Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Confessional - Holidays Edition Part Deux

So I am back in the hotel, exhausted and totally roller coastered out. I can't handle the thrill rides anymore you guys. I spend the whole time fearing for my life or worried sick my kids are not strapped in tight enough or imagining plunging to my death due to a seatbelt harness malfunction or whatever. Kinda takes the "amusement" out of the amusement park. That's why I love Disneyland. Those rides are just my style. As a matter of fact, I plan to write a whole post about why Disneyland kicks every other park's ass. Just you wait!

(Oh and by the way Little Miss Stacey, my spelling errors would not be so bad if freaking blogger would bring spellcheck back. What. The. Flip??? And also I am typing this on my netbook and the keyboard is micro. And I have a broken ass and am in pain. So stop criticizing me, sheesh!)

So more confessions for your reading enjoyment....

I didn't finish my shopping and wrapping until Christmas Eve.

I am so disappointed in myself over my lack of organization this year. I feel a little like a failure.

I spent two hours putting Boo's Barbie Dream House together and then playing with it. Only I didn't notice when she started playing the Wii with her brothers and left me by myself playing with the Dream House.

Just like Ralphie at the end of The Christmas Story, tucked into bed, peacefully sleeping with his Red Rider BB Gun, I seriously considered sleeping with my arms wrapped around my new Coach purse and boots. And leopard print gloves.

I may have cried and/or peed a little in my pants while riding the Silver Bullet (stop snickering, get your minds out of the gutter and focus people) at Knotts. And also the Supreme Scream. And El Revelucion. (Yes it's supposed to be in espanol.)

I may have threatened all three of my children and one of Dee's when they wouldn't stop touching everything they saw. It wasn't that bad, I only told them I would pull them out of the store by their ears and make them stand in the middle of the park in their underwear if they didn't knock it off.

I am totally okay with taking an adults only vacation every year.

I am so looking forward to going home tomorrow! Even though I know I have 5 duffel bags of laundry and a mess leftover from Christmas morning, there is no place like home. Plus I have a freezer full of Uberman's Nana's tamales. Score!

Confessional - The Holidays Edition!

So this is gonna be a quick post but I feel guilty I have not posted in weeks but it's the holidays and I am busy and I am actually on vacation right now with my family at Knotts Berry Farm which means I have been riding roller coasters and eating fried chicken and biscuits with guess what???? Knotts Berry Farm strawberry preserves. Which explains the sugar rush, doesn't it??

So on with the confessions!

Lat Wednesday was Christmas Eve Eve, and after work I opened a bottle of wine while I wrapped presents (stop judging, my kids were at my mom's, okay?). Well I would take a sip, wrap a little, take another sip, maybe top it off, tie some bows . . . and the next thing you know . . . I had consumed an enite bottle of wine by myself. And I was SLOSHED.

Which leads to my next confession.... In my wine and wrapping paper induced stupor, I may or may not have slipped down my stairs and broken my ass. Which is not convenient when you are spending seven hours in a car the day after Christmas to drive to Knotts Berry Farm. And is not convenient when you are riding rides that bounce you around like a bouncy ball.

Because of the broken ass, I make a very funny noise when getting up from a seated position. I sound a little like a seal?? A walrus?? Some kind of water inhabiting mammal. It is not good.

Did I mention I am in pain? A lot of pain? Because I broke my drunk ass?? So I am a little grumpy?? And I may have yelled at the carousel operator because he was taking way tooooo long to start up the mother freaking carousel? And  Boo insisted I ride the horse next to hers? And do you have any idea how uncomfortable a fake plastic horse is when you have a broken ass??

Too be continued... Going back to the park....

Saturday, December 19, 2009

10 songs that make me want to shake my Jingle Bells....

(Can we start this post off by acknowledging that yeah, I have not posted in a week. I'm aware. I am not dead or missing or kidnapped or trapped underneath a pile of wrapping paper and ribbon. I'm actually, as usual, going about my days with my head up my ass trying to ignore the fact that it is Christmas and I have a hundred million trillion things to do. But it's so cozy up there.)

So where were we?? Oh yeah. Songs that make me want to shake my Jingle Bell... (Please note: Some of these are bad. Like embarrassing bad.)

1. "All I Want for Christmas" by Mariah Carey - I know. Did you not read the note above? But I can't help it, I love this song and I sing along at the top of my lungs. And it is amazing, there is something about being alone in my car that helps me hit those high notes. I am incredibly talented.

2. "Last Christmas" by Wham - I know most of you hate it. But I think it's magic. And that's all that matters.

3. "12 Days of Christmas" by Reliant K - Just so you know, I only like this version. This song is freaking annoying, but I like this band's spin on it.

4. "Jingle Bells" by Frank Sinatra - Mmmmm love me some Sinatra. I love this peppy version so much that I can even forgive the fact that they spell the words Jingle Bells. Normally I am not a fan of songs where spelling is involved, I find them insulting. But Frank can do what he wants, I'm not gonna argue.

5. "Baby, It's Cold Outside" by Dean Martin (I also like the Rod Stewart/Dolly Parton version) - I know this song has nothing to do with Christmas, but that's really the only time we get to hear it. And I love it. It makes my heart happy. 

6. "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" by Ronnie Spector & Darlene Love - I don't know why I love it so much, I just do. Okay?

7. "Please Come Home for Christmas" by Jon Bon Jovi - Not a huge Bon Jovi fan, but I think this song is sweet and I like the retro feel of it.

8. "Let it Snow" by Michael Buble - Yes, I love him. I'm a sucker for a crooner.

9. "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" by Andy Williams or Johnny Mathis (I like both)  -  I love this song and I always want to hear it when I am Christmas shopping. It's like that song that you want to hear to get you through the last few minutes of your workout. Or so I hear. Anyway, it gives me that burst of energy I need to get it all done. It's like the musical version of a Red Bull for me.

10. "The Christmas Waltz" by Harry Connick, Jr. - Oh how I love this song. So much that last week I listened to it on repeat all the way to work. It's so beautiful.

So those are my songs. They don't have to be yours. And if you want to read The Boy's hilarious, explicit, anti-Christmas song post that will make you laugh your Jingle Bells off - click here.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

10 Christmas songs that make me want to throw myself over the freeway overpass....

If, at some point during this Holiday Season, you see my guts splattered all over the Loop 101 Freeway, this is why:

1. O Holy Night by Josh Groban - I don't know what it is about Josh. I am just not a fan. And the "holiday station" we have here in Phoenix plays this song at least once every 5 minutes. O Holy Something Else. Enough already.

2. Feliz Navidad by Celine Dion - I am sorry but there is something wrong with an over dramatic French Canadian belting out a song in Spanish. Frankly, it pisses me off.

3. Merry Christmas Darling by The Carpenters - I have hated this song since I was child. Why does she sing so slowly and over anunciate every word? Is it the lack of nutrition? The lack of energy? Whatever it is, I will starve myself right here and now if I never have to hear that song again. (I know. I'm totally going to hell for making anorexia jokes. Not funny.)

4. I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus by Jessica Simpson - Obviously this was recorded when she still thought she was so cute. I can't stand how she doesn't pronounce the "r" sound in beard. Makes me want to sceam.

5. Sleigh Ride by Debbie Gibson - "It's Deborah Gibson, by the way." Thank you Ubes. I don't care if it's Debbie, Deborah, Deb or Dumb Dumb. She killed this song for me.

6. Happy Xmas by John Lennon & the Plastic Ono Band - You know that part in the chorus where you can hear Yoko whining singing "A very Merry Christmuuusssss, and a Happy New Yearrrrrrrr...." Well, I just figured out a few years ago that was her. That's how dumb I am. All this time I thought he had gotten like a bus load of special needs kids and invited them into the studio. Seriously, how did he think she was a good singer?

7. Caroling, Caroling by Natalie Cole - This song gets stuck in you head like a tumor. Ding Dong, Ding Dong! Somebody pass the Tylenol.

8. Favorite Time of Year by Kenny Rogers - It's everyone's favorite time Kenny. Get over yourself. Go back to your card game and leave Christmas to those who know it best - Bing Crosby, Andy Williams and the lovely boys of Wham. Thank you for your cooperation.

9. Christmas Time is Here by The Peanuts Gang - Is it just me or is this the most depressing song ever? All sad and melancholy. Whenever I hear it I want to start popping prozac. And then go skating on the thinnest ice covering a lake in the middle of no where. All alone. 

10. Joy to the World by Mariah Carey - It's just too much. Too over the top. Too loud. Too much screeching. Too much choir. Too Las Vegas or something. I find no joy. None.

And just relax, tomorrow I will be doing my list of songs that make me want to dance around in a Santa suit mini dress and go go boots. (Dude, if you're going to shake your ass in a Santa suit mini dress you have to have the boots. And fishnets. Duh.)(Does Spanx make a fishnet? Anyone?)(Oh you know I am so looking that up right now on The Google.)

Monday, December 7, 2009

Baking with Nana

Boo came home with a project for us to work on today. She was asked to make a poster detailing her favorite Holiday Tradition and she chose baking cookies with my mom.

We went through my scrapbooking supplies and found die cuts of Christmas trees and snowmen and snowflakes. We found fun holiday stickers, and even stickers with cookies and mixing bowls and spatulas and stuff.

"Okay Boo," I told her, "Now all we need is the cookie recipe."

"I don't know the recipe," she said. "But I do know we need lots of wine."

Awesome.

Friday, December 4, 2009

This is what happens when you jumble up the words Counterfeit and Duplicate.

