From the monthly archives:
Not really. She is very small and French but she’s about as vicious as a teddy bear. I know it looks like we got into some type of backyard brawl here but in reality, it was the annual “Battle of the Confetti” eggs and she pretty much kicked my butt.
…and everyone was happy again.
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From the top we have Mr. C’s “Girly Egg”, “Love Egg”, “Crazy Egg” and “Sorry Egg”. The next four are the artistic renderings of Miss G who chose to honor her family. The orange one is Mr. Potter, the yellow one that says “Meow” is our cat Mary Bailey. The next one, the “I’m so stressed from dealing with these kids I am about to snap like Michael Douglas in ‘Falling Down’” egg is of course, The Man.
But who is that egg in the middle?
The one with the MOUSTACHE???
I think it’s time to go get that lip wax.
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Psst.
I’m not here today. No really. I’m in Arkansas….do you envy my travel schedule yet? I’m trying to knock out all the A’s this month. Austin, Atlanta, Arkansas. The way this is going, next week I’ll be in Antartica. (Hi Boss…if you are reading this? Please don’t add this to my territory…I was JOKING.)
Here’s my cool Super Power though (other than the ability to run through airports in very high heels..) I’m also in Buffalo hanging out my friend Pamela’s place…The Dayton Time. Little Elliot joined their family two weeks ago and she has foolishly trusted me to hold down the fort.
Swing on over and see my astute advice to a newborn finding himself under the glaring spotlight of the blogosphere…being a famous newborn is not to be taken lightly!
Hope you all have a wonderful Easter weekend!
PS: Holy Hell. Halfway through the day and I just realized there is no link to The Dayton Time. You can either assume I enjoy making things difficult for you or that I’m just plain stewpit. (I’d go with the latter…) So, to get to my very astute post that a stewpitly did not leave a link for….GO HERE.)
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Not really. Got you to open my post though didn’t it? Yeah, I’m all tricky like that.
I go to Atlanta a lot for business these days. Most of the time, I get there, go straight to the hotel and get ready for appointments the next day. I don’t really know anyone there except my MIL (Hi MIL!) and she lives a full hour out of town. It’s a beautiful city and I love it but usually I’m alone there at least the first night before my boss (Hi Boss!) comes into town or I connect with a client for dinner or drinks. I do not do “the alone” well so it can be a bit of a bummer.
All that has changed now. I have found a real live human that I can stalk and force to come out and play with me. If you don’t know her already, meet Becky from Suburban Matron.
Look at how happy I am to be clinging to her in that picture! I promise you it was not the one, two, three glasses of wine I had at dinner either. She is beyond cool and I wish I could move there just to be friends with her. Hey, she’s the one who said we should live closer together so we could hang out. While I can’t possibly move there and leave all my buddies here in Texas, I may pitch a tent in her front yard.
Wait, does that make me a stalker?
Probably.
STAY WITH ME NOW, THIS IS GOING SOMEWHERE….
I started stalking Becky online when I read this post of hers in September letting everyone know she had been forced enthusiastically recruited to join the PTA. Having been down that particular road in my life, and having it ended on what I’ll politely call “a bad note” I felt a need to follow her antics. (I’ll just say this, it really all boiled down to one woman and she should have known that showing up at school wearing a shirt that actually said “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy”, and giving me shit in a public forum was going to lead to one thing and one thing only…me throwing out an eff bomb and leaving the room, because I’m classy, yo.)
Anyway, Becky started realizing what she may have gotten herself into a few posts later at which point I felt it was my duty to step in, identify myself as a PTA Survivor and tell her to take immediate shelter.
We started communicating back and forth pretty regularly after that through comments until I finally got brave enough to ask her if she’d like to meet in person while I was in Atlanta. Not knowing what she was getting herself into, she accepted.
And now she is never going to get rid of me.
The thing I started to realize, and something we discussed, is that blogging is like pre-screening for friends. You find people you think you like, you read them, and you start emailing back and forth a little bit. Then sometimes there is a phone call or two and then all of a sudden you agree to meet in person. It’s a little nerve wracking at first, you’re not sure you are going to have anything meaningful to talk about but then you realize you already knew this person, maybe better than the girlfriends you see only every once in a while at school, Starbucks or the gym. And then you realize they know you too and cared enough to read you. They stuck with you through your sad stories, they laughed at your funny moments, they actually CARED if you were having a good or a bad day. Then your guard goes down and that’s when it happens. You realize you’ve met someone you want to be friends with in real life. It’s a blind date of sorts, but one where you got to take a little peek into the persons soul beforehand.
This blogging thing? Is pretty cool, isn’t it?
So now it’s your turn. Tell me about your blind dates with other bloggers. Give a little linky love in your posts too! If you’ve had a bad blind bloggy date, share that one too…but no names please!
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go pack up my house for the big move. Becky? Can you just stick a for sale sign in your neighbors yard and get them moving along so I can unload my stuff and not live in your yard?
Thanks, girlfriend!
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It’s that time of year, time for a little spring cleaning. I’m not sure what’s gotten into me but this year I’ve got it BAD. Yesterday for no apparent reason, I took on the pantry. Any person in their right mind would take it a shelf at a time. Not me. No sir. I like to morph into total OCD mode and really go nuts. Things flying everywhere, loud sighs of disgust, screams as I uncover something that may or may not result in a strain of the bubonic plague if it were to be unleashed on humanity from my home in Texas. It is usually at this point that The Man, children and animals hide or wisely leave the house entirely, much like when Bitchmas rolls around.
So, here we are before the madness:
And after…FIVE enormous bags of garbage later, my pantry looks like this:
Of course now we have no food but whatever.
All I can say is when you have canned goods with an expiration date of 2006…it’s time to make some drastic changes. As if the cans, empty wrappers and stale leftover bits of chips and nuts flying out of the pantry at a furious pace was not enough to alarm my family, I now plan to take the additional annoying step of getting out the P-Touch and labeling the shelves so no one messes with my “new and improved” system. Think I’m kidding? Oh no, I’m not. You put the mayo where the syrup is supposed to sit and you’ll be answering to me.
Which brings me to my blog. It’s been seven months that I have been torturing you people and it’s time to pay you back. Thanks to my wonderful friend Deanna at Domestic Chicky, this place is getting a good once over and clean up. This is where you come in. In addition to everything else that is going to get all fancied up around here over the next few months, the blogroll needs some updating. If you’d like to be on my blogroll, please leave me a comment and let me know. It’ll be a while before the changes start to take place but this is my first step in getting organized and being a better bloggy friend. So leave me a comment and I’ll get you added.
In the meantime, I have to figure out where the P-Touch is buried so I can get on with the business of scaring my family with this new found obsession…
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