Christmas Gifts for the impatient and the short attention spanned

Every year Lrudlrick makes it that much more difficult to get him a Christmas present. This year, my original idea was sort of blown up (I'm not revealing it in the hopes I may turn this around). I briefly alluded to the item and he said, "Eh. I done with it."

Then he threw out his sneaks because of some strange substance he stepped in. So I thought getting him those custom Nikes would be the perfect gift. His impatience has thrown that out the door. He just called me at Sport Authority.

Geez...

Love. Acceptance. Mom. Biology

I sometimes feel like I'm the older sister to my mother. I won't go into the sordid history but she does things that are so impulsive and without consideration to the fact that she's a grown woman with responsibilities.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm in any shape or form, sisterly to her. We're not
running out to the Macy's Wednesday sales or getting facials together. Heck, my
brother probably does that more with my mom than I. There are times where I
feel that because she married so young and lived a rather sheltered and pampered
life, she still needs to be sheltered and pampered. Not that it's healthier for
her to be this way; it's just that reality would probably hurt her. Therefore
you see many people who love her sheltering her. [Ok, to those who say I was
pampered to. I'm not disagreeing but that's for another day's rant.]

Now my mom's a tough cookie but she's like an M&M. She's got a hard shell but a
soft center. She gets hurt easily and takes things way too personal.

Her latest lunacy is going to China or Hong Kong. I don't know which one. Her
In-laws, whom she just finished visiting, are planning a trip to the Far East.
She wants to go. Forget that she's not retired like they are. Forget that
she's still recuperating. Forget that she's on a fixed budget.
Forget that her husband probably cannot go since he's still awaiting his
immigration status.

It kind of reminds me of when she used to fly away. She frequently left NYC
towards the last years of my dad's life. It was as if she couldn't deal with
what was going on and just wanted to escape. I once asked
my dad why if it hurt him so much for her to runaway he allowed her to
go off. He said that it was the only way he knew how to make her happy.
Listening to one to many U2 records, he allowed her to leave in the hopes she'd
find her way home to him.

Mom's now frantically calling me for passport forms. I'm not storybook with my
mom but when she needs me I'm there. I try my best to appease her crazy Lucy
schemes even if I feel they are hair-brained. Yes, I do love her but I cannot
shelter. Even if I question her, she'll give me some explanation she has put thought
into to make it seem logical. (ie. Grandpa's real estate property)

What's scary is that I see parts of grandma in my mom which only leads me to believe
that the lunacy maybe partly hereditary. My only hope now is that it degenerates as
it hits the younger generations.

PNC's Christmas Price Index

Hubby, you can skip
the Ladies dancing but I must have my Lords a-leaping.

For the love of God, why?

Anyone else believe these are mufugly?

Santa, The Easter Bunny and The Tooth Fairy walk into a bar...

Ok. Where do I begin? It's been a while and my head is floating with
thoughts, rants and raves. In honor of TV Guide and their 'Cheers and Jeers'
section, I give you:

Pantrygirl's Cheers and Jeers for Thanksgiving 2004

Cheers:

Beer

            Good with Turkey and well, just about anything.p>

The main liquid beverage of choice this holiday.

Made the fish and chips tastier made my meatball sub with onions and garlic that much more delicious

It also eased my mind from the looming Christmas panic

Photo Frames

            I completed three big
frames. I also thought that a pretty picture frame with old photos of my hubby
would be a good present for my MIL.

            Oh, and in a
freaky-earth-stopped-rotating-for-a-brief-moment, my FIL gave me a photo of his
parents to add to my grandparent frame.

Toys R Us

            Remember
our Christmas shopping excursion which turned into a Frosted Mini class=SpellE>Wheats moment for Lrudlrick? Well the toy car he bought for
himself was less entertaining than originally thought. Isn’t that always the
case? So we had to return it. Luckily the line was short. But while we were
there I noticed that they had all the Santa Clause is Coming
to Town ornaments excluding the Heat and Snow Miser. I checked it out on EBay.
So far it’s going for $80.00! Damn you people! If anyone sees the Heat and Snow
Miser for a reasonable price, email me.

