Neurotic…

People have been saying it about me for years. I think with my purchase the weekend of 7 smoke/CO detectors I have proven them right. Our house is about 2500 sq. feet, which is a decent size, but by no means large. With my heightened pregnancy sense of smell, I’m convinced that I always smell smoke (this comes in handy when there’s a fire or gas leak, but not so much when there’s a skunk in the neighborhood), which I probably am considering it is wood burning season. Anyway, since my beautiful little boy sleeps in his own room I decided we need to install more alarms just to be on the safe side. So, we got one for each bedroom and two for the hallway. This coupled with the security system, some firearms, two dogs, and a husband whose size generally insights fear, I’m feeling pretty safe. My next project is to get motion lights in the back and side yards.

Too much Smallville

We have one of those blockbuster movie passes were you pay a flat rate each month and get as many movies as you want (like Netflicks, but in store). My husband has decided to watch every season of Smallville available, which is totally cool, hell I’ve even enjoyed a couple. But after last night, I think he might be developing a Superman complex.

We were at a local high school basketball game watching a couple of his cousins’ play. When halfway through the 4th quarter, a wrestling match over the ball broke out, which quickly turned to players pushing each other and coaches, athletic directors, referees and teachers took care of the situation. We were sitting by the home teams locker room door and one of their players who was directly involved in the incident was escorted to the locker room and some of his team mates followed. Okay, so here’s where we’re at the visiting team is on their side of the court away from the home team, the couple of home team players are really upset and have been hulled off to the locker room, and school administrators are handling the handful of students who are getting pumped up over the situation. When all of a sudden I look over and see that my husband has jumped out of the stands and is standing by the path leading to the home team’s locker room doing his version of crowd calming, which resembles the “Angles in the Outfield” signal, without so much flap. I sitting in the stand (almost seven month pregnant mind you) with my three year old son and a bunch of my husbands family trying to figure out what the hell he was doing. Finally, I get his attention and get his ass back in the stands. After waiting about half an hour for them to figure out the situation, we decided to leave as it was getting late and we needed to get our son ready for bed. When we got to the car, I asked him what he thought he was doing. For what I understand, he was trying to be prepared incase people started swinging to pull them apart. Okay, where do I begin with the issues I have with this?
1. By the time he dragged his ass out there the excitement was over, so what the hell.
2. Yea, there are people paid to do that kind of crap already at the game, and I don’t think they need your help.
3. And if you were to wrestle some 15 year old to the ground what kind of liability are you put yourself in.
4. Do you really want your three year old son to see you in a wrestling match with a bunch of high schoolers.

Needless to say I was a little annoyed and I think it might do him some good to lay off the Smallville.

Ghost of parties past…

There have been those parties where I’ve been so shit faced and embarrassed myself, that I thought for sure "this will come and haunt me", you know ruin any aspiration of becoming Nevada’s first female Governor (although if I start a lounge act I think my chances of becoming Lieutenant Governor increase exponentially). Never in a million years did I think the party that would revisit me would be from 1986, when I was 9 years old. So, I have a group of girl friends that I went to college with that are the types of friends that you can say anything to. You know the kind that you can strike up a conversation about anal bleaching or openly molest and there’s no question that it’s normal for that group. We have a yahoo group and send mass emails to each other via this medium. I started getting ones this weekend regarding a picture that I was supposedly in, but I had no idea what they were talking about. I went to work this morning and there was another email mentioning this mysterious picture…then I realized that my work email must have automatically moving it to my junk mail folder (sorry cla-cla, guess the company IS department doesn’t love ya much). It turns out an old friend has posted a costume party picture from 1986 on another friends myspace profile. Then the evil Cla-Cla got a hold of it and sent it out to the college girls and my husband. Oh well, it’s pretty funny and I totally remember that party and taking that picture. I cropped most of the people out; accept myself and the two people who were part of the myspace exchange. I'm the one in the shadow.

