Riddle Me This...

Crime Watch Wednesday: The One Where I Am the Victim. Or the Perp?

2009-12-09T07:00:00.006-05:00

Our Halloween night held more excitement than just passing out candy. While we were waiting for B's sister, brother-in-law and our nephew to come over for dinner and trick-or-treating, I noticed a police car pull around the corner, drive slowly up to the neighbor's house across the street and stop. Being ever mindful of B's constant need to know everything happening in the 'hood, I shouted out:

Me: The cops are at the old lady across the street's house!

B: What are they doing there?

Me: I don't know.

So I sat down on our couch in front of our big picture window and watched, trying to determine what was going on while petting Lil' B and giving the original B a blow-by-blow:

Me: She came to the door.

Me: She is letting him in.

Me: Only one cop.

Me: He is still in there.

Me: This is boring.

B joined me at the window and then we saw the neighbors next door to the old lady head over. B dropped to the floor like he was dodging bombs in Band of Brothers while exclaiming "Now they can only see YOU - the nosy one." Um, okay. Who wouldn't be nosy when there are cops at their neighbor's house? Also, B would be the first one to lecture me on why I did not find out what was going on when there were POLICE ON OUR STREET. This may have happened once or twice before.

The neighbors are only there for a few minutes before they walk back to their house. I conclude nothing is happening and this is really boring when my phone rings. Figuring it is my SIL, I head over there, pick it up to see "private number." The following conversation happens:

Me: Hello?

Voice: Is this Dani?

Me: Yes....

Voice: This is, um, Officer Somebody from, um, your town's, um, public safety department.

Voice: We, um, found a package belonging to you.

Voice: Um, if you tell me your address I will bring it over.

At this point in time I am thinking that it is my friend E playing a joke on me. He does that. Really, the guy sounded unsure of what he was saying and what he was saying was making absolutely no sense to me.

Me: If you have a package for me, wouldn't it say my address on it?*

Voice: Well, the thing is it is difficult to read your address.

Me: Where did you find this package?

Voice: One of our residents found it.

Ding! I swear a light bulb went off in my head.

Me: Are you at the resident's house right now? [said in a long drawn out horror movie kind of way]

Voice: Maybe?

Me: I AM RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET FROM YOU. I CAN SEE YOU RIGHT NOW.

Voice: Oh.

Me: I am coming over.

And so it came to be that my neighbor across the street had one of my packages delivered to her because the number for the address was one number off. Then she called the public safety department because she did not recognize my name and didn't know what the package contained.

And so I walked across the street, to be introduced to my neighbor whom I had never met before, gave the officer my complete name and birth date for HIS REPORT** and then carried my big box back home.

And so I heard the police officer tell another inquiring neighbor "Oh, nothing. Just a misdelivered box."

And how did the officer know where to find me to inquire about said box? MY PHONE NUMBER WAS WRITTEN RIGHT ON IT. Why my neighbor could not have just called me, I will never know. Also? Ten bucks says she forgets who I am by the time this happens again. This will surely happen again.

Victim or perp? You decide.

*You cannot dodge an attorney. We have a knack for stating and asking the obvious.

**Can you believe this did NOT show up in the town's crime watch chronicles? Now, techinically this wasn't a crime, but it is a little disheartening to read a story in the crime watch about a racoon stuck in the basement window that was freed with a dog catcher hook and released to the backyard shrubs and not this story. Come on! It could have a catchy title and everything:

Suspicious Package Forges New Friendship

A local resident found a unique way to meet her new neighbor. When a suspicious box arrived on her doorstep containing someone else's name but her address, the concerned woman called public safety. The responding officer, after confirming the box was harmless, called the phone number on the delivery sticker only to find that the phone was answered by someone right across the street! The neighbors were introduced and the box was returned to its rightful owner.

The First Step in Holiday Party Planning: Get Thee a Tree!

2009-12-08T06:59:00.005-05:00

I wish I could say that I have wonderful pictures of B and I picking out our tree, but I think you know better. First, it was dark. Second, it was COLD. Third, I didn't even think about bringing a camera. I am truly a deficient blogger.

After a relatively short time on the lot we found our tree. Well, as B calls it "YOUR tree." That is because it apparently wasn't the straightest tree on the lot. How was I supposed to know? I am not a tree/plant specialist. I didn't study horticulture. I know someone that did though. *Ahem*.

Anyway, the tree is nice and full even if it does cop a slight lean. Although we had originally planned to put it in the center of our main living room window, the tree was just too large. It does fit nicely in the corner though:

Awww...pretty tree.