Thanksgiving with Family

            Thanksgiving
is my favorite family holiday because it’s about food and family and that’s it.
No searching for the one gift that he/she would love. No expectations, except
for turkey, corn and ribs. In a photo that I regret I didn’t take, Baby Matt
chose Heineken over Similac. Sometimes I wish I had a
camera implanted in my head.

Christmas presents

            We’ve
got the kids presents down and I’m relieved. Now I just need to wrap them. I
even bought the batteries. (Damn you battery people/toy people! 3 class=SpellE>AAs when you know perfectly well that they only come in
packs of four!)

Couch bonding

            In another cosmos-changing
event, my Step-MIL bonded with us. We got Lrudlrick’s dad to finally loosen his
wallet and buy a new couch and loveseat. His couch was older than me and when
you sat down, you had to hold yourself up with your forearms to avoid neck and
back injury. So we headed to Macy’s and got a new leather couch set. During
this time, Step-MIL not only let me hang out with her daughter by myself, she
also left the room for extended periods of time!

Baby sis had a ball. We had her on top of the oriental rugs and she jumped
into Lrudlrick’s arms. We got her on the recliner and played spaceship. Who
knows when this moment will come again but I’m glad that we went. To the hopes
that this is a beginning to further developments in the baby sis front…

 

Jeers:

Wool Sweaters

            Ok. It’s bad enough that my
mother’s handmade sweater she knitted for her was tossed aside because she
feels wool is bad for her daughter but when your daughter playfully plays with
my scarf, she’s scolded for allowing it near her face! Good grief woman, you
cannot protect your child from every dust mite in the world!

Children should be seen and not
heard

            And if your child wants to
giggle loudly when we tickle her, she should. We’re in a
frickin’ car. It’s not like we’re in the Smithsonian. (Besides, I’m sure
the Smithsonian, wouldn’t mind a laughing child versus a crying one.) Put on
your Christina Aguilera tape and let us in the back have our class=SpellE>gigglefest.

Christmas presents

            Ok,
after 8 years, I’m tired of hearing you say that you want your daughter to bond
with the family. Prove it. Every year, we plead with them to come to the family
Christmas Eve party. Every year, we get one excuse after another. For two
straight years, I swear they planned their France
trip around the event just to avoid it. This year’s excuse is, I’m cheap and
don’t want to buy presents for everyone. 1. You showing up would be present
enough. B. You showing up would be present enough. Have we not gone through
this with your son’s birthday? Lrudlrick even offered to drive to their house,
pick up baby sis and go as the threesome. FIL turns all Woody Allen and can’t
make a coherent sentence.

Christmas presents part II

            Now, I’ve got the hard
presents left. Actually, they aren’t really hard it’s just that they are couples
and it’s difficult to get a present for a couple that both parties would like.
My most difficult are always the parents. See, I know what my mom would like
but my stepdad, not so much. In October, we decided
on hockey tickets but well, they heard me speak and decided to strike. Then
there is my MIL who would love anything that says ‘Holistic’ or ‘Natural’ on
it. My Step-FIL would love a gift certificate to an old record shop but I’m not
sure which ones are good. Must do some research. My FIL would be happy with a class=SpellE>neverending supply of coffee and pastries from the local
bakery but I have no clue what to give my Step-MIL.
Maybe I should get her a decorating magazine subscription but then again, she’d
probably say that the designs aren’t her style. Maybe I should just buy her
wool.

Santa, The
Easter Bunny and The Tooth Fairy

            The
excuse that finally fumbles out is that he’s afraid the cousins would tell her
that Santa did not exist. Dude, the girl doesn’t even like stuffed animals
because they don’t look real. There is no way this girl truly believes in
Santa. Besides, it’s not like they are all going to run around and say there is
no Santa.

Purses and lip gloss

            Baby
sis declined berry lip gloss! I have never met a 9 year old girl who didn’t
want to play dress up once and a while. This explains why my bracelets, purses
and other fashion trinkets have never been worn or found anywhere in the house.
I swear my first word was gloss!

