Leap'in In to March

Well a couple of things happened this week...

At work - I'm constantly working ahead into the weeks and months ahead.  Thanks to the rain out of the Daytona 500 on Sunday my Monday and Tuesday were spent working in this week which isn't the norm.  On Monday I kept looking ahead to February 28th and at one point was thinking it was in fact, February 28th.  Why am I giving this any attention?  Well at that one point where I was thinking it was February 28th, I quickly opened up an email to send to The Dad to wish him a "Happy Adoption Day"... and I felt badly that I hadn't remembered before jetting off to work.  And then I remembered... it's the 27th.  So instead of writing it up and saving it so I could send it after I forgot the next morning - I closed it and got back to business.

Thanks again to the Daytona and my uber busy week thus far - when The Dad got home last night from work, I started to say "You're adoption day is tomorrow..."  And as I was trailing off I now realized it was Tuesday and in fact, his adoption day.  So there were two days this week that I thought were February 28th and neither of them was Tuesday.  

This morning, on our way home from the club I said "I'm so glad it's Thursday."  Fuuuu.....

So glad they chose you!!!

Guess what?  It's not Thursday.  And for those of you that knew that already - treat yourself to a cookie.  I on the other hand, will be treating myself to a glass of chardonnay tonight.  Perhaps a bottle...  whatever gets us out of February, better yet - THIS WEEK best, I'll take!

So - Gaggy...  Happy Belated Adoption Day... Happy Leap Day... Year... <?> and I'll just go ahead and wish you a Happy Anniversary (21 years on Friday!) and Happy Birthday  (November 29) now, because it's not lookin' too good right now that I might get a day right.  At least not this week!

And now... let's adventure on into March... shall we?

Let's Pretend...

You remember when you were little and you wanted to play "pretend house", "pretend doctor", "pretend singer/movie star", smoke "pretend cigarettes" because that was sooooo cool?  You remember those times?

What the (*@*&^ were we thinking?!?!?!?

I've been playing "pretend" a lot lately - with regards to one thing more than most others.  You see, since December I think I've racked up roughly 47 mailers (magazines) that I'm sure I just have to look through!    About 4 weeks ago I actually sifted through them and recycled all of the ones that had Christmas "themes" and last night before I went to my massage appointment I shuffled through them again to make sure there were no "Valentines" based ads/magazines.  I figured when I got home - since I had made dinner, started and folded laundry at lunch and even started to clear the guest bedroom of all of it's ugliness - that I could return from my appointment and while waiting for "The Voice" and "Smash" to come on, I could FINALLY thumb through them to see what I might not be able to live without.

Well...  that's what I pretend I'm going to do... at least 4 times a week.  On the days I don't get to pretend I'm going to do that - I move that stack of V.I.M.'s from one spot to another (Okay mom... "very important magazines"... got it?)  And when I'm not moving the v.i.m.'s around I'm NOT pretending to do laundry.  I'm NOT pretending to pick up the miscellaneous crumbs and pieces of garbage that everybody else in this house KNOWS is garbage or crumbs but leave them sitting there for the "invisible house cleaner" to pick up.  So many things I'm NOT pretending to do...

I might have to make an appointment with a "pretend house doctor", write it on the calendar and while I'm waiting for the pretend appointment, I'll sit in the living room with my magazines and thumb through them.  And when The dad or #3 son walk in and ask what's for dinner or where they put their car keys (this actually doesn't apply to #3 son) I will pretend I can't hear them, since I'll be in a pretend waiting room... NOT pretending to look at my ginormous stack of V.I.M's.  (You still remember what that stands for mom?  Good girl!)

A Three "N" Day!

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles 

and warm woolen mittens

Brown paper packages

tied up with string

These are a few of my favorite things:

Football, any PGA event that includes Tiger Woods, anything my boys are involved with, music, Cabo, writing, jokes/humor, my pups, Thanksgiving Turkey Bowl, WSU, EWU, UW/Western, "Remember The Titans", "Blindside", George Clooney, "The Voice", "Grey's", Rosauers shortbread cookies and hangin out with my best guy!

But today wasn't a "F.P.TW.B.M.C.W.J/H.P...." day... it was an NNN day.  As in:

Noooooooooooo!!!! Not Nascar!!!!!!

Number 1)  Please explain why anyone thinks that watching cars go round and round in circles is any fun.  At all.  Scratch that.  Don't.  Because I really don't want to have to pretend like what you suggest - *might* change my mind.  It won't, so don't. 

Number 2)  IF a race gets rained out, they shouldn't move it to the next day - they should cancel it.  Period.  It made for a really really really busy, day at work today.  Not that I mind that - but every day is already busy enough.  

Number 3)  I'm pretty sure there doesn't need to be a #3.

Football doesn't get rained out.  Basketball doesn't get rained out.  If your sport can't go on in the rain (baseball, Nascar), then I propose that that game/race is not EVER made up.  Postponed perhaps... to 2312.  Just a suggestion.