Pretty tree with a slight curve to it.

Looking good!

What is the next step in this process? Why, taking blurry pictures of your husband hanging lights on said tree.

I will master this camera one day. In the meantime, I liked how the lights looked with those unintentional special effects.

B was multitasking - tree lighting and football watching. And, finally, with all of the decorations on the tree, the stockings* hung, and a little village placed in the nook above our fireplace with a fire roaring, we were done:

I also like this warm effect on my camera. It captures what the room looked like but even warmer.

What a beautiful room! Good job on the lights and village B. I will take credit for decorating the tree.**

*I have two stockings*** and B has none. At first he only put my two out there. Finally I found a stocking for him. It doesn't have his name on it so he is crying "no fair."

**I suspect B moved some bulbs and ornaments around after I was done.****

***Everyone asks why I have two stockings and I say "because my parents love me THAT much." Actually the one on the right is from 1977 that my Dad decorated. I am not sure abut the one on the left. B's stocking from childhood is still at his parents' house. I would also like you all to know, it was B that hung these up, not me. Oh, and thanks former owners for leaving us those hooks. Curtains on the windows would have also been nice and contractually mandated, but thanks for those hooks. Really.

****We can all think Lil' B a/k/a Brad the Cat for undecorating the tree. So far the casualty count is 4.

Damaged, Dodged, Deposed, Discussed a/k/a Things I Did Last Week

2009-12-07T07:22:00.007-05:00

Last week flew by and I barely posted. This caused me to stop and think about what I did all week:

Totally wiped out my computer at work with some spyware.
Became the office joke for wiping out said computer ("maybe you shouldn't surf for PORN")
Tried to explain I was really just using an online translator ("yeah for the PORN")*
Tried to figure out how to work for the next three days without a computer (how does one answer emails, bill time, generate documents, and review what's been done previously on a file without a computer? It was like living in the dark ages - pen, paper and my brain only. I barely survived!)
Tried to avoid the sickness plague that took over our office. Seriously, they were dropping like flies. One day we had four people leave early while another 7 were already out. By Friday we were down to just a few. I did not stick around.
Spent four and a half hours in deps on Tuesday. No break. No lunch. VERY crabby!
Spent four hours in court on Friday. No break. No lunch. VERY VERY crabby!!
Took a deposition of a surgeon and watched my opponent attempt to rip him to shreds, only to ask him after the dep if he would treat him for his carpal tunnel.
Discussed Tiger Woods. A lot.
Came home to numerous boxes and packages on our porch. I love online Christmas shopping.
Thought about plans for exciting new things for the blog next year.**
Cleaned, straightened, grocery shopped, meal planned, and strategized for our housewarming/holiday party.***
Watched B put finishing touches on different parts of the house for said party.
Finally, got to sleep in on Saturday.

I expect this week to be less hectic with more posting. Let's see if it shakes out that way.

*Obviously, the most important thing in watching porn is being able to understand what is being said. Actions be damned - the dialogue is all that matters!

**Are you intrigued? Excited? Curious? Are you even paying attention???

***Party post to come soon although I ended up not taking a lot of pictures. Boo on me!

Facebook: Bringing People Together and Announcing Premature Deaths

2009-12-01T06:41:00.016-05:00

I found out that a close friend of mine, whom I had lost touch with over the years, died recently. Facebook told me. I did not want Facebook to inform me of such a thing. I would rather a person have done so. That someone somewhere would have known upon my friend's death to call me and let me know. To make sure that I appeared at the memorial. But I guess that is a lot to ask when you last spoke to your "close" friend over six years ago.

So Facebook had to break the news to me. Unlike a grieving friend or family member, Facebook does not ease you into such things. It just blindsides you. There are you happily searching to see if your friend is on Facebook so you can quickly and secretly find out what he has been up to without going through the song and dance of "why didn't you call me in the past 6 years" when you are slapped in the face with this in the search results:

Remember [your close friend's name here]

A group to remember someone with your friend's name. Remember seems to imply "gone." And that sounds awfully ominous, but you think it is no big deal because prior searches have shown that there are hundreds of people that share the same name as your friend. Surely it is someone else's friend you think. Then you read the profile and see that this person is also a father and an artist and you know, it is your friend. You look through the people in the group and they are all from your area. Finally, you find a picture.

It is him. Your friend that is a father. Your friend that is a respected artist.

Your friend that is dead.

