What's wrong with this cat? 

Oh. 

I always say "you can't trust a well dressed man"

I watch "Ambush Makeover," I do, it makes me all the dumber for it, but I keep watching. What I have learned is that there are way more male make-up artists out in the world than I ever imagined.
I have a problem with this. I would feel like a failure as a woman if a man could do my makeup better than I can. A man can decorate my house, teach me how to dance, even dress me, but in my mind only a woman should do my make-up.

I usually try to avoid geriatric products

But I really want this handle thing.
My civic is so low, and I'm so front heavy, it's a bad combo and I narrowly avoid tumbling onto the driveway on a daily basis.
(why's it gotta be 35 bucks?)

mini post

During the Bradley classes, we were shown a big color anatomical chart of how a normal woman's internal organs are arranged, all happily working together, doing their own special jobs to make said woman function. And then on the other side of the chart we saw where all those organs go when the baby moves in. Organs are pushed every which way in the the same way dirty laundry is stuffed in a closet when guests arrive unannounced.
I am that closet, and my guest is staying another month.

(Oh and I can't let it go, my feet seem to belong to someone else.)

just put the microphone down

There's a race downtown this weekend.
I was watching an interview with the head of Team Australia on the local news.
At the end of the interview the painfully white bread american reporter said
"I know what Australian for beer is, what's Australian for good luck?"
To which the harried man said "uh...do it."
"Do it, okay great! Hey if you need an Outback, I know where one is."
"oh okay."
After the tape interview was over, he told the news desk:
"that man was actually from Scotland."

Idiot.

all credit goes to Allison

I already feel a kinship with the author of this book. Just read those few pages. Bless that woman, and heaven help me, I know I'm gonna have to deal with "coddlers" real soon!
If you don't have time to read those pages, here's a quote that made me laugh:
"Time and again I have seen four and five year old children punching their mommies in the face, slapping them across the head, and kicking them in the shins, while the mommies say in a calm gentle voices, "Honey -ow- please don't hit Mommy. Sweetie, please. Honey? What's the matter, honey? Are you having angry feelings, sweetheart? Ow." The mothers continue attempting to soothe the little savages into submission with hugs and kisses, while dodging tiny but vicious blows."
Gold.

I forgive you, bus.

As I was driving north on 280, I noticed a city bus hurdling southbound with a marquee that read simply "SORRY".
It must have been a naughty bus.

oh san joser

Can you believe it? We beat San Francisco by two spots.
Okay I can believe it. In answer to the titled question "is you city overpriced?"-- YES. Can I just tell you that my boss's house cost 750K, and it's a 2bedroom/1bathroom? Yowza. Nope, no ocean view, no acreage, not even a pool. That's life in the valley. I will withhold how much our modest little home cost, it kinda makes me ill. But I will say that for the same price we could be living in this house in Texas. Ouchie. (Let's give a nice big round of applause it for Kevin and "daddy-Ebay" that made buying a house here possible)
It really doesn't make any sense and people usually only stick around here for a little while before they move away to Nevada or Colorado or even "down south" but they don't mean Alabama, they mean Orange County. (hence all our friends leave!)
It's not that I didn't know that coming here. Thankfully I've lived my whole adult life here, so it doesn't hurt as much as I'm sure it would if I had lived on my own a few years somewhere more logical.
viva la santa clara y san jose, viva el ultraje.

**trumpets sound**

I invite you read my maiden post on Wordaholism.
Tonight as I receive this honor, I'd like to thank the gracious host of Wordaholsim, Esbee, and all of the other contributors who are obviously more clever than I.

It's gonna be rough

This is the dogs' life now...No wonder Franklin's been peeing in the baby's room, they know their lives will never be the same in 6 weeks. 

social comentary: a little shame, a little glory

I cannot support:
the new Dodge Charger
cell phone mania
Tim McGraw meets Nelly song

But I do support:
the new saturn roadster
Funnel cakes at IHOP and green tea frappuchino
Martha Stewart redeeming herself with a french bulldog

a Craigslist gem

I like to puruse craigslist, it's like garage sale shopping for lazy people.
I came across this ad tonight and it made me happy.
What a funny little man.

I want to tell!

Aurora called me today and told me the sonogram results but neither her or Scott have blogged so I guess I'd better zip it until they tell (oh the waiting!)

