me into it. Little did I know that inside me lives a secret slot jockey. B could barely tear me away.

So, naturally, when we decided against a big wedding and when we started thinking about destination weddings, it was Vegas. And so we got married there 2 1/2 years ago.

A picture of us in front of the Bellagio fountains:

You wouldn't know it from that picture, but we were crowded by about a million people. The only way we were able to get up to the banister was to promise two ladies we would take our picture and hustle out of there. In exchange, they decided to become the "wedding dress protectors" and screamed at everyone to STAY AWAY FROM HER DRESS. They showed so much enthusiasm that I didn't bother to tell them the bottom was completely trashed anyway. As a matter of fact, I still think there is a bug stuck to it. Well, at least its skeletal remains that is.

How about a GQ pose of us:

That was about the 150th picture my brother took. He was trying to get one with the fountains going off just right. Why? Because naturally we got engaged in front of those very fountains the November prior:

The above is what happens when you let complete strangers take your picture. I swear I did not add any effects. At least half of B's face is preserved for history.

So off we go back to our city, not as an engaged couple, not as a married couple, and not on a family trip.* Just the two of us - B the poker stud and, I, the slot jockey.

Miss me bitches!** I will miss you.

*That family trip was pretty awesome. Read all about it here.

**Or bastards if you prefer. For you non-swearers, it will be bunnies.***

***That is an inside joke I have with...myself. Yep, I need a vacation.

****My profile picture is also from my wedding. I am laughing in it because right before I had to leave the dressing room my phone went off telling me I had an appointment - to get married. I apparently set it while in Vegas in November when we picked the date and forgot about it.

*****Some posts will be posted throughout the week, all written in advance and probably completely random. They will not, however, have 5 sets of asterisks.