Goodbye, Kevin. I wish I had been a better friend.

Can We Get A Little Color in Here?

2009-11-30T07:15:00.000-05:00

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...

2009-11-24T07:05:00.007-05:00

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?

2009-11-23T07:19:00.000-05:00

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

2009-11-18T20:55:00.005-05:00

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

2009-11-17T07:06:00.000-05:00

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*

2009-11-16T07:07:00.000-05:00

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?

2009-11-11T17:47:00.000-05:00

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!

2009-11-10T18:13:00.000-05:00

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...

2009-11-09T17:51:00.000-05:00

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?

2009-11-08T18:00:00.000-05:00

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!

2009-11-07T19:12:00.010-05:00

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.

Flashback Friday: It's Never Too Dark to Wear Shades

2009-11-06T07:31:00.000-05:00

When I was a small child in middle school, we made a time capsule. Okay, I wasn't small. It was 1984 or 1985 so I was about 12 or 13. In any event, we filled out a piece of paper that, today, would be considered a meme on the internet. It had information about us, what we liked, what was happening that year, etc. The goal, I believe, was to open it the next year. My memory is actually fuzzy on the specifics.

You know who's memory is not fuzzy? My mom's memory. That woman is as sharp as a tack, whatever that means. One time I mentioned the time capsule and she reminded me what I put in it. Yes, she remembered after all of those years. I wish she had forgotten.

Apparently, I wrote that my favorite song of all time - ALL TIME - was Corey Hart's "I Wear My Sunglasses at Night."

Wait...what?

I must have banged my head as a child. However, for your listening and reading pleasure, below is a video from You Tube complete with lyrics. Check this gem out:

Now I am kind of confused about some of they lyrics. Let's start with these:

And I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can

Keep track of visions in my eyes

Honestly, that may be the only part of the lyrics that make some sort of sense to me. I mean if you are wearing sunglasses it blocks everything from your sight so you can only see the visions in your eyes (or head). Wait? Sunglasses only cut down on glare? They don't make you blind? Well, there goes that theory.

Now about these lyrics:

Don't switch the blade in the guy in shades, oh no

Don't masquerade with the guy in shades, oh no, I can't believe it

'Cause you got it made with the guy in shades, oh no

Before I discuss these, I want to note that I believe this song is a love song. Don't believe me? Just take another look at that last line "you got it made with a guy in shades." Sounds like a love tune to me.

However, I am not quite sure what "don't switch the blade" means? Is there a knife involved? Is this a song about domestic violence? Also, I think masquerading around someone wearing shades is perfectly acceptable because they CANT SEE YOU. Oh, wait. That's right. You are just not as bright or something.

Speaking of bright...I think I lost half of my brain cells analyzing this song that I thought was super cool in the 80s. So cool, it made it into a TIME CAPSULE as my favorite song EVER.

I need therapy.

If you want to check out the actual video with Corey Hart, follow the link below. The video will not assist you much in figuring out the lyrics unless watching Corey sing into a phone "don't switch the blade on a guy in shades, oh no" while the cops approach means something to you. If it does, and you can explain, please let me know. I have a time capsule to edit.

I wonder where they buried it...

check out the you tube video here (sorry, it will not allow to embed in the post).*

*Tell me that is not a catchy tune.

**How funny are some of those comments on You Tube?

If You Don't Cooperate, I am Sending the Lion After You

2009-11-05T07:43:00.000-05:00

We are in the waiting room for blood draws only.

You are in your dress pants, dress shoes and undershirt, having already removed you dress shirt, suit jacket and top coat in anticipation of having your blood drawn.*

So when the nurse comes to the door and calls you name, you look more than a little bit foolish when you look up and answer "What?" as if you have no clue why she is there.**

On another note, is a sexy lion costume really appropriate for a doctor's office or any office for that matter?

Halloween brings out all of the freaks.***

*I typically do not completely undress to get blood drawn from my ARM, but that's just me.****

**The appropriate response is to smile and/or say "yes", as you get up and move toward the nurse. It is not proper to just sit there with your newspaper saying "what" repeatedly. Take note half dressed man!

***Or is that a full moon? I can't keep this straight.

****I also do not get undressed in common waiting areas. Again, that's just me.

My Nose Works Just Fine, Thank You Very Much!

2009-11-04T07:22:00.000-05:00

The other day at the office a woman and I got on to the elevator at the same time. I noticed that she was carrying a take out box from the deli on the first floor. I knew that it was Mexican day at the deli and her food smelled good, so inquired as to what she had in her box stating "What do you have there? It smells so good!" Her reply?