So I was at work yesterday and apparently I was a little preoccupied with the fact that my husband may or may not have been kidnapped, I mean a situation like that does kind of impair your ability to focus, am I right? But this client came in and was asking me about possibly purchasing travelers checques.

Now first off I am not a fan of travelers checques. Mainly for the reason that they are a ginormous pain in the ass to give or receive. So I ask him where he is traveling to and he says Hawaii.

Hawaii. Really? You need travelers checques to go to Hawaii?

Whatever.

Anyway, I am really good at not selling them. Because they are such a ginormous pain in the ass and all. My secret is to list all the cons and make it sound like you would rather get travelers diarrhea than carry around these tiny booklets of paper. I start by telling him there is a 3% fee to purchase them. And then I tell him how many merchants no longer accept them and they are really an outdated form of payment blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda. The easiest way to pay for things while travelling is to use your Visa debit card as a credit transaction. No fees, plus you'll earn points towards your rewards. See? A win win. Now dude, please get out of here so I can go back to trying to track down my missing spouse. Sheesh.

Now this is where the distracted part comes in..

Ahem.

He asks me why don't many merchants accept them anymore.

So I, being the articulate sales person that I am, explain . . .

"Merchants don't accept them because they are so easy to fornicate."

Uh-huh. FORNICATE. I really said that. Out loud. To a CLIENT. Yeah. Awesome.

So of course, right away I clear my throat, giggle a little and say:

"I'm sorry. Coun-ter-feit. They are very easy to counterfeit. So . . . um . . . yeah. That's why." Next my face turned about 8 shades of hot pink and then I died.

Luckily the guy was foreign, so I think the language barrier was already an issue. He just nodded and agreed it would be easier to use his debit card.

And yes, much easier than fornicating with all those merchants. Good Lord. This is my real life, people. Welcome. Please, make yourselves at home.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

The Uberman Conspiracy

So for about an hour and twenty minutes today I was 98% sure Uberman had been kidnapped. Or his phone had been stolen. Which is just as bad and would piss me off royally because it's brand new, like one week old, and he just had to have some fancy phone that costs seventy bajillion dollars and then wouldn't let me get one too. Rude. But I was definitely leaning more towards the kidnapped idea only because he also did not respond to an email I sent him asking if he had been kidnapped. Again - RUDE!

At about 1:00 this afternoon I received a very cryptic text from him. It was just a phone number. A phone number not belonging to either of us or anyone we know. Weird, right? So I texted him back.

What is this? Whose number is this? Why are you texting me a phone number?

And I waited. No response. I sent another text a few minutes later.

"What's up with this number?"

Nothing.

Okay. Hmmmmm.... Why would he text me a random phone number? Maybe he was trying to text it to someone else and he sent it to me by mistake? Maybe he wants me to call him at this number? Maybe it's a clue?? Oh My GOD. Maybe he has been kidnapped and this is the number of his attacker or the place where they are hiding him!

I sent him another text.

Babe. Are you okay? Where are you? Have you been kidnapped? Taken against your will??

Nothing. No response. Which only added to my certainty that he had indeed been kidnapped and of course was unable to respond because he was all blind folded and tied up and the kidnappers had taken his bajillion dollar phone and were using it to play Bejeweled. Which duh, I totally would too. But still.

Or maybe his phone was just dead? So I called it. It rang 4 times and went to voice mail. Which proved it was not dead because when the phone is dead it doesn't ring, the call just goes to voice mail. Ha ha HA!! I totally should have been a detective.

I called the number he texted me. And while it rang I tried to think of what I would say if someone answered.

"Hi, um . . . I am not sure . . . but I think you have kidnapped my husband and he is stashed in your trunk . . . and um . . . we have no money for ransom but I suppose I could give you his new phone and a gently used Coach purse, but only the ugly one I never use anymore, and I think there may be a half eaten bag of M&M's in there and you can totally have those too, just . . . um . . . please give me my husband back?? Kaythanksbye."

Or... If someone answered I could just hang up?

But instead, I got one of those automated messages from the wireless carrier telling me they were out of service range.

Oh just great. They are taking him to the mountains or something. This is so not good. Because first of all he is not a camper. I mean at all. And secondly, he is allergic to trees and stuff. And third, he really hates it when he can't watch ESPN. And I highly doubt this compound in the forrest has cable. He's gonna be so pissed.

But.... What if he hasn't been kidnapped and his phone is just in the car?? Which has totally happened in the past and once again, is just plain rude. He should at least be able to respond to an email. So I sent this email:

You sent me a strange text and now you are not responding to me and you know how I am. So now I am thinking you are kidnapped and that is the phone number of your attacker. So I called it and it said the Cricket customer you are trying to reach is unavailable. So what the heck? Are you okay? Are you kid-nap-id? Because oh my god babe I just can't handle this so close to the holidays and you haven't helped me put up the tree yet and I can't lift it by myself. Plus you promised you were going to get the ladder from the garage when you saw me climbing over the bannister to get on the plant shelf thingy but you still haven't brought it in and now how am I going to plug in the lights and garland on the bannister without the ladder after you forbade me from climbing on the plant shelf thingy ever again?? I mean, dude, seriously. So, if you could schedule your kidnappings for a more convenient time that would be great. Thanks.

Okay, if he doesn't respond in a few minutes it definitely means he has been kidnapped. So I waited. And waited. And usually when I send him a bunch of texts and a crazy email he gets back to me right away because he knows my imagination runs wild and I will just keep texting/calling/emailing until the cows come home.

But no. Nothing. It's been like an hour since the last text he sent me. He could be half way to Flagstaff by now. And Flagstaff sucks.

I texted him again:

Babe. Seriously. This is not funny. Where are you?

Nothing.

Ube R. Man!! You better text me back like PRONTO or I am gonna sound so stupid calling the police for a maybe missing person. And you know how I hate to look bad.

Five minutes or so go by. And then, my phone vibrates on the counter. Finally, a text from him!

I'm ok.

Ummmmm . . .  really?? That's it?? After all that, this is the text I get back?? WTF?

And then I thought, maybe it's his attacker! He took a break from playing Bejeweled and is trying to pass off a text like it's from Ubes, sort of throw me off the trail. Well I am not falling for that. I am on to you, kidnapper!

I text him back.

Really? You are okay? What's the password? 

Two seconds later:

(Secret Password)(Of course I can't reveal the secret password because, duh, then everyone will know it and next time he gets kidnapped for real, the kidnappers can trick me! Always thinking ahead my friends, always thinking ahead.)

Me:

You scared the crap out of me. What was with the phone number?

Ubes:

You are funny Babe. I saw a really nice El Camino for sale. I wanted to make sure I had the phone number so I can call on it later.

Uuuuuuummmmmmmm?????? WHAT?????

Now let's sit here and count how many things are wrong with this situation.

1. EL CAMINO??? Like, for real?? FOR REAL??? 
2. I was planning to pay his ransom with his new phone, an ugly used Coach purse and a half eaten bag of M&M's. EL CAMINO??? Are you kidding me??
3. Stop wasting my text message inbox with your junk! I am not a secretary!
4. You have two unfinished project cars in the garage.
5. El Camino?????????????

So let me tell you all a little something. The moral of the story here is this -  If he comes home with an El Camino, he is going to wish he had been kidnapped. The end.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

The Queen goes to the doctor...

Doc: So what brings you in today?
Me (whispering): I have a rash.
Doc: Why are you whispering?
Me: Because rashes freak people out.
Doc: But we are the only two people in the room.
Me: I know, but still.
Doc: So when did it start?
Me: A few weeks ago. But then I showed it to my mom and MIL on Thanksgiving and they totally freaked me out and then I looked up rashes on Web MD and now I am convinced it's something really bad and I'm gonna die.
Doc (shaking head and sighing): April, stop looking at Web MD. I know I have talked to you about this before.
Me: Oh come on! You have a million patients! How do you know we have talked about this before? You could have told anyone that!
Doc: Because I specifically remember the last time you were here two years ago you thought you had throat cancer because of Web MD and it was just strep.
Me: So. That's a common mistake, right?
Doc: And then I told you it was strep and you inisisted it was Bird Flu.
Me: Whatever. You are confusing me with someone else.
Doc: Stop looking at Web MD. Okay?
Me: Do you want to see my rash or what?
Doc: Let's see it.
Me (lifting my sleeve): See, it started under my arm, but now it's on my legs and belly.
Doc (bending closer): Hmmmmm...
Me (raising voice): What does that mean?? Hmmmmm? Oh my God. Is it cancer? It's cancer, isn't it?? Web MD said it might be. Am I going to need chemo? Will I lose my hair? Because my friend Sarah is going to invite me to a hair party and I think I want to grow it out because I am so sick of this style and I really want it a little longer, not shorter. Not non existent. And wigs are just so yuck. But I do look pretty awesome in a hat. But still, I like having hair. Oh my God, this is awful. What? Why are you looking at me like that?
Doc: I think you are overreacting.
Me: That's because you don't know my friend Sarah and you haven't seen her hair. It's fabulous. Like, amazingly fabulous. If you saw it you would totally understand why I need to go to this hair party. Are you on Facebook? I could send you a picture.
Doc: I think you're going to live. It's just a rash.
Me: Really? Just a rash?? So how did I get it?
Doc: Hard to say. Have you recently changed detergents?
Me: No.
Doc: Bath soap?
Me: Nope.
Doc: Fabric Softener?
Me: No. I don't like change. I tend to be pretty brand loyal.
Doc: Well, it could be from an animal. A pet.
Me: I don't have any pets.
Doc: Sometimes you can get rashes from the gym. Sharing towels and stuff. Dirty gym equipment.
Me: Do I look like I go to the gym?
Doc: Well then there's no way to tell where you got it. I'm going to give you a topical steroid for the inflamation. And a pretty strong antihistamine for the itching. It will help you sleep at night without all the scratching.
Me: Wow. How did you know I was scratching at night? You're like a soothsayer or something.
Doc: Um no, I can see marks from your fingernails.
Me: Oh. Am I contagious? You know Uberman is going to freak out. He's kind of a germaphobe.
Doc: Don't you think that's the pot calling the kettle black?
Me: Whatever dude. Whose side are you on?
Doc: (shakes head)
Me: Can we tell him I'm allergic to my birth control and the only cure is for him to get a vasectomy?
Doc: Um, you are on your own there honey.
Me: Seriously? You aren't going to help me out here?
Doc: I'm going to give you medication to help clear up your rash. This antihistamine is no joke. Take it only at night and don't drive or operate heavy machinery after you take it.
Me: Heavy machinery? Seriously? Does a Kitchen Aid mixer count? Because I am having a party on Saturday and I need to bake.
Doc (rolling eyes): Bye April. I'll see you in two weeks if it doesn't clear up. (Turns to leave the room)
Me: If? What do you mean if? Why wouldn't it clear up? Oh my God. Could it be more than a rash? Are you not telling me something? Hello??
Doc: Bye April.
Nurse: Here are your prescriptions. The doctor would like to know if you need one for anti-anxiety as well?
Me: No. Why would he say that?
Nurse (smiling): What about Uberman? Do you think he needs something?
Me: You people think you are so funny. All high and mighty in your scrubs and lab coats. Whatever. Do you hear me? Whatever!
Nurse: Happy Holidays April! Hope your rash clears up.
Me: Oh now you're just being mean.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Confession Vol. IX - The End of BloMoFo Edition