In other news:  How about a shout out to my beautiful niece Allison Jennifer and her wonderful new FIANCE, Nick!  Congratulations you two!  We are so happy for you!

It's So Cold Out... Thank God for Hot Flashes!

Or not.

Having one ovary was pretty much pretty perfect for me.  Sadly, when it came time to check out what was wrong again the doc didn't give me much of a choice and the second one had to come out.  The first three months without "her" were okay, until the shot they gave me, my body decided not to "process" normally - shocker.  What followed was unwanted weight gain, mood swings worse than when I HAD ovaries and all that accompanies them.  

It was deduced that birth control pills were not the answer and he would never again give me the shot so HRT it is and a cream that's made at the pharmacy.  I started, in August, after all of the hormones finally wore off from the half-shot in June.  They prescribed .5ml two times a day and after three weeks I was back to beeyotch of the century, itchy skin and mood swings Satan would kick me out of hell for.  A phone call to doc and pharmacist suggest cutting it back to half of each dose and see if that helps.  10 days later - I'm still pretty pissed, itchy and praying for an ovary to miraculously grow in me.  Why not?  Everything else did.  Next phone call with the pharmacist - where I believe she understands what circumstances my family members must be living with...  she says to go off of it entirely for 10 days and then start up with the cream, ONE time a day - the half dose.  

Not entirely the same thing happened, but close.  So now I'm down to a half of a half dose.  Actually less... to about one eighth of what was prescribed...  and mostly - I'm freaking fantabulous.  

Except...  

For the hot flashes.  If I'm at home - then I don't really care if I get one and immediately strip off my pants to find relief, or tear off my shirt and find a tank top to wear for the remainder of the day.  And usually I find I only have them once I've settled in for the night - so that's good, right?  Well, mostly.  I handle it just fine when we're watching TV or I'm cooking.  But once I go to bed - I get a bit pissed.  It's covers on.  Covers off.  Covers on. Covers off.  Once I fall asleep I'm good to go for the night.  But usually, within about 10  minutes of waking up in the morning... I get a good one.  What one must understand is that as I'm angrily tossing covers or removing legs from under the covers because I can't toss covers (due to dogs laying all over the place) is that The Poor Dad is having to live with this.  The guy deserves a standing ovation because he NEVER says a thing or tries to pull covers back up.  He just patiently waits for me to pull them back up.  The thing about mine are - they don't last long.  So there's that.  So far.

BUT - when they happen at work, or while we're out at a restaurant, well... that just plain sucks.  This week - I got a first one while at work towards the end of the day and I happened to be wearing a skirt and tights.  I took off my shoes to see if that would help and it did not.  Shit.  I sat there trying to think through how I could just take off my tights until it passed because it was seeming to take some time to "go the fu** away".  The more I told it to, the longer it lasted and the hotter I got.   

I recently read that in hotter weather, they get worse... and I'm not about to let it affect my Cabo vacation - so off to buy a product I was told about last fall that I didn't need... until now.  Black Cohosh.  Several gals my age-ish recommended it though I was doing pretty well at that point up until about 3 weeks ago.  So I think it's time to give it a shot.  It's gotten old pretty fast and I just am not a very patient person.

In the meantime, if you come to the front door and I don't answer right away, it's merely because I'm trying to spare you from seeing me in my underwear!

Think Spring? Think Not!

"The storm starts, when the drops start dropping

When the drops stop dropping then the storm starts stopping"

~Dr. Suess

Thumbs Down:  Good ole' Snowkane.  Kudos to our local meteorologists for NOT forecasting this storm that's got the city officials urging us all NOT to go out driving because of multiple slide offs and accidents... and power outages, street light power outages and more snow than we've gotten all winter.  Bravo I say... Bravo!

There should be an award for the news stations around the country that flub up the forecast the most.  

Thumbs Up: WSU President Floyd.  Thanks for bringing in my blue eyed boy and all of his Cougar compadres from the elements and providing them with warm drinks after their camp out last night for todays game against UW.  Way to take care of our Cougar cubs!  

Thumbs Down: Television programming.  There's nothing to watch while we're under house arrest by the city officials.

Thumbs Up:  Scratch above.  I completely forgot that I recorded but have not yet watched "Grey's Anatomy" from this past week!  

Thumbs Up:  Family Fun!  The very welcomed opportunity to hit the town... okay... Morty's, last night with many of the Turkey Bowl participants - kids too!  Dinner, catching up, kids exit and then a few more cocktails.  We really need one of those "Beam me up" devices so that we can spend much more needed time with the people in Vancouver.  

Thumbs Down:  Okay.  I've talked about her before... But "Boobs" was at the club yesterday with a new hairstyle.  She might actually be attractive if she wasn't always checking herself out.  I would say she's been coming to the club since last August and she's had the "ladies" since that time.  So my question is:  WHY does she keep looking at them the way she does?  It would be one thing if it was discreet in the  mirror or something - and perhaps she thinks it is, but I'm sure she's going to have neck problems from looking down so much.  So... is she afraid they're going to fall out/off?  Is she still so in awe of them and herself nearly 8 months later? (That would be assuming she got them right before she started coming to the club... not likely).  I'm not jealous or anything - I am one of the people that has never had a desire to have breast augmentation done.  I would rather be flat... much to my husbands dismay.  But c'mon... enough already.  Some day, I'm going to get on a machine next to her and after the ohhhh...  18th or 19th time she checks on her jewels I think I might just say "I noticed you got a breast reduction... how long was it before you could work out again.?"