Today I had another installment of -things I do-:

On Sunday, Kevin and I were excited to have our lunch be simply all the guacamole and chips we could eat. He had his bag of Tostitos and I had my bag of blue corn chips (they're healthier, alright?). I thought for sure I would finish off my whole bag (medium sized!) so I tore it open for easier chip selection access. But I didn't eat them all, and I didn't remove the bag from the table either. Later last night I was using a laptop with the cord trailing over the coffee table, then I handed the laptop to Kevin which made the cord sweep under the bag of chips and tip them out onto the table. I laughed...and again I didn't remove them from the table.
After I finished my lunch today, I looked down at the chips and thought "the dogs would like these." So I made up a mini-game called "get the chips." Very similar to 52 card pick up, but with dogs and chips. I threw them up into the air and onto the carpet, and they, with great deftness, scurried to eat them all up. My little champions.

What in the name of all things holy?!

As I was cleaning out my inbox of spam (of which I get millions because I've had my email address for 10 years) I noticed the title "SEXY Christian Singles" and thought "what in the hell?" But as you can see from the picture, spammers will say anything. I expect that if I was affiliated with Islam that the korean hooker photo would say "Come meet sexy muslim singles" Or maybe not. They could get bombed for that.  

come see the harder side of me

I just registered for my first real conference
Although it's bound to be a very adult atmosphere, I'll be sure to take notes on some silly paper with japanese hamsters printed on it and maybe a sparkley pen.
If anyone would like to join me in scenic Fremont California on Saturday, you're welcome to. (why did it have to be Fremont?!)

this is where it starts gettin ugly

The salad days of the the second trimester are long gone now.
There was so much I wanted to get done this weekend, but instead I spent a lot of it laying on our (unclean) living room carpet and staring at the ceiling...occasionaly flopping to either side to mix it up. My ability to focus is shot too. We needed to make some decisions about the bathroom, yesterday and today, and there were just too many variables for me to compute. I feed my brain information and all I get back are error messages saying "i don't know, i don't know, hot, it's hot, can't stand up, tired, can't think."
The feeling is like I just ran a 5K then immediately sat down and ate a whole thanksgiving turkey covered in lard and strawberry syrup-- all day long.
One would think I'd be sleepy, but sleep ain't happenin' either.
6 weeks left...

To keep these to myself would be selfish

If I could string together certain moments of my life, written just so, I might have a funny movie. Well funny to me.
On their own they don't have much narrative quality to them, but I don't want them to go to waste.
Here's a recent one:
Last Sunday I set a container with about two inches of milk in it on top of my car as I unlocked my car. Right as I got the door open, the wind blew the cup over and onto the backseat window of my car. I think I said something like "ohhh miillk, ohhh."
Am I clean? No. I let it dry on there.
Then later in the week, I had a glass with a few inches of watery, warm lemonade in my cup holder. As I was about to dump it out onto the concrete, I thought "maybe it will wash off the milk."
It didn't. It just made more smeared marks down the side of my car.
Did any of that spur me to wash my car?
Absolutely not.
It's all still on there

Another one:
I've had this fugitive pile of laundry hanging around for months. Not fugitive in that it's hiding. On the contrary, I put in plain sight, hoping day after day, that the me-of-tomorrow will get sick of looking at it and do something about it. But, it's a tricky pile, you see. It's a bunch of winter clothes and clothes that I plan to donate. All dirty, and there is absolutely no demand for them to get clean. So as i was trying to clean the house on Tuesday I dumped the pile in the middle of the kitchen floor, with the idea that "That'll irritate me enough to sort and wash them."
No one should be surprised that that pile stayed there for several days.
One of those days I cooked a bowl in the microwave long enough to make it like magma to the touch. There were tea towels hanging from the oven and oven mits in the drawer across the kitchen.
But I used a sock.
A dirty tube sock from the pile.

More nuggets to come. They happen all the time.

funniest one yet

I hope everyone saw the latest Queer Eye.
They helped a nudist. Wheels off!

friday afternoon report

This afternoon I went to the pool. A kid puked in the pool. They said "everyone out." So I left.
On the way home I thought, maybe the dogs would like to have their own little pool.
I stopped at a drug store to get one.
I also needed milk.
No milk at the store, but I got the last pool.
I put the pool out. The dogs didn't like it.
I resigned myself to watching Dr. Phil. Re-run.
Damn.