Well I did it. Thirty posts in thirty days. I'm such a bad ass.

And honestly, I loved it this year. Even though I was tired and some posts totally sucked and some got in just under the wire, I loved it. I loved talking to you guys every day. And I feel like this totally got me back into the swing of things as far as writing and being creative. And I need that. My soul needs that.

And I can't promise to continue posting every day because oh my holy heck you should see the pile of laundry and dust bunnies that are piling up around this joint. It's disgusting. CPS is going to send in a SWAT team to take my kids.

But I do want to post more. And I feel like the pressure is off to post something awesome each time. I said in the beginning, this blog is for me. It's a place for me to vent and celebrate and complain and praise and just get all the crap out of my head. I think I have done a pretty good job of staying true to me this month. If you don't want to read it, you don't have to.

But I appreciate all of you who do. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart!

And now, for your reading enjoyment, Confessional Monday!

(thunderous applause!)

Sometimes I still don't know the difference between "upload" and "download."

Furthermore, I never know if it's a forward slash or a back slash. I think it's a matter of perspective. I mean really, who is the person that decided leaning to the left is forward slash? Or is that one back slash? I really don't know. I think it's confusing and I can't be alone in this.

Last week I wrote a guest post for Uberman's secret blog. And it ROCKED. It was a work of art and I am super bummed I can't link it here.

If I could, I would eat cake for breakfast everyday. The only reason I don't is because it is socially unacceptable and I care too much about what other people think. My cake for breakfast aversion has absolutely nothing to do with the inappropriate amount of fat and calories I would consume each day resulting in my ass being the size of Tex-ass. My fear of being scrutinized by others is greater than my fear of being fat(ter).

In 5 days, Ubes and I are hosting our annual Christmas Hunko Drunko Bunco and there is no indication we are getting ready for a party whatsoever. And yet I am not worried. I have my head up my bumhole as usual.

I have decided to go back to school next semester. I am going to be a pretty kick ass English teacher in a few years.

Goodnight Dear Readers! Thank you for making my day!



Sunday, November 29, 2009

Snow

I miss the snow.

When I moved to Arizona so many years ago I never thought in a million years I would ever say those words. But every year at Christmas time, I feel like something is missing.

I don't miss the cold. I don't miss the gray skies. I don't miss the scary driving conditions. I don't miss the patches of ice or shoveling the sidewalk or putting 900 pounds of clothes on to go outside.

I miss that first snowfall. How you wake up one morning and your entire world is covered in that soft white, sparkling blanket. I miss the quiet that comes with crystal snow flakes falling to the ground. I miss walking across that untouched whiteness and the crunching sound beneath my feat. I miss how it makes you anxious for Christmas.

I think it's sad that my kids don't know what they are missing. Even Uberman has never had a white Christmas. I mean, yes we can wear shorts and t-shirts while we are decorating our tree and stringing lights on our cactus. We don't have to put chains on our tires or sprinkle salt on the sidewalks. We don't have to sit in the driveway for 20 minutes while the car warms up or scrape ice off the windshield.

But still... This time of year is not the same.

I miss the snow.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

More about me

What I am
tired, funny, sarcastic, inappropriate at times, addicted to diet ginger ale, anxious, hungry, looking forward to the holidays, missing my bff Dee, pissed at Kristen for her unbeatable Bejeweled score, forgetful, itchy to go on a proper date with my Ubes, overwhelmed by laundry, loud, excited to wear my new $15 sweater from Old Navy, observant, intuitive, thinking a hot shower will make my stuffy head and burning chest feel better, loyal, protective, wondering if I have the energy to put the garland on my banister tonight.

What I am not
shy, tolerant, magic, interested in cars, focused, a person who likes fish, afraid of crowds, someone who holds back, good with money, disciplined, tall, a good sleeper, shallow, careful with my words, happy with the shape of my eyebrows, someone who asks for help easily, ready for my babies to grow up, closed minded.

What I wish I were
a college graduate, a better writer, more patient, accepting, a veggie eater, friends with Kate Winslet, finished with my holiday decorating, more confident with my decision making, a person who enjoyed running, better at sewing.

Friday, November 27, 2009

Black Friday Kicked My Ass

I'm exhausted. I just got home after many many many hours of shopping. And I feel pretty good about all of my amazing deals.

I had a few surreal experiences today. First and most exciting, I made one of my dreams come true today. I bought my daughter the Barbie Dream House. I almost started to cry. For real. I know it sounds silly, but to me it was a pretty big deal.

When I was little, I wanted that Barbie Dream House so badly. My cousin Rhonda had it and I was so jealous I wanted to spit nails. I had a doll house, and it was nice. But it wasn't the Barbie Dream House with the three stories and a working elevator that you pulled with a string. When I had my baby girl, I imagined all the fun girly things I could introduce to her. Glittery bling, hair bows, earrings and jewelry, baby dolls and princesses and pink stuff. And of course, Barbies. Yeah, I know. Barbie is kind of a whore now, but really, who isn't? I'm not gonna judge. Oh I can't wait to play, um I mean, watch Boo play with her new Barbie Dream House!

The second surreal moment of the day: I ran into that nasty woman who fell in my house again. I know! What the heck? I think she saw me this time, but I looked away. But gee whiz, twice in one week? This is definitely not the week to buy a lottery ticket.

The third surreal moment: I ran into one of Uberman's ex-girlfriends. And that my friends, was awesome. She looked like crap. And kept making excuses for looking like crap. Which was awesomer. And guess what else? She has a huge ass. And hey, don't judge me. You know she is home right now telling her husband she saw me and I have a big ass, too. But at least I left the house looking pretty adorable and wearing makeup. I know. I am totally going to hell. Oh but you should have seen her! Hanging all over my MIL and "Oh it's so good to see you! I think of you so often!" Excuse me while I dry heave.

And it was right about then that I called it a day. And now I am home, in my jammies, and trying to relax a little. I am tired. Dog tired. Black Friday dog tired.

But happy. And looking forward to the holiday season! Decorating tomorrow, woo hoo!

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Shopping!

My favorite holiday of the year is upon us. Naturally I am talking about Black Friday.

So here I am, at my MIL's, full from turkey and potatoes and pumpkin pie. We have the ads spread out on the table in front of us. Each of us taking notes about where the best sales are. Preparing our game plan. In a few minutes we are all going to do some stretches to limber up. Gotta bring our A game.

The mall open at midnight. We are so there.

Be prepared, Black Friday. We are coming with a vengeance!

I just need about 8 cups of coffee first.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Thanksgiving Eve

I am thankful for....

My amazing Uberman. He's my best friend, my heart and soul, my biggest fan and my motivation for being a better person. I love this man to infinity and beyond.

The three greatest children to walk the earth. I know everyone thinks their kids are great, but mine really are. They are smart, funny, kind, sarcastic and gorgeous. Everything that is important. Yeah, they are picky eaters and can't put anything away to save their lives, but I wouldn't trade them for the world.

My family. I am seriously a lucky girl to have such kick ass parents and in-laws, and an amazing extended family that I would also call friends.

My friends. The people I go to in times of need. The girls who loan me books, share recipes, make me laugh, invite me to drink margaritas, give advice, share secrets, send me text messages to check on me. These are the people who make it fun to be a girl.

I am thankful to God for all His blessings in my life. And most of all for helping me to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Just when I am beginning to doubt my faith, something will happen to restore it. He never leaves, never forsakes.