"You can't smell my food."

Um, wait. What? Yes, I CAN smell your food. I DID smell your food. Now I am asking you about your food. So I reply:

"So, what do you have THERE?"

She says "Taco salad."

"Yeah, I CAN SMELL IT."

She says "Really?"

Um, what? Why is she finding it so hard to believe I can smell her food? Does taco meat not smell? Does she not want to tell me what she has? Is it a secret? Is she scared I am going to copy her and go get the same thing like I do to B so now he makes me order first? Did she think I was trying to pick her up with my sexy what-kind-of-food-you-got-there pick up line?

I was so perturbed I decided not to tell her that her food probably isn't going to smell so good coming out.*

*Damn greasy deli food that tastes good but isn't good and my stomach wishes for once my tastebuds would listen to it.

Our First Halloween: Pumpkins, a Dragon, and Many Cars

2009-11-01T19:35:00.013-05:00

This was our first Halloween in the new house. We had been warned about the number of kids/adult trick or treaters that we may encounter. We border another city that has a really early curfew (6 pm) due to crime and other issues, so those parents usually bring their children to our side...in cars. Our street was packed.

We invited B's sister and her family over to trick or treat with us and help us pass out candy. We had so much fun!

First up - the carved pumpkins. This one was mine:

B carved this one to look like it had fallen. One poor girl was traumatized until her father said "he is just sleeping." A few other children pointed out that he had fallen over. I guess B is a genius. And a sadist.

B drilled holes into this one and it looked great lit up. We left it in our backyard glowing eerily all night. Of course THAT picture didn't turn out. Side note: I hate my camera and/or the memory card that messes up half my pictures.

Here is another one that B carved. Before I went to go look at it, I asked him what kind of face he carved and he replied "a happy one." Um, well...

My pumpkin was quite disturbed to discover he had lost part of his scalp:

B's pumpkin, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind:

There is our nephew, dressed as a SCARY dragon, going to greet the early trick or treaters:

And there he is sticking his head in B's pumpkins. Did I tell you he is obsessed with pumpkins?

I wanted a picture of the pumpkins lit up at night. B wanted to ham it up with our brother-in-law, so they are pretending B is handing out candy and my brother-in-law is a child with a back problem:

After B's sister and her family returned from trick or treating, they told us some guy on the next block had a hearse. No biggie to us as he drives it every day. Apparently, though, he decked it out for Halloween and it included lights, a fog machine and scary music. You had to reach into the hearse to get your candy. Spooky!

Toward the end of the night, the kids mainly came in cars. Our street was packed:

It was a terrific night! Just when I thought we would have a ton of left over candy, the second shift came and nearly wiped us out. Luckily we were smart enough to turn out our light when we had two small bags left (100,000 bars - YUM). In case you were wondering, we bought approximately 900 pieces of candy.

Some other highlights from the night included:

The 2 year old dressed like Michael Jackson, complete with hat, glove, socks, and sunglasses who would only say "oooh oooh" very softly under his breath.
Seeing Mario run down our street to meet up with a kid dressed as a bicycle cop, complete with the bicycle
Seeing Mario's father walk down the street 15 minutes later stating "I lost my Mario" only to return later to declare "I found him. He was under a giant mushroom."
Seeing two teenagers in masks stare each other down in our walkway and asking B if he knew why they were having a "mask off"
The mustard and ketchup costumes that we thought were crayons from across the street
The woman that asked our in laws if she could pay them a couple of dollars to use our bathroom
Our elderly next door neighbor running over dressed as the killer from Scream and holding a doll from The Scream painting which made noises and scared the crap out of the kids asking for candy
Our neighbors' bat hanging from their doorway that was supposed to make noises when anyone approached, but wouldn't do anything unless he clapped so he would open the door, clap, scare the kids and then the bat would make noise
B telling me to go pretend I was a scarecrow and scare the kids but instead I scared myself when the cornstalk touched me

Even the plants in our garden turned orange for the occasion:

Hope your Halloween was filled with candy, costumes and cute kids!

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

2009-10-29T08:08:00.000-04:00

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

2009-10-28T07:30:00.000-04:00

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

2009-10-27T07:30:00.000-04:00

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

2009-10-26T07:33:00.000-04:00

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!

2009-10-25T13:47:00.006-04:00

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

2009-10-23T07:43:00.001-04:00

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.