I missed yesterday... Thumbs Down.  I worked all day, had lunch with friends (thumbs up), worked late... not going there right now...  what a day!  Home, foot rub from Gaggy to help me relax and then off to Mortys.  I talked to The Dad about needing to write my daily "spot" when I got home - but the black, brown and yellow dogs were all so happy to see me and I felt it was more important to give them what they so often give me...

Thumbs Up:  Love love love...  

The weather has now dictated that some laundry should get done... 

And to think I was starting to feel like maybe the Cabo trip wasn't nearly as warranted this year as it was last year due to such tame weather this winter.  This pretty much puts that thought out of commission.  

My Sac Legacy... or is that "Sock" Legacy

Once upon a time - when I worked for a school in the school district, we got a "new guy" after I'd been there 3 years already.  He is Gaggy's age and we became fast friends.  One day, when he was still fairly "green" I noticed 1) his pants were riding a little high around his ankles and 2) his socks certainly didn't match his outfit.  I'm pretty sure he could tell you what I said verbatim at that moment - but he's not here, so I'm sure it was something like this:

CWOTY - "Did you know that you put on socks that don't match your outfit this morning?"

GUY 1: - (Looking down) - "Well, ya."

CWOTY - "You do know, that they in fact, do not match, right?"

GUY 1: - "They don't?  Well, then what matches this?"

This was followed up with a different color matching scenarios - lesson.  Which he learned from!

He walked away a little stunned and probably hurt, but for months - made sure I recognized his socks.  In fact - here's a text I received from him a week or so ago:

A few years after that... along comes Peter.  Peter came up with some crazy outfits and much like with Greg - I asked him if his wife actually let him leave the house dressed the way he did sometimes.  He actually has shoes that LOOK like Ronald McDonald shoes.  I'm not lying.  Pete's issues are a little more concerning but he did a pretty good job of trying to make sure he wasn't mismatched... much.  There was a time I asked Peters wife if she knew what he arrived to work wearing and she said sometimes, she just lets him go without saying a thing because HE THINKS HE LOOKS GOOD.  Which makes me love love love Patty!

But this morning I get this text from Peter:

I knew immediately that this meant Pete's socks didn't match his outfit... or even his shoes.  If you'll note the bottom part of his text (in white) he openly tells me what he is wearing.  What he doesn't mention...

Is that his pants are green.  So I sent a message to the ones that now openly admit to checking their socks when getting dressed asking if Peter thought he was...

The Joker.  Because the only other thing I can think of when I hear purple and green is "Barney" and cash.

It's nice to know, that even though I'm no longer there, and one day, will not be here... that my sock legacy will live on...  for a while anyhow.

Give It Up, Baby!!

We are a Presbyterian family.  Well - my husband "converted" from Episcopalian many years ago.  And when I say "converted" - it's not like he had to take classes and jump through any hoops, fill out paperwork to do so.  But we found a church we all like - after a year of "church shopping" back when the boys were still real young...

Presbyterianism aside - I decided to take on "Lent" a few years back.  I started "giving up" something that a lot of gals couldn't/wouldn't fathom to give up.  Fingernails.  I quit getting my nails done every 2-3 weeks with the acrylic stuff.  I have paper thin fingernails to start and was a nail biter until the boys were all born.  Then I didn't have enough time to bite them anymore.  But even so, if the wind blows, I sneeze, turn on the TV, or think about folding laundry - they'd split or break.  They peel, they split, they are stupid fingernails.  So I had fakies for a very long time and I gave them up.  It's not like it's a daily thing, but it was a start...  So that's what I gave up.  And I've never gone back.  I had 3 really great years with my own nails and some supplements that seemed to help - but after my last "girl" surgery - and my once again messed up hormonal "system" - they're back to shit.  That's right... shit.  Left hand nails are longer than right hand which can't catch up because they split/peel/bend/break/snag more than the left.  But - I don't bite them and that's when they looked their worst.  So, they're short as shit, but they're there.  Shout out to my mother for giving me her genetics on these.  Better that - than her pronunciation of the words:  measure, pleasure and treasure.

After I gave up my fingernails - the next three or four years I followed suit of a family friend of ours and gave up pop.  That's a pretty big feat - and I succeeded at it every year.  It got to the point that when the time came I could have one, I didn't really want one - and when I had one, it was too sweet and didn't satisfy me.  I'll have a pop occasionally now - but it's certainly not like it was when I had to have it to sustain myself to deal with three teenage boys, The Dad and however many animals we had at the time.