I am thankful for my comfy bed, Strongbow Cider, Daniel Craig, my favorite movies, my favorite music, my new cell phone with super cute hot pink metallic case, ginger ale, Sonic, cookies from Paradise Bakery, Disneyland, whomever invented chocolate with caramel, kind strangers who pay for my diet coke, Josh Kelley, clients who bring me smoothies, Old Navy velour pajama bottoms, Burberry London perfume, Christmas Cookie Yankee Candles, Black Friday, Jennifer Weiner, Joel McHale and the entire cast of Community, Peppermint Rush Chapstick, and every single person who reads this blog.

You people are crazy.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

The Kindness of Strangers

This morning I stopped at McDonald's on my way to work for a delicious refreshing beverage. There was only one car ahead of me so I waited patiently, singing along loudly to Leona Lewis and "Happy." Totally oblivious to the fact my window was rolled down. I was concentrating on my harmonies, you know?

Anyhoots, I ordered my large Diet Coke, declined the Egg McMuffin and zipped around to the window to pay. I was still digging in my wallet for the eight cents in tax when the girl working the drive thru says "Um, do you, like know that guy in the car in front of you?"

I glanced up at the back end of a white minivan. Didn't recognize the car, but I could see the driver's reflection in the side mirror. Didn't recognize him either. He looked like a nice guy, maybe early to late forties, glasses, conservative. Definitely a republican. Probably a dad, a husband, a dog owner. A golfer, for sure. Definitely a dude who took pride in his landscaping. And even though I couldn't see his feet, I would bet ten dollars he was wearing loafers. Nice ones.

I turned back to the McDrive Thru chick. "Nope. I have no idea who he is."

"Oh," she said, wrinkling her nose a little. "Well, um, he like paid for your drink."

"What?" I asked, looking back toward the van. "Why?"

"Don't know," she said, and closed the window.

I stared at the van in front of me. Maybe he was a client. Or a friend of my dad's. Or maybe he just really dug my singing. But most likely he was just a really nice person trying to do a good deed for the day. I gave my horn a little tap to get his attention and he looked at me through his rearview mirror.

"Thank you!!" I said as I waved and flashed a big smile. He smiled back and drove off.

I have no idea who this man was, but he made my day. Tomorrow, I am going to do the same for someone else. And you should do it, too!

Monday, November 23, 2009

Let bygones be bygones

I play bunco. It's a dice game. Stop making fun of it, it's fun. Basically, a group of  12 women get together each month to play the game and have a good time. It requires a lot of skill and commitment and I kick ass at it. Okay so that is not entirely true. But it does require some commitment. I have been in my current bunco group for three years. These women are my heart and soul, some of my closest friends on the planet and I value each and every one of them for her own uniqueness. Yes that totally is too a word.

However, I got into bunco through a different group. We'll call them my starter group. My SIL invited me, and she got into it through a neighbor. It was a fun group, but other than my SIL, I did not know any of these women prior to joining the starter group. I was with this group for 5 years and I thorougly enjoyed it. I was closer to some of the women more than others, but I genuinely enjoyed going each month and looked forward to an evening laughing and talking with these women I had become friends with.

And then disaster struck.

I was hosting bunco at my house with my starter group three years ago. It was the first time I had hosted since I had moved and I was very excited for people to see my new house. The girls arrived, took a tour of the house, oohed and aahed and said really nice things. We ate and then played the game. This whole process took maybe three hours. At the end of the evening, as everyone was getting ready to leave, one of the women fell in my entry way. I have a small tiled step down about ten feet from the front door. She was carrying a box, couldn't see the step and just toppled over, twisting her ankle in the process.

We all gathered around her, trying to help her up, assessing the damage to her ankle, asking if she was okay, etc. She claimed she could not get up, but refused my suggestion to call an ambulance. Ubes carried her out to one of the girls' cars, and they whisked her off to urgent care.

I called her the next day to see how she was doing. She acted very strange on the phone, but told me she had a sprained ankle and a bruised knee. I asked her if she needed anything and she said no. But then she said that I might want to consider changing my tile. Excuse me? She said she fell because she couldn't see the step due to the tile being so uniform in color and the entryway being so poorly lit. I assumed she was kidding and started to laugh. I reminded her she was carrying a box at the time, and that I had assumed the box had blocked her view of the step. I figured her pain medication was making her delusional so I told her to call me if she needed anything and I hung up. Ubes and I sent her flowers that day. I felt terrible that it had happened in my home, and that the evening had ended the way it did.

A week later the woman called and asked if she could have my homeowners insurance information. She said she was on an 80/20 plan with her medical insurance and because she had fallen in my home, she felt I should be responsible for her 20% coinsurance. I was in shock. If she had tripped over a faulty tile or a bunch of toys, I would understand. If she had slipped on a wet spot on the floor or if a piece of my ceiling had fallen and knocked her to the floor, I would totally get it. If I had pushed her bony little ass to the floor and stepped on her ankle myself, I could see how she would expect me to be responsible. But she was carrying a box, misjudged the step and fell. She was trying to blame me because she was dumbass.

I gave her the information she needed. Two weeks later an insurance adjustor came to my home to interview me and take pictures of "the scene of the accident." During that interview I found out many inconsistencies between her story and what really happened. I was devastated. I could never in a million years understand how a friend could come into your home and take advantage in such a way. She was trying to file an injury claim. She wanted her medical and lost wages reimbursed, along with damages for pain and suffering.

Needless to say, I quit that bunco group. I couldn't run the risk of another person tripping over a dust bunny and filing a law suit. I realize this is one of the reasons we have homeowners insurance, but still. In my opinion she crossed the line. She saw an opportunity and took advantage of it.

Tonight, I stopped at Walgreens to get some decongestants for Uberman. The parking lot was packed, but I went in anyway. The line at the pharmacy was 15 people deep (yes, I totally counted), so I turned to leave. As I walked down one of the aisles toward the front door, I saw her. The woman who fell. She was standing at one of the endcaps looking at Christmas decorations.

I briefly thought about greeting her. I briefly thought about asking her how her family was doing, if she was playing bunco and still experiencing pain in that troublesome ankle. I briefly thought about telling her how I cringed every time a guest was leaving and how I constantly reminded people to watch the killer step that jumps out of nowhere. I briefly thought about telling her how I had changed all my lightbulbs in the house to fluorescents so it was no longer "poorly lit." I briefly thought about smacking her upside her overprocessed blonde head while threatening to sue her for mental anguish and remibursement for all that Pepto and Tylenol PM I needed during that ordeal. I briefly thought about kicking her weak feet out from under her and stomping on her other ankle so she would have a matching set.

But that's not what Jesus would have done.

So I turned the other cheek and walked out to my car hoping she hadn't seen me. And while I briefly thought about running my key down the side of her car as I crossed the parking lot, instead I prayed for her. I asked God to help her find peace and happiness to fill the gaping void in her ugly black heart. And then I asked Him to give her an excruciating case of explosive diarrhea right there in the middle of Walgreens.

And this is one of those moments where I truly want to believe God gives you the desires of your heart.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Some things I'm just not that into...

1. The hype over the new Twilight movie: Yeah, I know. I read the books. Well, I read 3 and a half of the books. I quit the last one because I couldn't stand it anymore. All the drama over a big vampire civil rights battle. I am pretty sure the author sold her soul to Satan and now they are brainwashing the world with pretty boys who sparkle and shape shift into dirty dogs. So dumb.

2. Farmville on Facebook: Seriously don't get what is fun about fake farming. At least when you are really farming you get to eat and sell the fruits of your labor. But trust me, real farming is hard and not that fun. I've done it so I know. Well I watched my grandma do it and that's almost the same. She said it was hard and I believed her. She also said "Do as I say, not as I do." And I was scared of her so I listened. So no fake farming for me.

3. Glee: I know, everyone is so in love with this show. And I really just don't get it. I watched it once and I thought it was just okay. And then I tried to watch it again and I lasted maybe 8 minutes before I realized it was geared towards 14 year old girls and 18 year old uber gays. (Which, dude, I totally love the gay guys, but we don't have the same tastes in music. Remember, I'm not a Streisand fan either.)

4. Football: I don't get this game. I have tried and tried and tried and I just don't. I don't understand how the "downs" work and I don't understand why it's so much fun to watch a bunch of grown men get up, fall down, gather around and pray over the ball, and then start all over again. And I think the cheerleaders are stupid. What a complete waste of money these women are.

5. The Kardashians: Why are these people in the news all the time? Why does anyone care what they are doing, whom they are sleeping with or what they are wearing? The world would be a much better place if the entire family was banished to the moon. And they took the enire cast of the Hills with them.

6. Most of the Thanksgiving side dishes: Yams, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce? Blech. You know what I dislike the most? That nasty jello salad with the marshmallows. Disgusting. Just give me the basics: Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, maybe some corn and big yummy roll. Then I'll have the pumpkin pie with cool whip, not that nasty stuff that comes out of a can. If that is all there is, then no thank you. There is no point eating pumpkin pie without cool whip. 

7. Finding a parking space at Costco: I am pretty sure there is some kind of supernatural energy field type vortex thing surrounding the Costco parking lot. As soon as your car enters, you turn into either a complete idiot or an impatient asshole. I'll be honest, I have been both.

8. This congestion/sore throat/on the brink of a cold thing I have going on: It's seriously wiping me out. And pissing me off at the same time. I don't feel like I have the full blown cold yet, I am just on the verge. I have had that achy "I feel I am getting sick" feeling on and off for two months. I wish it would just take hold or hit the road and infect someone else. It's worse than dry heaving.