Very Bitter Monkey

So this is a bitch about the husband…I had to renew the registration on my car last month, and when my husband put the new sticker on my car he noticed the sticker on his truck had expired. He didn’t remember getting a renewal notice, but whatever. So, off he trots to the local oil change hut to get a smog check and wouldn’t you know it the truck fails. Now, be aware, this is not some crusty old beater. It’s a 2003 Dodge truck. So, why did it fail? Because the check engine light that has been on since this summer caused an automatic fail. After months of me nagging to take in to the dealership, my husband is forced to because he needs to get whatever fixed so that it will pass a smog test and we can get it register. And what was wrong? The air conditioning had basically burnt out. There were two options, (A) repair the air condition system or (B) bypass the system and reset the engine light so that the truck will pass the smog test. My husband choose option A, and $950 later the truck was fixed and passed the test. On a side note, my husband did make the statement that he had noticed this pass summer when he used the air conditioner it only spewed hot air…Hello!!! Time to get that checked. Okay, so smog is done, let’s get on-line and register it, right? Nope, since he has no idea where the renewal notice is he doesn’t have the code so we can’t do it on-line. But, no worries his friend at work told him that he can do it over the phone. Off he goes to make the call, when what happens? They tell him there is a problem with his insurance, from what they can tell it has lapsed. So, he rips through his car and can find every other insurance card he has ever had for the car, but the most recent. But then again, he forgot that we just got his new one in the mail and I put it next to where he keeps his wallet and keys so that he would remember to put it in his car. So, he goes through there and can’t find it, yet funny enough when I look I find it. And wouldn’t you know it the new card is future dated and doesn’t take effect for about a week, so still no insurance card. Next step, call the insurance company and have them send a copy of the card, but they are changing computer systems and having a hard time locating the old policy. So, we get to today, by this time the new insurance card is effective and since it is my day off, I am asked to renew the registration at the local DMV. I am told by the spouse that it should not be a problem since the card is now current and he talked to the insurance people and if there are any issues to just call them. So, I wait in line 30 minutes just to get a number, wouldn’t you know it they won’t give me a number because of the “lapse” in insurance. So, I call the insurance company, and they send over the verification, but for whatever bizarre reason the old and the new policy are in Arizona, and I still can not register the car (but in the past it was an Arizona policy and there was not issue!?!). Here I sit, after stupidly believing my husband had straighten all his shit out, having spent the day either in line at the DMV or on the phone with the insurance people, and still no registration. Any wonder why I’m a very bitter monkey.

These rock...

I saw a pair of these on Best Week Ever, but there were black and the saying was on the backside...hehe...fellows, it also comes in a belt buckle.


Also...
Things I wonder about…anyone care to shed some light?

1. Do people who have a lot of anal sex (or just things in their ass in general) later on in life have issue with controlling bowel movements?
2. Is here such a thing as a nut lift, for those who have really low hanging balls?
3. If there are guys out there bendy enough to give themselves a BJ, can they concentrate long enough to finish the job?

I feel like a moose

So, I’m twenty four weeks along, but wouldn’t you know it…the bean is measuring 25 weeks. Figures, that’s what I get for procreating with a beast. Only thing that is comforting is that my breast still stick out further then my stomach, but I don’t know how long that’s going to last. To make matters worse I’ve had a damn cough for about a month now and it’s not getting better. I went to the doctor’s on Thursday and they reassured me that there was nothing wrong; I just had a lingering cough from an upper repertory infection. In the mean time I’m wondering if I could give the bean shaken baby syndrome from coughing so much. On the bright side, the basement of our rental property flooded over New Year’s weekend and now we are in the middle of a costly repair on the house. Yes folks, 2006 is looking might fine. I’m hoping that next week I get Bismarcked by a gang of Santa’s elves on a post-Christmas vacation.

Wish I had a camera

So, I picked my husband up from work today, since his car was in “the shop”. On our way out of the industrial Mecca where he works, we saw the funniest sight. A UPS brown van pulled off to the side of the road with a trail of boxes and big envelops behind it. As we passed it we saw the poor driver in his little shorts running to pick the stuff up and to top it off a FEDEX truck was passing him going the other direction. It was the kind of crap commercials are made of.

Such a Hobo…

I’ve been so bad about writing lately. I’m pretty sure I’m nesting, and obsessing about the new baby that I haven’t had much time for anything else. Also, not much exciting stuff has been going on (other then me turning friends on to the addictive “Project Runway”).

I had a sonogram last week and found out that I still have that darn ovarian cyst. I had a feeling it was still there, but since the pain wasn’t as intense as it was at first I just ignored the whole thing. You’d think that I would have learned from past experiences (salmonella poisoning, a kidney stone, pre-term back labor…which all feel pretty much the same) that that kind of pain is usually an indicator of much worse. Right now it is 4cm, back up from the 2cm it was last time we checked, but the doctors office said that they don’t get concerned until it hits the 5-7cm mark. I fear that they will put me on bed rest, a road that I have been down before and wish not to visit again.

At work, I am getting ready to change offices. There’s been some movement in the building and our department is taking over a large part of the empty space. So, today has been filled with me listening to maintenance guys move crap and paint walls. Although, I did get to enjoy some older fellow try to crack jokes about “banging studs” to several of his uninterested 20 something colleagues. Maybe if I’m lucky, they’ll be back tomorrow.

I puked

Once in college I got really drunk on cheap wine and kept puking on myself. Not since then had I had that kind of incident…until recently. New Year’s Eve I was out with some friends and strangers at a local sushi bar. Keep in mind that I am pregnant, so of course I wasn’t eating raw anything or partaking of the sake that was flowing. But, I’ve had a cough that been lingering for about a week, so I did have a bit of hot tea, about four cups to be exact. So, at about 8:30 pm I start heading home while the rest of the gang took their chances in the flooded down town streets of my quaint little mountain town. I called my husband on the way home to ask if he wanted me to get him something to eat, since I know that when I’m not there he doesn’t feed himself. Mid-conversation I start having a coughing fit…and that when it happened…

I puked tea all down the front of me, while driving down the street talking on the cell phone. Once I regained what little composure I could mustard, I told my husband what happened and he suggested that I just get home ASAP. The really odd thing is that all that came out was the tea…no rice, no seaweed, no fish…just tea.