I never drank coffee - and technically I still don't drink coffee... as it were.  But 7 years ago - when we had morning workout buddies (The Kinns) we would go to Starbucks after our workouts where Tami got us hooked on lattes...  There haven't been many days since then, that we've gone without.  If I were smart - I'd give up lattes and start doing my fingernails again... it would save me money!  So a few years ago I tried to give up my daily - tall, nonfat, with whip (what's the point of nonfat if you're still getting the whip?), cinnamon dolce latte.  And I went about 3 days before Jeff (and I) found my mood to be... ummm... well, like really bad pre-menstrual syndrome...  which I hadn't had in a gazillion years due to my fairly regular girly surgeries.  So - my "Lent" suffered that year.  And I think the following year after.

Now last year - I didn't partake because by the time I remembered Lent, I was nearly halfway through it.  That's uhhh... pretty pathetic.  And brilliant!

But today - I remember.  And today I am "forced" to give something up.  I could take the easy way out of this blog goal and give it up for 40 days, but then I technically don't reach that goal... in November.  I can tell you now - I REFUSE to give up  my latte... it's not worth it - to anyone around me.  I don't have any shopping "issues" on a consistent basis, because I hate shopping.  So, I'm stuck.  What will it be.  Or what can I take on that I haven't done or don't usually do?  

I think I've got it - and it's going to take some work.  I'm going to take something on versus waxing the only thing that I could really remove from my daily schedule...  which would be tough.  But so will what I take on.  I am not going to disclose what it is right now, though I will tell The Dad - so he knows, and I'm going to have to ask for an exception for the days we are on vacation, because we will be out of the country and I will be unable to perform this "task" while there...  But by then I'll give it up, because I'll either be doing really good, or have failed miserably.  And while it might not seem like such an undertaking to the outsider, remember, to each of us, things are often differently perceived.  

So... Happy Lent everyone!

Got anything you will give up?  Or better yet, take on?

Awe Bananas!

Number one - It's "Monday".  Even though it's Tuesday, and a short week - I was finding a very good reason to skip the club this morning and snuggle up with Dan The Dog in bed just to get another hour of sleep before needing to get ready for work...  but I fought myself and "self" won because, much as I hate it, "self" knows that I have so much  more energy if I work out early in the morning.  And usually, I wish I had gone earlier once I get halfway through my workout.

Number two - I don't love getting the FAFSA's filled out and submitted each year... just one of those deadline things that HAS to get done by a certain time and regardless of scholarships and various grants, etc - they STILL have to be submitted for the two boys.  But the "banana's" of this particular post is that I had to fill it out THREE times this weekend... and it's one of the final things to do for as we head in to "Senior Spring".  Sure there's planning Zachs' graduation party, deciding which school and sending deposits and room questionnaires... but that's fun stuff.  FAFSA?  Not so much.

Number three - we learned last year that traveling out of country - is best if done by "carry on".  At least, if you're going somewhere warm.  I found last year that I didn't use half the shoes, shirts, jackets... that I thought I might need... So we knew coming home that this year we would all carry carry-on baggage.  Well... the one legit carry on that we have has bit the dust.  Ryans' trip to St. Louis and home was the last trip that particular piece wanted to take.  So we went shopping for new carry on bags this weekend... and I found some really pretty bags, bags with special wheels, ultra lite bags, bags with patterns, bags with two handles and super special toiletries compartments.  They were all on sale at Macy's but holy travel bags, Batman, if they call those sale prices - well, Jeff might just have to take the clothes he wears on the plane.  <snort>  I shouldn't say that out loud... he might actually consider it.  

Last "Banana" of the day...  I have a Costco/Rosauers house full of food and no clue what to make for dinner.

Blech... banana's.

The One I Almost Didn't Watch

"SMASH"

When it debuted 3 weeks ago I was soooo tired and hit the "record" button on the DVR.  But it started before I actually removed my rear from the comfy leather sofa and that was all it took.  

Week 2 I was nearly asleep on that same couch during "The Voice" when a commercial came on to "remind" me to stick around for the next installment of "SMASH".  The Dad looked my way as I gasped - knowing that I was going to have to stay up... again, and he laughed.

I never thought I'd even ever watch "The Voice" but I've fallen in love with Adam Levine and Blake Shelton so have rewired my body to be able to make it through their broadcasts, all the while following them on Twitter - as they tweet during the show.  So, I was prepared for tonight's episode of "SMASH"...  And so far, it's not disappointing... again.

Katharine McPhee is amazing.  She's a full on actress - proven already in her 3 episodes!  

If you're not watching.... you should be.

Last Minute Addition

The 22 year old is in on the Cabo trip.  I set forth very detailed instructions about how it's all gonna go down.

Rule #1 - There will be no eye rolling or head shaking followed up with the "Mom, you don't know what you're talking about." comments and gestures.

Rule #2 - You will be nice  to the ma and pa.

Rule #3 - No corn rows for this trip.

Rule #4 - Repeatedly remind yourself of rules #1 and #2.