9. My current work situation: I love my job. I love most of my clients and most of the people I work with. I can do without some of the other BS that goes on. Managing people through fear is ridiculous. I want a job where I can come to work, do the best I can while I am there, and be recognized for my hard work. I don't want to play games. Junior high school sucked the first time I went through it. I have no interest in a repeat performance.

10. My homeowners association: Seriously, I don't think these people have anything better to do than drive around and criticize other people. Our grass is too yellow. Um, hello? It's almost winter. Grass dies. Yes, it's sad, but it's all part of the circle of life. If we don't have to plant winter grass, we aren't gonna. It's called trying to save money. You should look into it, instead of paying some jack ass a salary to drive around the neighborhood in a golf cart looking for weeds and measuring the height of my trees. Mmmmkay? And don't tell me when I can put my Christmas lights up. I will do it as soon as I want to and when it is convenient for me. I will keep them turned off until Thanksgiving night, but they are going on the house now. So suck it. And if you send me one more letter I am going to spell out "Kiss my ass" on my roof with white twinkle lights and you will just have to deal with it. So leave me alone and go harrass the lady down the street with the fake deer and bunnies in her yard. So tacky.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Once upon a time there was a bossy girl and a boy who played the drums....

I'm home. The wedding was fabulous. The flower girl is sleeping. And my feet are pissed at me. And since it was a Catholic wedding, I am all set on cardio for the week.

I love weddings. So full of promise and hope and excitement for the future. I got very emotional during the ceremony. This day has been a long time coming, and I am so excited about all of the possibilities that are waiting for them.

So my advice for this new couple, seeing that I have exactly 15 years and six months of marriage under my belt, and am therefore, an expert in all things marriage related....
  • Decide right now where you are spending your holidays.
  • Share the household chores. If she cooks, he should clean up and vice/versa.
  • Set a budget and stick to it.
  • If you disagree, talk it out. If you start holding your feelings in, resentment will build.
  • Listen to each other.
  • If you are wrong, admit it. Say sorry. And mean it.
  • When the fight is over, move on. Don't keep bringing up the past.
  • It's okay to be angry once in a while. But eventually you have to get over it. Set a time limit on it and then move on.
  • Have a date night as often as you can. It's important to spend time together. Maintain your friendship.
  • When you have babies, add them into your life. Don't let them become the center. It's not good for either of you. You were a couple before the babies came and you still need to be a couple when the babies grow up and move away. 
  • Marriage isn't a game, so don't keep score.
  • Appreciate each other's differences. Learn from each other.
  • Laugh. Laugh a lot. 
  • Take turns picking the movie. It will eliminate many arguments in the future. Trust me.
  • When things get difficult (and they will), stand strong together. You will get through it faster if you are a united front.
  • Do what works for you. Some people my not understand your relationship, but it's not their place. Don't let the judgments of others change how you see yourselves.
  • And always, always - compromise. Be fair. Be reasonable. And no pouting when you don't get your way.
Congratulations to The Teacher and The Drummer. I know you will have a long and happy life together. Now go make some babies!



 

Friday, November 20, 2009

Bows

I am exhausted.

Ubes cousin The Teacher is getting married tomorrow. I spent most of the day tying bows on boxes filled with cookies. And let me tell ya something,. Some people can tie bows and some . . . well they just can't. It's a gift.  You either have it or you don't. And baby, I've so got it.

Tonight I am thankful for my husband's amazing family. For his aunt and uncle who are letting me and Boo stay the night so we don't have to drive the fifty miles home and then turn around and come back tomorrow for the wedding. Thankful for my nephews, who kept Boo busy while we tied bows. Thankful fir my SIL and Cousin In Law for helpiong to tie bows. Thankful for Ubes' Nana who makes the most delicious enchiladas and tortillas you have ever tasted.

Thankful for the bride, who is one of my best friends in the world. And thankful for the groom, who makes her so happy.

Tonight I am thankful. Exhausted, but thankful.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Let Them Drink Cake*

Last week my mom sent me a box of her mini rum cakes. It was basically a big box of deliciousness. And I passed some out to coworkers because I am awesome like that.

Just look at them. Not only are they moist and delicious, they are pretty too.




And the key word here is RUM. I have transformed your screen to scratch and sniff. Go ahead, try it.

Can you smell the alcohol chocolate? The roasted nuts? The yummy homemade goodness?

Yes. She does all of this herself with a super secret recipe I am pretty sure she hides in her bra. And she sticks her pinky finger in each one to make it that much sweeter.

Every year I ask her to make some for me so I can give them away as Christmas gifts. The same people get them every single year. And you would think they would be all "April, how about getting us something different this year?" But no. Right about this time, they start calling me, Facebooking me, texting me, etc. "Hi, how are you? What's new? So . . . um . . . when am I getting my rumcake?"

This one is my fave...


Kahlua Chocolate Fudge

But this one is a close second...


Amaretto topped with sliced almonds

And this one is fabulous. And gorgeous...


Grand Marnier (also available with chopped pecans)

Yes. They are that good. She is known for them in her small town. Yeah, she's kind of a big deal. People keep telling her she should make them and sell them, she could be rich.

So it got me thinking.... Maybe I could help her out with this. Maybe this is her true calling, baking rum cakes for the masses. Getting people drunk, one bite at a time. So yeah, that's right, I'm pimping my mom's cakes on my blog. If you are interested in ordering a dozen mini cakes for your holiday festivities, for gifts or for yourself (hey, I'm not gonna judge), shoot me an email at aprilsreignblog at gmail dot com, and we can work something out.

She also makes one called the Drunken Monkey. It's banana. That's right. I said banana. And there's a Pina Colada one too, topped with coconut. You can also order a Plain and Boring one. But we will totally make fun of you if you do. Oh. My. Gluttony. They are so gooooooood.

Oh trust a sister. You can't find anything this fantastic at your local bakery or even Williams Sonoma. You will thank me later. And you are welcome.

*Please note that the title to this post is the slogan my mother uses to sell this bunch homemade goodness. Isn't she clever??? The nut does not fall far from the drunken tree, my friends.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

I win

The Boy watched When Harry Met Sally last night. You can see his review here. You are welcome.

And if you don't want to click on the link I will tell you that I totally predicted what he would say. It was not as bad as he thought and the writing was excellent. I don't care that he hates Meg Ryan and that he thought the acting and directing sucked. My whole point was that the writing was amazing and he agreed. And also that his wife would love it. And she did.

So yay me! And yes, I am totally gloating. I love it when people agree with me. Is there anything more awesome?

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Better

I was so not feeling it today.

I woke up grumpy. Really grumpy. Just pissed off at the world grumpy. And I don't know why. It is so not like me. I am usually one of those annoying people who wake up happy and cheerful. Stop laughing Uberman, I do too.

But not today.

And then to make it worse, I was running late. And then when I came into the kitchen to grab my purse and shuttle the kids out the door I saw my ipod. On. The. Floor. And the screen is totally cracked. And I am mad. Because of course no one knew how my iPod ended up on the floor.

And then when I was driving to work some nasty woman turned in front of me and almost ran me off the road. And of course was completely oblivious to the fact that she almost killed me and totally ticked me off at the same time. And dude, how do you miss me on the road?? I'm driving a big black Yukon. I'm like Godzilla. I actually sat behind her at the light and fantasized about going Jack Nicholson on her windshield with Junior's baseball bat. Road rage much?

When I got to work I cracked open a diet pepsi and took four large gulps. Caffeine and carbonated deliciousness make ever thing better. Briefly, but still.

My day continued downhill. I can't blame other people, it was all me and my sour, foul mood. And I knew it was me. I knew I was being unreasonable with my growling and face making. After lunch, one of my coworkers brought me ice cream.

Cold Stone cake batter with brownies makes everything better.

Then the school nurse called to let me know Junior was sick. Awesome. And neither Ubes or I could leave work at that moment. Awesomer. So I called my lovely MIL. Who dropped everything and went to rescue her grandbaby and take care of him the rest of the afternoon.

Grannies make everything better.

On my way home I cranked up my cracked iPod and sang along to Flo Rida. Because bad hip hop makes everything better.

When I got home I took a long shower and washed the grossness of the day off of me. Because hot water and pink grapefruit body wash make everything better.

And then I snuggled with Boo in her bed while we read "Today I Feel Silly." Because giggles and kisses and a good book make everything better.

Ubes is going to get my iPod fixed. Because Ubes makes everything better. And I need a good night sleep. Because sleep makes everything better.

And tomorrow will be better. I will be better.

Monday, November 16, 2009

My day in a nutshell

Open eyes
Hugs and kisses
Birthday wishes
Short on time
Low tire
Misplaced keys
Caffeine
Grumpy people
Stupid people
Mean people
Slow people
Funny people
Nice people
Sore feet
More caffeine
Slow clock
Rush home
Birthday presents
Mexican food
More caffeine
Baseball game
Freezing cold
Bad calls
Sad players
Quiet drive home
Sleepy kids
Full dishwasher
Final Birthday kiss goodnight
Lame blog post
Shower
Warm bed
and hopefully, Sleep.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Six Pounds

Twelve years ago tomorrow, I gave birth to a six pound baby boy who was not due until two days before Christmas. I had been on bedrest for two weeks due to premature labor, but against my doctor's orders, I went to my baby shower anyway. Oh no, he was not going to stop me from attending a big ole fancy party in my honor with presents and cake and everything. Oh haaay-ell no! And so I went. And when my mom dropped me off at home several hours later, I was standing in the doorway telling her good bye, and she started to cry.