Cordless Phones

            My mother, in a past life,
has done something that now causes every single cordless phone that reaches her
hands to die and painful death. This year alone, she has gone through four
phones. She got so desperate she has had a phone that plays Christmas tunes
when it rings. My brother called me last night to tell me mom killed her latest
phone. Seriously, I do not know what she does to them. At first I thought she
just kept draining the battery but it’s been nearly ten years now and it can’t
always be the same thing. So now my brother wants to buy her a new phone for Christmas.
Maybe she’d do better with a corded phone. We can always buy her a six foot
cord.

I started working on my Christmas cards. I’m such an ass to take this
on. It’s going ok but I’m realizing that buying a pre-printed card is so much
more appealing now than ever before.

MIL has called with a definite. She’s coming next week. Of course if it
snows, she may change her mind again. I’m going to go ahead as if she’s coming.
Which means my list of to dos has doubled. She wants a facial so I need to call
the spa. She wants a haircut so I have to find the number again. Finally, she’s
coming so I need to make my beer bread, stock up on whole wheat bread and buy
some fish because she’s not going to be eating steak like Lrudlrick and I do. I
swear we eat so much red meat; I’m going to have to be careful if I ever find
myself in a cattle ranch. They’ll start a stampede just to trample me.

Mightiest monster in all creation! Ravishing a universe for love!

As of late, I've been very lethargic.

Partly because I'm getting over some physical issues.

Partly because my new job is frenetic.

Partly because it's the holiday season and I'm frickin' nuts.

I've taken on an ambitious task this holiday season. As if last year's Turkey day hasn't shown me what ambition will get you, I've taken on cookie and card making this year.

Since we decided that Thanksgiving will be an every other year event for me, you would think I'd take this time for respite. Of course OCPD-pantrygirl is not having it.

In addition to my usual ribs for potluck Thanksgiving, this year, I've placed it upon myself to try to make an appetizer for this shindig. Of course it can't just be pigs in a blanket. (What the hell is wrong with me?) At first I thought I'd try my hand at chinese baked pork buns but then realized I'm already bringing pork ribs so that would just be too porky. (Last time I made pork, ham and pancetta within a week of each other, my apartment smelt like a rendering farm.)

Then in a moment of pure insanity/clarity I thought a vegetable appetizer would balance out the whole rib thing. (Why does my brain torture me?) So tonight, I guess I'll flip through some recipe books and see what I can come up with. I may just make mini veggie turnovers. I've done that before. It's not like I have to try to make something new from my repertoire. (OCPD-pantrygirl will think otherwise.)

I swear OCPD-pg has some kind of 'Free Martha' thing going on in her mind. Cause aside from the appetizers she came up with handmade cards for Christmas. (Again, what the hell is wrong with me?)

So my card materials came in yesterday. See, I make cards. I'm nutty like that. But why does OCPD-pg (who shall now be known as Mothra) think that making cards during the holiday season would be a good idea? Don't I have enough rope to hang myself with already?

Anywho, so my projects list keeps mounting.

And to top this off, I've decided that I'll make my Christmas cookies like last year but expand the recipient's list. To make my life easier, sugar cookies are out this year but my famous chocolate chips are in. That way, I don't have to worry about rolling and cutting shapes out and decorating. This year's new cookie will be a decorative pane glass cookie. I have yet to decide if it will be a star, circle or gingerbread. I figure I can make one of these cookies and place it on the top of the box so people can use it to hang on their tree (or eat it).

Oh, and of course, I have to make a diabetic cookie for our diabetic/atkins buddies. I'm leaning towards a dipped cookie.

Then Mothra decides that since we have a few more Jewish friends/family added to our list this year, not to mention the fact that our building is primarily Jewish families, it would be nice to learn how to make rugelach. (I won't even ask the question.) Sure, many of the devout will not eat them from a gentile house but hey, my boss will.

Finally, cookies, cards and appetizers isn't enough, I'm determined to finish the family wall before my MIL shows up. Now, you have to understand that for me, picking pictures and arranging them in a frame takes more than 45 mins per frame. And essentially, I can only get past two frames per day. And I've got at least 6 frames left to do. Not to mention that I have to still scan the ancient photos to avoid destroying them.