I was a tad reluctant to tell Wack that his older brother was now coming on the trip - so The Dad did it and the reply was "That's dope."

Which is slang for "Far out" for those of you who grew up in the 70's or 80's.  

But this has me feeling sad that "Blue Eyes" will not be on this trip... though I quickly rebound as I realize that next years'  Cabo trip doesn't have to be scheduled around the high schools calendar... which means - next years' trip is all about the crimson and grey school calendar and spring break.  

So besides submitting three FAFSA'S today and getting two of three tax returns done - I have been hunting and pecking and figuring out to get him down there since our flight is sold out.  I made it work, but it was work and damn it... it's my weekend!

Moms' Rule.

Less Hair Day

I have less hair today.

Many weeks ago I asked both oldest Minn boy and middle Minn boy what their plans were for their spring breaks.  Me, The Mom said that we would help them out if they were wanting to venture out with their friends and to the elder boy, knowing his spring break is close to ours - offered up Cabo.  I told them I had to know within a few weeks.  So I asked them the other day what was what - and middle said he was working on something and oldest said he didn't want to go to Mexico.

Done.

Fast forward to 4:46 pm today and a text asking if he can go with us.  

MOTY - You're effing with me, right?  Dad says you're effing with me.  

22YO -  No.  Just didn't want to go with the other people.

MOTY - Uhhhh.... uhhhh.... quickly tapping and clicking on airlines and AAA Travel.  I ask a few more questions - regarding spring football, spring semester... etc.  And have yet to hear back from 22 year old son.

Of course - that's because he's napping before the prefunking begins in College Town tonight.  What's one more day?  Right...  Except for the same fun experience of getting a passport is likely going to come in to play as last year, when Gaggy wasn't a real baby.  

For those who don't know that story:  Jeff was adopted.  His parents never had a real live copy of his birth certificate - which you have to have to apply for a passport.  He was born in Anaheim, CA and to get his birth certificate - after 28 years or something we had to go through Sacramento.  The guy in Sacramento told Jeff it would take 8 weeks to get the certificate to him and was downright rude.  I then took to the phones and got the same jackass.  The issue was, we were leaving for Cabo in 7 weeks, so... with 8 weeks Sacramento processing and expedited passport processing (3+ weeks), Zach and I would have gone and back and Jeff still wouldn't be able to go for three more weeks... I told Jeff to keep calling back until he didn't get jerkoff man and to say precisely "this" and told him what to say.  He finally got a gal on the line and told her part what I said and the other part his part.  <cringe>  But it worked and nice lady sent it right out to us after Jeff sent something overnight to her.  When it came - I proclaimed "Oh my goodness honey!  You're a real baby!"   

Unlike his parents - I do know where ALL of the birth certificates are for everyone in this house.  But the clock is ticking on the 22 year old now.

And... like I should have expected I just got this text:

"Ok. Let me sleep on it."

Three Day Weekend!

Everybody's workin' for the 3-day weekend!  Well, maybe not everyone... but I am!  With the exception that the usually not spot-on meteorologists are forecasting some doom and gloom wintery weather for the next 24 hours.  I suppose I shouldn't get upset about it - they haven't been right once this year.

It's practically March - I'm SO done with snow.  I know I shouldn't complain because we really didn't have ANY this winter - but still - I'm so so so SOOOO done with snow.

Today and yesterday have been my most "down" days at work - which has been nice because I felt so inept for what felt like a really long time.  Maybe it's not entirely that it's slowed down so much, but rather, it's that I've learned the bulk of what I need to know, how to process, make good, find traffic, figure out who buyers are and so on.  There were times I just didn't know if I was going to learn it... and I know there's more to come.  But these quiet-er days leading into the holiday weekend allowed me some time to sort through the mounds of stuff that was here from the previous gal and whittle it down to what was good, could be purged, etc.  So I feel pretty righteous.

Until...

First of all - my "office" area is right next to our IT guys "closet".  He's not an I.T. Geek at all as far as appearance, not even relatively close to my I.T. husband...  he wears cowboy boots and some hat kind of like an "Indiana Jones" hat, flannel shirts and jeans.  I won't go into any other detail, other than to say - today - he went in, didn't shut his door all the way and flat out belched!  I mean.... vile.  Gross.  Fortunately Meg (the other side of our space) heard it and loudly exclaimed "Oh, No.  Gross.  Unacceptable."  I said "Ya, right?  Glad it isn't just me."  She said that he does that from time to time and she'll tell him it's gross, makes her sick...  that she even talked to his wife about it one time.

Shortly after that - he left for the day.

I've never seen (heard) such vulgarness in the workplace...  I get it enough at home with Zach who will tell me near daily that "Farts are funny mom."  But, I changed his diapers, he peed on us as an infant... I can mostly handle farts at my house.  But burps that sound like diarreah, or worse - at work?  Notsomuch.

I see a martini in my future.  Or two.  Enough to keep the dreams of co-workers with disgusting bodily sounds from finding their way into my night.

Ewwww....  just gross.