"What is wrong?" I asked.

"I just know this is the last time I will see you pregnant," she said through her tears.

I laughed and hugged her. "You are crazy. We've got six weeks. It's gonna take forever for him to get here."

Early the next morning, around 4:00 am, I rolled over in my sleep and felt this tiny little pop. I felt a slow trickling wetness spreading beneath me. Oh. My. God. I thought. I am peeing my pants. I am seriously wetting the bed. Ubes is gonna be so grossed out. And suddenly I sat up. I was not peeing the bed. I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. "Ubes!! Wake up!! My WATER JUST BROKE!!"

Fourteen hours later, he was born. There was a group of 18 people in the waiting room ready to meet this impatient little monkey. He was the smallest baby I had ever seen in person, still hadn't lost that layer of downy white hair on his body that babies usually lost a month before they are born. But he had dimples. And as far as I was concerned, a golden halo.

This teeny, tiny little boy became my entire world. My whole focus in life was just to keep him alive. He was the one who changed my life forever, the one who made me a mommy. The one who made my dreams come true.

He was my smallest baby, yet today he is almost as tall as I am. He wears a mens size 9 shoe. Twelve years ago I carried him in my arms, today he could carry me. His big blue eyes and huge dimples are small in comparison to his enormous heart. He opens doors for people, gives his seat up for women, offers help to people around him. He is patient with his siblings and kind to his peers. He loves cars, the Yankees, video games and reading books. If you ask him who his heroes are, he will tell you his dad and his Grandpas. He is a straight A student with a sharp mind and a quick wit. He is almost always in a good mood. He is thoughtful and funny, polite and outgoing. He is the most amazing kid and I wish you could all have the pleasure of knowing him.

Happy Birthday Junior. Thank you for making me a mom and a better person. I am the luckiest girl in the world. I love you!!  

Saturday, November 14, 2009

The Yes Man

So I did the whole Yes Man thing today. Aaaaannnd, it really wasn't that big of a deal. I definitely said yes to way more than I normally would, but all in all, it was kind of fun. Forced me to be a little adventurous, I guess you could say.

I started off my day by saying yes to my middle child who asked if he could have a second heaping bowl of Cap'n Crunch. I said yes again when my daughter asked if she could eat Starburst for breakfast.

After my oldest son's game, which was at 8:00 A freaking M, we dropped the kids off at Ubes' parents house and went with some friends to a beerfest in Scottsdale. Where I proceeded to say yes a lot. Yes I'll try that dark beer. Yes I'll try that cider. Yes I'll try that IPA that smells like an old man on a hot day. Yes I'll enter that contest for a bike. Yes I'll take your picture with Norm from Cheers. Yes I'll sign that petition to legalize medical marijuana. Yes I'll split a philly cheese steak with you even though we ate like two hours ago. Yes I'll go with you to the port a potty. And yes I guess I will actually use the port a potty. Yes you can share my hand sanitizer. Yes I can drink more beer.

So all in all it has been a pretty good day. And I am looking forward to saying no a lot tomorrow. Peace out peeps. This Queen is tired.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Trade a Challenge Challenge

Okay so this Nablopomofo thing is kicking my bootie. It is really difficult coming up with things to write about every day. My life is just not that interesting.

So today, The Boy and I were talking about how to get some inspiration. And we came up with a plan. We will give each other a task to complete in one day, and then we both have to write about it.

The boy rejected my first challenge. Which was no big deal. I just told him he had to wear a pair of his wife's underwear for a day. I can't understand why he turned that opportunity down.

My challenge is to be a Yes Man for a day. Uh-huh, just like the movie. So tomorrow, with Uberman holding me accountable, I have to say yes to every opportunity that is presented to me. And we all know Ubes is going to take full advantage of this. Ahem.

The Boy's challenge? He has to watch When Harry Met Sally. Ha ha!! I KNEW I would win!! (Except I totally think he is getting the better end of the deal here.)

So I ask you, blogging community, how many of you are willing to participate in the Trade a Challenge Challenge? Even if you aren't participating in Nablopomo, just do it for the fun!  Just to set some ground rules, the requests have to be reasonable. (Hey, there is nothing unreasonable about a guy wearing his wife's underwear. Or so I hear.) Nothing that is illegal (I am not willing to go to jail for the sake of blog fodder) or immoral. Or vomit inducing. But eveything else is okay. Within reason. Oh wow now I'm scared.

And I'll let you know how my day as a Yes Man goes. Oy vay. Now I'm really scared.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Lucky Day

I think the smoothie shop owner is reading my blog. Today he brought me a smoothie. My fave strawberry banana. Right at 9:00 when I walked in the front door, BAM! Smoothie. It was so delicious that I had not one, not two, but three brain freezes all before 9:20 AM.

And then this afternoon I got a package at work. My mom sent me a dozen of her famous mini rum cakes. And I was cool. I shared.

And then this evening when I stopped at the grocery store, I ran into one of my most favorite people in the whole world - we'll call her Mrs. Cabo. Actually I ran into her and her family. So not fair of me to leave out Mr. Cabo and the junior Cabos. But anyway, Mrs. Cabo and I were talking about all the good sales at the store today and she shared a coupon with me. I mean she basically just handed me a whole dollar. Which she could have kept for herself. But no. She is not like that. She shared.

So all in all it's been a good day. A lucky day. I totally should have bought a lottery ticket with that dollar that Mrs. Cabo gave me. Except then if I won I would have had to share it with her. Because I'm cool like that.

And now I'm exhausted and I don't have anything else to say and I really hope there are no spelling errors in this because blogger took spell check away I mean what the heck are they thinking with that and I just want to go to bed and cuddle with my Uberman. So this is today's post and it sucks and I'm aware but I hope you still love me and ohmygod I am so tired. The end.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles has got nothin' on us.

Hello. My Name is April and I self medicate with food.

(Hi April.)

For dinner last night I fed my children chocolate chip pancakes with peanut butter. And syrup, duh. Always syrup. (Which I pronounce Seeeer-Up and Ubes says it is Sir-Up but I strongly disagree.) And I'm not gonna lie to you, I ate them too. And they were delicious.

And my daughter also insisted on having a side dish to accompany her delicious fluffly peanut butter-chocolate chip pancakes: Refried Beans. Uh-huh. She sure did. But she didn't have syrup. Which for some reason makes this refried bean side dish thing okay with me. Because adding seeeer-up would make it gross.

And I didn't say no. Not to the pancakes. Or the chocolate chips. Or the peanut butter, or the beans. Or to the bowls full of Cheetos they ate an hour later. Why? Because I can't pay for college and therapy so I am trying to make it up to them in small doses like this. You have to take these moments as they come.

So don't judge me people. I did it for the children.

(And Ubes would like me to tell you that I stole his line for my title. Thank you Ubes!)

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Pancakes.

Oh glory hallelujah. Today SUCKED. I mean supremely sucked. The perfect example of the upper echelon of suckage.

Working in a bank, you see good and bad. You get to see how excited people are to buy a house, to start a savings for a new baby, to get a fresh start. But you also get to see how badly this economy is breaking people down. I saw a grown man cry today. And I couldn't help it. I cried too.

In the past few days I have had several people tell me they have a lot going on in their lives. They have a lot to deal with. A lot on their plates. Guess what? We all do. Every one does. We're all busy. We're all struggling in some way. We're all just trying to make it to the next pay day, to the next phase, to the next month, to the next moment when we can sit back and say "This is good. This moment right now. This is what good feels like."

So today I want to think about what I am thankful for. I know I make these lists a lot. And I am sorry if I repeat myself. But today I need to remind myself to think about what is good. Why I do this. Why I get out of bed every morning. Why I keep going.

I am thankful . . .

. . . for a husband who gets me.

. . . for TiVo, which allows me to escape.

. . . for a baby girl who draws me pictures and tells me I smell like oranges.

. . . for an older son who makes a sandwich for his sister's lunch every morning. And makes her popcorn for a snack when they get home from school.

. . . for a middle child who reads books to his sister and tells me I'm the best cook ever, even when I just make him a box of mac & cheese.

. . . for my mom, who will always take the kids for the weekend so Ubes and I can have a hot date.

. . . for my MIL who is always up for an adventure.

. . . for garlic. I know totally random but what would my life be without this?

. . . for one of my clients who owns a smoothie shop and every once in a while, brings me my favorite strawberry banana.

. . . for The Boy, who makes me laugh and makes the work day go by quickly.

. . . for Gracie, my FIL's dog who is always excited to see me.

. . . for hot chocolate in my Tinkerbell mug.

. . . for my sexy black shoes, even though they make my feet hurt.

. . . for potatoes, because no matter how you make them they are delicious.

. . . for Lauren and William, because they prove that Ubes and I are totally normal and not alone. And that it's perfectly acceptable for a grown man to be obsessed with a superhero.

. . . for Disneyland. Because hello??? It's freaking Disneyland.

. . . for my iPod. Because it helps me escape.

. . . for anyone still awake after reading this.

Peace out people. It's almost 8:00 pm on a Tuesday night and I think my babies need a before bed snack of pancakes. Yep. Pancakes!!   

Monday, November 9, 2009

My Dream Jobs

I ranted last week about how I should have been a teacher. There are a lot of things I should have been. Thin with big boobs and a faster metabolism would have been great, but whatever.