 



February 16, 2012

I know... that you know.

I will forever regret that I didn't get, no... take the opportunity to try to right all that was and has been wrong for so long.  I know that you know that - now.   I know... that you know... I'm forever sorry.

I know you are forever young, forever amazing, forever witty.

I know you are forever loved by so many.

I know... that you know... 

SFB
12.3.90 ~ 9.16.11

Boo Hiss to the South Regal Post Office!

I've been to the post office three times in the last 5 days and there's ALWAYS only one person working behind the counter and a line of people to the door.  It's ridiculous.

It's like there's a conspiracy to really piss people off and go... you got it... postal.

I try to fake them out by smiling or pretending like it doesn't irk me that they are intentionally going so freakin' slow... I want my neighbors in line to hear my telepathic messages I am sending them to do the same, in the hopes that they will see they can't beat us - to no avail.

Who am I kidding? - Stuff has to be mailed and I can't stick "Forever" stamps on boxes!

So aggravating.

Valentines Day 2012

Valentines Day isn't especially special for me.  It's kind of like St. Patricks Day and Yom Kippur if you ask me.  If you don't get the day off or a vacation day out of it, then.. meh.

So Jeff got me a card and I gave him a new shirt...  out of the box that was sitting in the guest room.  That's as big as it needs to get for me.  I did manage to get a care package off to Ryan a week ago because there's a group of moms that put together care packages for our college boys on Halloween, Valentines and Finals (Ryans' age)... and "Little" Jeff has a new apartment, but is apparently still receiving his mail at the old apartment (don't ask) so I didn't send him anything - tho' I'm hoping to see him this weekend.  Zach... I sent The Dad to pick up an iTunes card for Zach and a candy bar.  The Dad picked out a bag of 100,000 Grand Bars to go with the iTunes card.

And - just like The Dad would do - he set the bag on his nightstand.  Fast forward to this morning, upon my return from the club, I found that Jack, Dan and Boone decided that those must have been for them... so instead of waiting for us to get home and give them to them, they just went for it.  Bless their little doggy hearts... and tonight, let The Dad enjoy their little doggy fa...

Nevermind.  

Moving on.  It snowed in The Can today.  Just when I thought we were done...  but I remembered as I sat down to write this - that 22 years ago it snowed on Valentines Day.  And snowed and snowed and snowed.  We had a green Christmas that year and no snow.  Jeffrey was 2 months old and Jeff was the student trainer for the EWU Men's Basketball team and had traveled to Utah with the team.  I was staying at his apartment in Cheney (yes... we had Jeffrey BEFORE we got married.  But don't tell anyone. It's a secret.)  with his college pal and our good friend Rich.  It snowed and snowed and snowed and we were pretty much "grounded" in Cheney for a few days until Jeff got home.  22 Years ago today.  I still got it.  I'll worry when I'm more like my mom and I can't remember that I opened a Valentines card from my daughter TODAY with a Starbucks card in it.  That's when there's cause for concern.

Which brings me to a bit of a branch in my "I'm remembering everybody's birthday this year" resolution.  I don't have any February birthdays - so I went with Valentines.  I sent out some of the cute boxed valentines (Toy Story theme) to nieces and nephews with either Starbucks cards or McDonalds and then "regular" Valentines to the parental units with Starbucks... there were some Toy Story valentines just sent through the mail for fun.   I sort of messed up on a morning workout where I told our pal Greg we'd do the class (remember the one where we can't walk for 3 days after?), so he got one which meant I had to get Linda one... and so on and so forth.  

So I was telling Jeff this tonight and he said "So... you were putting together cards and Starbucks and stamps and I got a t-shirt from the room across the hall?"

Can you feel... the love tonight...

Old People On The Road

Dear lawmakers... Please require the geriatrics to take a monthly drivers test. Sincerely, Feeling Road-Rageous in Spokane

Dan The Dog & His Sensitive Stomach

For about a week and a half now - in the mornings, we've been waking up to Dan's stomach just gurgling and churning.  Actually it's only been like 4 out of the last 10 days.  He doesn't eat and then I worry that when I come home at lunch, I'm going to find throw up all over the place.  We've had some of the special diet dog food from the vet for occasions such as these so usually about an hour after the other "boys" eat, Dan eats that.  And he's fine.  Annnnd - I have yet to find throw up when I come home.

But his gurgling and churning actually wake me up.  On top of that, he can't tell me what's wrong!  

Today was one of those days.  I don't much mind it on work days because - I have to get up to head to the club anyhow.  But on days I can "sleep in" until 630 or 7 - well those only come along twice a week.  The Dad can sleep through a sonic boom, an earthquake and even when a dog farts on the bed...  but I can't.  Today - I was not going to be bested by this - so I folded the pillow over my head as Dan The Dog and The Dad slept through the obnoxiously loud gurgling.  And it worked until the right arm holding the pillow over my ear fell asleep and I moved and hit myself in the face.  Not cool.  Followed by my request  to remove himself from my bed, being ignored.  <sigh>

We were out of the special food so after our workout this morning I ran to Petco for special food.  I searched and searched for just the right thing and found a "Sensitive Stomach" food for dogs BUT it was for ages 1-6.  There was not one for ages 7 and Up, or mature dogs, or Adult dogs with sensitive, gurgling stomachs...  I found dogfood specifically for boxers, dachsunds, german shepards and yorkshire terriers though.  

I settled on a chicken, rice and oatmeal dry food with four cans of canned food - just in case.  When I got home - we determined we'd put a little of the dry food in a bowl and mix it with a skoche of the canned food... and after Dan licked the bowl clean and smiled up at us, we knew then - we are screwed.  We'll be "mixing" his little entree up each night and morning and probably eventually cooking up some gravy and extra minute rice to throw in there.  And why stop there?  I mean - how can that  be fair to the other dogs?  Right?

Of course, the dog with the non-dog name is the dog with sensitivity issues...  I suppose that stands to reason.  

Little Dan.  Dan the Man.  Stinky Dan.  Dan the Dog.  Mingus...  This better work.

Now - I can see that Zach has found "Employee of the Month" on TV now and I just love Dax Shepard so I'm gonna go take in the rest of the movie with another one of my babies.  The kind with only 2 legs.  Until his stomach starts gurgling and I need to make dinner.  

~Whitney~ 8.9.63 - 2.11.12

***updated below***


For several years, The Dad ran a fantasy football league and I was a participant.  He was having his annual draft one year, at a time when there weren't wireless internet connections - so to be on the internet - you had to tie up your phone line.  The "drafts" lasted several hours and this particular draft had a member out of town, but who could "participate" through messaging/emails.  That particular draft was on August 31, 1997.

After the draft ended and things were cleaned up, boys put to bed - I remember turning on the TV... and on every single station was the unbelievable, shocking, saddening, maddening news that Lady Diana, Princess of Wales had been killed in a tragic car accident.  I was literally in shock.  Most people were - but I was really sad.  I had "grown up" admiring her and when I was in the 5th or 6th grade would cut out pictures in the paper of her (never the ones with her and Charles because I never found him attractive)... and I placed them in a book my Grandma got for me after the Royal Wedding.  I have newspaper photos of baby Will too. I still have the book. But my "time" with Diana dwindled as I grew up - but I always watched if she was in the news or in a magazine.  She was always stunning and she always seemed so kind and giving.

So today - The Dad and I were enjoying the rainy day and watching a movie.  The movie ended and he picked up his phone just as I was receiving a text from a friend needing a recipe for next weekend.  We were texting back and forth when my Twittering spouse announced that Whitney Houston had died.  I feel much the same as I did the day Diana was killed.

I can distinctly remember leaving the Coliseum (now the Arena) after GSL basketball games and belting out Whitney as we all drove back up to the hill.  I absolutely LOVE at Christmas  - the movie, "The Preachers Wife".   Whitney Houston... naw.  Can't be.

But as I process this - I'm conflicted.  Number one - I was shocked that she was only 48.  I felt like I grew up listening to her music - but sadly, more than that, photos over the past several years as she battled back and forth with cocaine addiction - made her appear older than that.  I was thinking more like mid to late 50's.

And then just as sad - my first thought was - overdose.  Beverly Hills, the night before the Grammy Awards, getting ready for the annual party thrown by Clive Davis...  and Whitney, a weaker-than-she-seemed being - probably decided to help herself "relax" before heading to the party where facing that particular guest list - was too much stress.  

Unfortunately, be it drugs or a freak accident or even murder - that doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, does it?  Because no matter what happened, it won't bring  her back.  

Addiction to drugs and alcohol can kill and perhaps has just claimed yet another victim.  Though sometimes, the addicted just can't kick the habit even after trying over and over again.  But if they've admitted there was a problem and tried to get well, well...  that's something.  I guess.

Awe Whitney... this just sucks.  But know...  You were loved.




***Updated***
Still lots of questions unanswered, which is to be expected - but prescription pill bottles found in the room and her family stating she's been taking xanax for anxiety pretty much begin to paint the picture.  I know anybody can add anything to Wikipedia - and it's not a great source for facts but... there's this with regards to Alprazolam - or xanax:


- At a particularly high risk for misuse and dependence are people with a history of alcoholism or drug abuse and/or dependence^[93][94] and people with borderline personality disorder. 


- In a study of deaths in Palm Beach County where the drug alprazolam was detected, approx. 50% of cases were attributed to poly-drug use (the combined toxicity of two or more drugs). The majority of these cases included either cocaine or methadone

I have to question any doctor that would prescribe his (or her) patient with known chemical dependency problems an assortment of narcotics (tho we don't know what the other pill bottles were.) to help aid her with her anxiety or stress.  I have to believe that in rehab the lesson is:  Don't put yourself in a position where you feel you NEED to use in order to withstand the "event" and/or - if you find yourself in that very position, get out.  Call someone.  Leave.  