I have not had many jobs in my life. I've only worked for four different companies. I guess because I am not big on change. I've been a waitress. Sucked at it. It's the eye roll slash loud exhale thing I've got going on. A file clerk, which I was really good at because I knew my ABC's. But I have poor time management skills and was often sitting in other people's offices talking about shoes. I've been a quality analyst, which was awesome because anal is part of the word analyst and I can be super anal. And I'm a rule follower. Rocked the Q/A job. I've been a corporate trainer, which I supremely kicked ass at. Partly because of my girl and partner in crime Kristen. We were so much fun. Kristen, we totally should have taken that show on the road. We would be famous by now! Why didn't we do that? Anyway, ahem... I was a stay at home mom. Which was awesome but the pay and the hours suck. I've processed loans, been an office manager, and a property manager. And my current job? Too boring to discuss, other than my occasional interaction with various weirdos from the public. I get paid to count things. And not that much.

But seriously, is there anyone, besides Oprah, doing what they love? What they want? What they were meant to do? 

In the amazing film, High Fidelity, our guy John Cusack makes a list of his dream jobs. It's such a great list, with specific time frames and everything. I have a list like that. It is as follows:

Top Five Dream Jobs - by April

1. Writer for In Style Magazine - Writing about fashion? Feature stories on fun girly stuff? With the occasional celebrity interview? Oh my, sign me up! (Of course I know me, and I would never be satisfied with just writing. I'd want to be an editor too. I like to have an opinion. I like to be in charge.)

2. Party/Event Planner - There is nothing I love more in this whole entire world! I LOVE planning a party. Any kind of a party. Baby shower, bridal shower, birthday, holiday, housewarming, Superbowl, Tupperware, I Just Felt Like Throwing A Party, whatever. I love planning everything from the little details like the lighting, the seating arrangements, the favors and decorations, to the big stuff like the food, the activities and the guest list. I am in the process of planning my Hunko Drunko Bunco Redux right now. If I could do this and actually get paid for it?? Heaven.

3. Correspondent for the E Network - That Giuliana Rancic pisses me off. I'm sure she's a lovely person, but dude, I so want her job. I could sit there all high and mighty and dish celebrity dirt all day. I could totally stand for hours on the red carpet and ask people what designer they were wearing. I am really good at talking to people. And about people. I could so be Giuliana.

4. Novelist - How cool would it be to write books all day? And be successful at it? And be paid real actual money for people to read your stuff? To sit around in your bathrobe with your fingers glued to the laptop? Actually, I think I did this when I was a stay home mom. But I didn't get paid. And I was constantly interupted to wipe a nose or an ass. So yeah, without the nose and ass wiping, this is a dream job.

5. English/Lit/Creative Writing Teacher - Because teaching people the difference between your and you're, to and too, they're, their and there?? This is actually making the world a better place. I love correcting people. It's a gift. And I love to read, I love to talk about books. Hell, I just love to talk. I might actually do this one someday. I should totally do this. Why am I not doing this?? I think I want to go back to school....

So there you have it. My dream jobs. They might not be your dreams, but that's okay. I'll take them over counting any day.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Me

So the other day I was talking to my MIL and she asked me if I was watching the Biggest Loser. And I said no. And she said "Well there's this girl and she's a real bitch. I mean she is so evil and nobody likes her, everyone hates her. She is so awful, I can't stand her! And I couldn't wait for her to get kicked off, she is that bad! She is just awful. The worst, meanest contestant EVER!!  . . .  And she totally reminds me of you."

Say whaaaaat???

Here she is:




Yeah. Okay. I wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit, but whatever.

Apparently several people think so - my MIL, her two BFF's, my BIL, my SIL and even my FIL. What the heck? My FIL did say it was only because I "sort of" looked like her. But my SIL told me she didn't think I looked like her at all. She thought our personalities were similar. But I shouldn't take it the wrong way, it wasn't a bad thing.

"Really?" I asked. "My personality is similar to a horrible, evil, awful woman and this isn't a bad thing?"

"Well," she said, obviously feeling uncomfortable, "I think it's because she is so blunt and  . . . well . . . um . . . so are you." And then she made up some story about one of her kids needing to get out of the shower and said she had to go.

This is so not okay.

Another friend recently told me I reminded her of that dingy chick on the progressive commercial. You know the one:




Yeah. She's pretty and her nose is adorable. I'd be okay with that. But it's not that I look like her. Again, it's that I have a similar personality.

People used to tell me I reminded them of Shannen Doherty, back in Shannen's hot mess of a 90210 hey day.

  

What is it? The one eye significantly lower than the other? The look that says "I'm wearing last night's makeup"? Or was it Shannen's whiny, stubborn character Brenda?

So I ask you, dear readers, how is it that I have any friends? Who wants to hang out with a goofy, dingy, evil bitch?

I thought it was okay to be strong. I thought it was okay to be funny. I thought being confident was a good thing. Today I'm not so sure.

But I guess what it all boils down to is how do I feel about myself? I'm strong. I'm goofy. I'm loud and uncoordinated. I'm competetive and sensitive and I call it like I see it. I can be brave when I have to be and believe it or not, there are a lot of things I don't say. I am passionate about what I believe, but that doesn't keep me from respecting what you believe. I am always late and I can be flaky. I suck at time management but I am really good at relating to people. I look at the world through a glass half full. My heart hurts when I know you are in pain. I give. A lot. And sometimes I say things without thinking. I make bad choices with food and I don't exercise. I could lose a few pounds but I like my eyes and I think my feet are perfect. And you know what else? I would rather be curvy than stick thin. I say what I feel, good or bad. And you always know where you stand with me. I don't say it if I don't mean it. I don't give up. Even if I know I can't win. Sometimes I take things too personally. I'm judgemental, even though I don't want to be and I hate it when people judge me. I'm loyal. And it breaks my heart to hurt someone's feelings. Even if they deserve it.

I'm not perfect.

But I'm okay with me. Good and bad. I would rather be strong than weak. I would rather be confident than insecure. I would rather be goofy and silly than boring and dull.

I would rather be me.

(I feel the need to clarify that in no way did I mean to indicate my family was being intentionally hurtful with their comments. I have an amazing relationship with all of my in laws and I am so proud to be a part of this family. Maybe I am taking this too personally. Or maybe we should all reconsider telling someone they remind them of someone who is unfavorable?? Either way, none of these comments were said to me negatively. And this post was not meant to be negative. This is my place to talk about my feelings and vent. That is all.)

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Jack Frost is a douche.

(I realize today I had promised the much anticipated post about jobs. I know, I can feel your disappointment seeping throught the internet. However, I felt the need to share my misery with you all instead. So quit your complaining. Because I am really too cold to care at this point.)

I'm at work right now. On a Saturday. I know, right? Banker's hours my big fat cottage cheese dimpled ass. And it's freezing in here. I am drinking hot chocolate while I watch an icicle form from my nose. And it's still not stopping my teeth from chattering.

Seriously. These are unbareable working conditions. This is Arizona for crying out loud. The hot place, remember? It's supposed to be in the upper 80's today. My kids are still wearing shorts to school. And I'm all bundled up, shaking and shivering, INDOORS.

This would be acceptable if I . . . .

. . . were feeding penguins or polar bears in a refrigerated habitat.

. . . were driving the zamboni.

. . . had a fat bearded guy in a red suit barking at me to add more curly ribbon.

 . . . were wearing a white coat and sending beef carcasses through a table saw. (But I would never do this because - hello??? White coat??? So not flattering.)

. . . were treating smelly mountain climbers for windburn and altitude sickness. (Again, wouldn't do this. Not a nurse. Or a fan of smelly mountain climbers.)

. . . were an Ice Road Trucker. (Which I would totally kick ass at. Except I wouldn't be able to park the truck. I suck at parking. Oh, and driving. Maybe I wouldn't kick ass at this.)

. . . were on board the Steve Irwin shouting "Hey Nisshin Maru! Whaling ends today!"

But no. I am not doing any of those things. I am sitting in a bank in Arizona freezing my bootie off. I'm ten blue fingers away from building a fire with my post it notes.

Wonder what the dress code says about Snuggies.... With the right accessories and maybe some boots, I could totally pull that off.

Oh. My. God. I am pretty sure I can see my breath...

And the radio station just started playing Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall." It's like my own little frozen version of hell. Awesome. What's next? They're going start requiring us to wear a uniform consisting of stirrup pants? How much can one person take???

Friday, November 6, 2009

Happiness isn't happiness without a violin-playing goat...

I had such a good time talking about movies with y'all yesterday. I still have not convinced The Boy to watch WHMS, but I am not giving up the fight.

But I'm punking out with today's post and giving you a list of a few more of my faves.

Notting Hill - I took this off the first list only because I thought I had too many of the same kind of movie. I mean obviously if it's set in London and stars Hugh Grant, I am so ready to party. I love the part where they are gathered around the table at the dinner party and Julia Roberts is trying to tell the saddest story so she can win the last brownie. "And one day, not long from now, my looks will go, they will discover I can't act, and I will become some sad middle aged woman who looks a bit like someone who was famous for a while." For a brief moment they all see that she is just as sad and lonely as the rest of them.

Gross Pointe Blank - Who doesn't love some John Cusack? Especially when he's playing a professional killer going back to his ten year reunion. Hilarity ensues. My favorite part is the relationship between Cusack and his assistant, played by his sister Joan Cusack. So flipping funny!

Steel Magnolias - I know, I know. The all time cliche of chick flicks. But I can't help it, I love this movie more than my luggage.