Sadly, we probably all know someone who is addicted to prescription drugs - though you wouldn't know it to look at them.  I'm sure "most people" weren't aware of the cocktail of drugs Whitney had with her, possibly in her the entire week.  But if they had, would they have stopped her from living it up at the clubs during the week?  Likely not.  People are afraid to get involved anymore.  It's sad - because this doesn't only happen to celebrities. 


Would you ask the tough questions of your friend/family member if they were addicted to narcotics?  Or take the "Whitney" chance and hope that because "he/she" seems normal and fine - it's OK?!?

8 Hours... (Kind of Like "8 Seconds", But Not Really

Today I got up early, went to work out at the same time, had a good workout, got home and got ready for work.  Same ole' same ole.  But somehow I left about 8 minutes later than normal and still had to go to Starbucks and then travel all 1 minute of time to work.

So I got to work a little later than usual and had just an inkling of a thought that my "Thank God It's Friday" might really have turned into "Get me the heck outta here, NOW" Friday.  

And it only took logging on and printing off the first order of the day to know that's exactly what today was going to be.

I did not pass "Go", nor did I collect $200 during my time with account #00933093 (not a real #).  I did not take a lunch break and I did not leave at 4 when my boss asked me if I'd gone to lunch and then told me I could leave since I had not.  I stayed until just after 5.  I spent 8 hours reconciling a silly amount of spots and I'm not sure it's entirely "spot on" - but it's gotta be close.  Check that - I spent NINE hours reconciling that damn thing.  

It's hard to take over contracts that my predecessor started because, as the quarter goes on, the contract (and continuous changes and printouts) keep building up.  I went through 31 versions of back and forth between the station and rep and found things that needed some attention.  And christ on a crutch, if they didn't take it.  

I talked to myself a lot, used a ton of sticky notes... and I realized at the end of the day that I didn't even finish my latte from this morning.  That's a cryin shame!  

I'm too tired to even pour myself a glass of wine.  Or blink.

Gonna be a rockin' time at our house tonight.  When The Dad gets home tonight and asks what's for dinner - I'm going to practice my best impression of "Samantha" from "Bewitched" and winkle my nose and see what happens.  Chances are, he's going to go hungry tonight.  

In other news - Zach shaved his head all the way!  Due to his fun hair "style" at Rubber Chicken, this was the only option.  But it looks good.  Fortunately Zach will not go hungry tonight because he warmed up the leftover chicken alfredo from the other night.  Yay Zach.  

That's all.  I might be hearing things, but I'm pretty sure the couch and blanket are calling my name.  

Na Na Na Na... Na Na Na Na.... Hey hey hey...

So the Ferris Saxons came out of the Rubber Chicken contest - winners - all the way around. Girls basketball team won, boys team won, and all of the kids involved in the "spirit competition" won.  There were three really great parts to the eventful night at the Arena.

1 - The girls basketball team led the entire game.  This is a big feat as the girls program has been rebuilding for a few years now and many of their losses were winnable.  But to win "this" game, for them, their coaches, the parents, the coaches spouses... this is a huge win.  And it made me very happy to watch it happen.

2 - The work that the guy "cheerers" put in starting back in late November or early December until last night is... well, it's amazing.  These "macho" boys spend Monday nights for 10 weeks and really the last two weeks a few early mornings and a few extra after school practices, learning how to support, toss, catch the girls with their acrobatics and routines and even learn their own little routine - and as a parent, I was proud.  It's not how or where I envisioned Zach would be for his senior rubber chicken - what with being a great athlete and tough basketball player, but it all worked out great.  And as I was telling my friend this morning - I have come to believe that the kids who suffer disappointment now (not referring to Zach, but sadly, another unfortunate casualty last night), early on in their lives, when they want something so bad they can taste it and get disappointed, or are treated unfairly... Those kids, post high school, are sure to find great success because they will have learned to deal with disappointment and know what they need to do in other, new avenues of life, to NOT have to feel like "that" again.  And so it was that Zach was a Rubber Chicken cheer "dude" and he did really well.  All of the boys did.

3 - This marked the 3rd Minn boy who was a part of winning "Chuck" during his senior year.  I can't tell you during all of these years when Ferris had "Chuck" or not - but I can tell you that all three of our boys get to leave high school with that fun accomplishment from their senior year.  I don't know if they will be able to tell you they won it in 23 years - and I say that because, I don't know if my class won it in 1988 or not.  I don't know if The Dad knows if his class won it in 86...  So for now, it's just fun trivia.

Last night marked the end of us seeing Ferris basketball games.  That's it.  Poof.  It's over.  Yes, Ferris has another game or two in the playoffs coming to them - but now that it's districts and my GSL card won't get me in the door - I'm not as likely to attend them.  And next year - I have no need to buy the GSL cards.  So, last night marked the end of 8 years of buying that card.  Poof - again.  

I'm feeling a bit nostalgic at this moment, knowing that it's gone, what it's all been like - good and bad and am a touch saddened.  But it's only a moment before I think...

"Right on!  Move on!  Let's Goooooo!"