Sleepless in Seattle - Another chick flick cliche but I really don't give a hoot. I love the relationship between Tom Hanks' character Sam and his eight year old son Jonah. Especially the part where they get in an argument because Jonah wants Sam to fly to New York to meet Annie.

Sam: Didn't you see Fatal Attraction?
Jonah: No! You wouldn't let me!
Sam: Well I did and it scared the shit out of me. It scared the shit out of every man in America!

And being the sick twisted soul that I am, I absolutely love the soundtrack to that film. Its like . . . mmmmagic.

One Fine Day - This movie is really a great big advertisement for tourism in New York City. But with George Clooney and Michelle Pfeiffer bickering the whole time.

13 going on 30 - I think I love this movie because it is one of Boo's favorites. And it's adorable.

Father of the Bride - I think I watched this movie 300 times when I was planning my wedding. And if I am ever flipping channels and it's on, I have to stop and watch.

Christmas Vacation - The be all, end all of Christmas movies. It wouldn't be Christmas without "the silent majesty of a winter's morn... the clean, cool chill of the holiday air... an asshole in his bathrobe, emptying a chemical toilet into my sewer... " Come on, even Jesus is laughing at that.

And what list would be complete without Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink? I don't think I could call myself a girl without having those in my DVD library.

I could sit here talking movies with you all day. But unfortunately I have to go to work. Tomorrow I'm taking a tip from Mr. Cusack in High Fidelity and I'm gonna talk about jobs.

Oh I bet you can't wait.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

You Made a Woman Meow?

I love movies. Love them. I love going to the movies, I love watching movies at home. I love quoting my favorite lines from movies.

I think I am pretty diverse movie watcher. To prove that I will confess to you that my favorite movie so far this year (besides the Hangover) is Zombieland. See what I mean. Diverse.

So anywho, my favorite movies of all time are as follows, in no particular order:

You've Got Mail - or as Ubes calls it - When Harry Met Sally in Seattle on the Internet. Whatever. This movie is a part of my soul.

Love Actually - "I feel it in my fing-gahs, I feel it in my toes!" My favorite Christmas movie of all time. I can't wait to watch it this year.

Bridget Jones's Diary - I saw this movie in the theater 6 times, three of them by myself. My favorite scene is where she is standing at the bottom of the stairs after her friend's dinner party and she tells Mark Darcy how stuck up he is. And he tells her he likes her. Very much. Just the way she is. Sigh.

About a Boy - I can't hear the song "Killing Me Softly" without smiling because of this movie. This is a sweet movie about growing up and learning to love. I think this is Hugh Grant's greatest performance, he is not the charming, bumbling Englishman in this film. He's a total asshole. You will love it.

The Painted Veil - This film is so heartbreakingly beautiful, if you don't love it you are dead inside. Edward Norton is an amazing actor. His English accent sucks. But you love this character so much you forgive it.

Pride and Prejudice - I like both the BBC and Keira Knightly versions of this book for different reasons. The BBC version, duh, Colin Firth. But I think the Keira Knightly is more true to what their life was actually like during that time. And that scene near the end with Matthew MacFadyen walking towards her through the field, the sunlight coming over his shoulder and his coat tails swinging behind him??? Swoon.

Sense and Sensibility - My girl Kate Winslet at her best. I love the one liners in this film. Elinor: "You have not said one word to her since she arrived." Marianne: "Yes I have. I've said yes and I've said no." But still, the book was better.

Closer - Clive Owen. Sigh. I think this movie is a pretty realistic portrayal of relationships. I'm embarrassed to tell you I saw this movie in the theater with my MIL. The language and subject matter are pretty explicit, and the whole time I was wondering if she knew what they were talking about. When I told her this, she actually laughed and said something very thought provoking that I will never forget. "No matter how old you are or what generation you came from, love is love. You do the same things, you say the same things. Age has nothing to do with intimacy."

Layer Cake - My boyfriend before his days as James Bond. "I'm not a gangster. I'm a businessman whose commodity happens to be cocaine." A movie where you are actually rooting for the drug dealer. The only downfall is that nasty Sienna Miller. Blech.

Jerry Maguire - I love how well written this film is. The dialogue is brilliant. I think I have a thing for flawed characters. And Bonnie Hunt is amazing.

Singles - Ubes loves this movie, too. Again, amazing dialogue. Cameron Crowe is the man.

The Family Man - Another one of of my favorite Christmas movies. Ubes and I quote this movie all year long.

Elf - If you don't love this movie, you're a weirdo and we can't be friends anymore. It makes me feel all purple-y.

Rear Window - Hello?? Alfred Hitchcock. This movie is so much better than Psycho. Except it has made me a little too leery of all my neighbors and what they are putting in their trash. Or burying in their rose garden.

Mary Poppins - This is the movie that made me want to go to London. And hell yes I stood at the top of the steps of St. Paul's Cathedral and belted out "Feed the Birds." Because I'm all bad ass like that.

Sex & the City - I think this is the single greatest movie representation of the relationships women maintain with one another. I love the scene where Samantha is feeding the soup to Carrie. So much is said about these two characters in that small moment. I cried like a baby at that part. And I would totally feed you soup if you needed it. You know who you are.

The English Patient - My heart breaks every time I watch the scene where Count Almasy is carrying Katherine out of the cave. There is nothing more devastating than a love that was never meant to be.

The Pianist - Adrian Brody is so astounding in this beautifully written film. The human spirit, the will to survive, the power to forgive things that were so incredibly unforgivable. I LOVE this movie.

A Bugs Life - I think this is the most underrated Pixar film. This movie is hilarious and Dennis Leary steels the show as a tough-guy ladybug named Francis. Trust me. Just watch it.

And of course, my favorite movie of all - When Harry Met Sally.

The Boy is a film maker. An award winning film maker to be more specific. We spend a lot of time talking about movies. And I was shocked when he told me last week he has never seen When Harry Met Sally.

"What???" I asked incredulously.

"I don't like Billy Crystal," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"Forget it's Billy Crystal," I told him.

"I don't like Meg Ryan," he said.

"Okay, so forget it's Meg Ryan. There is no way you will not like this movie. The writing is stellar. Amazing. This is the movie that made romantic comedies what they are today. This is the movie that made Meg Ryan Meg Flippin' Ryan!" I stared at him like he was a freak.

How could you be a film maker, a lover of films, and not see When Harry Met Sally?? I mean really!

My favorite scene in the movie is the one where Harry and Jess are at the football game. Harry is telling Jess that his wife, Helen, just left him. Here he is, the epitome of depression and despair, telling his best friend the horrible news that his wife left him and he had no idea it was coming. Yet every few minutes he and Jess still stand up to do the wave. Seriously, so freaking funny.

And then of course there is the scene in the diner when Harry and Sally are driving back from college. Harry is asking Sally if she has ever had great sex. She says she has had great sex, with Shel Gordon. Harry tells her there is no way she ever had great sex with a man named Sheldon. It's all about the name.

"A Sheldon can do your income taxes. If you need a root canal, Sheldon's your man. But humpin' and pumpin' is not Sheldon's strong suit. It's the name. 'Do it to me Sheldon, you're an animal Sheldon, ride me big Shel-don.' Doesn't work."

My mom used to work for a guy named Sheldon. I couldn't say his name without giggling.

This movie is so full of fabulous quotes.

"You were going to be a gymnast."
"A journalist."
"Right, that's what I said."

I think Sally Albright is the film character I most relate to. I am totally the girl who is high maintenance but thinks she's low maintenance. I often order food in restaurants just like her. I'm every waiter's nightmare. But just like Sally, "I just want it the way I like it."

Greatest movie ever. If you haven't watched it in a while, do yourself a favor and watch it. And if you see The Boy, help me convince him to watch it too.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Mr. McClellan, this one's for you

I should have been a teacher.

I would have been pretty kick ass awesome. The kids would have adored me. I'd be that favorite teacher that everyone hoped they would get. And when my students became famous and were interviewed by Oprah and Diane Sawyer and Larry King and asked the inevitable question "Who inspired you?" Well, naturally they would say "My favorite teacher, Mrs. Uberman. She rocked. She raised the roof with her bad ass teaching self."

I would have been a good English teacher. High School only. Not little kids because . . . ew. Shudder. The high school kids would have loved me. Because I am cool and hip and happening and down with their righteous lingo. I would have been good at English because I'm a good speller. And I know the difference between their, there and they're and your and you're. All are huge pet peeves with me. And I don't know why people think it's okay to forget the rules for your and you're when texting. There is never an excuse for grammar errors, right? Right? It's totally NOT okay. And I am not talking about creative writing, which duh, is exempt from the grammar rules. This is why it is okay for me to start sentences with the words "And" and "So." And have massive amounts of run on sentences. Plus it's my blog so shut up and stop judging me, mmmmkay? You wanna piece of this??

Yeah, that's what I thought.

So where was I?? Oh yes, teachers.

I would have been so good at teaching Lit. Because I love to read and I can see the hidden meaning in The Turn of the Screw. And because I am passionate about people knowing Jane Austen in print and not just Jane Austen in film. Although, Jane Austen on film is not that bad when done right. Colin Firth in wet puffy shirt? What is wrong about that? Nothing!

Sigh.

And I would never make my students read Great Expectations. Because it was the longest, most boring and confusing book ever written. Yeah, I said it. Dickens is over rated. I'm not afraid of you.

So, yeah. I am good at explaining things. I am good at relating to people of all ages. I love correcting essays. I have no problem standing in front of a room full of people. And I love the smell of school supplies.

I totally should have been a teacher.