I swear, Mothra needs to chill.

Do not make me Pong your ass

The first rule of MahJong Fight Club is - you do not talk about MahJong Fight Club.

The second rule of MahJong Fight Club is - you DO NOT talk about MahJong Fight Club even in Cantonese.

Third rule of MahJong Fight Club, someone yells "Ho Yeah!", goes limp, taps out, the fight is over.

Fourth rule, only four guys to a fight. No partnering.

Fifth rule, one fight at a time, fellas.

Sixth rule, no "bai sea", no "sea fut loong".

Seventh rule, fights will go on as long as they have to.

And the eighth and final rule, if this is your first night at MahJong Fight Club, you have to fight. Cheat cards are to your right, Gwai lo.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

So I started holiday shopping for the kids yesterday.

AAA had some sort of special event where they closed Toys R Us to members only
so you can shop without the crazy crowds.

We walk in and not ten minutes into the whole maddening event, a kid runs
towards me with a bloody tissue over his nose. He weaves to the right. I weave
to the right. He weaves to the left. I weave to the left. Ten seconds later I
hear a woman go, "Again! What's up with the bloody noses?"

This year we have 3 girls and 2 boys to buy toys for. All others get moola.
It makes life that much easier for me. (Especially since, I'm torturing myself
with my ambitious cookie feats. I'll tell you later.)

L:"Well, lead the way, woman."

pg: "What do you mean me? I don't have kids. How the hell am I supposed to know
what they want. Besides, these are your cousins. My cousins in their right
mind live in other states."

L:"This is supposed to be fun. Don't start."

pg:"I'm not."

L:"This is starting."

pg:"No I'm not. In fact, you started."

L:"See."

pg:"See what? Don't put you hand up at me. Can I talk? Can I talk? Ok.
I didn't start this."

L:"All I'm saying is that you have the list. So I'm going to follow you."

pg:"What? Whatever. Just remember, 7,8,9,11. Ok?"

L:"Where to?"

pg:"Ooh! Incredibles!"

[BTW, all arguments b/w Lrudlrick and myself consist of:

• The talk to the hand


• Can I talk?


• I've let you talk. Can I talk?


• Don't start.


• I'm not. You started.]

Twenty minutes ater, I've lost Lrudlrick.

We sort of have 1 gift (a backup gift) out of 5 and I've lost my husband
in the toy store.

Figuring he'll find his way to the electronics, I stand by the electronics
section flipping through the catalog for inspiration.

That's when I felt old. Seriously old. I had no clue what kid would like what.
I also felt a tinge of sexism. I found it easier to pick ideas for the boy kids
easier than the girl kids. If we decide to have kids and they are girls, I'm
in serious trouble.

Sure enough Lrudlrick makes his way to the electronic section with his arms loaded.
I'm excited until I realize that he's got all boy toys and essentially they are
for himself.

He shows me a crazy loopy race track thingy with crashing cars that spin out
of control. He suggests this for the 8 year old with a natural caffeine supply.
"That looks really noisy and potentially super hyperactive."

We double back to the track toys and find a cool pack and go glow in the dark
race track that doesn't look like it would be too loud or too hyperactive.
Then I tell Hubby we seriously need to focus on the girls.

"The boys just are easier."

Tell me about it. Then the thoughts of inadequacy as a parent crawl in again.

"Ok, before we go to pink and lacy land, let's get you the spy toy you wanted."

We head to the spy gear place and pick up those listening device thingies. Ok,
you know how Monica and Rachel had ugly naked guy across the way from their window?
Well, we have topless fat man by us. I give him credit though. Like clockwork,
every Tuesday and Thursday evenings he's peddling his heart out on the stationary
bike while I sit on my ass eating Chinese while watching 24 or Law and Order.
Anyway, hubby thinks that he can use the listening device to hear topless fat man.
Why? I have no idea.

We head to the girl section and aside from Lrudlrick glazing over and my culture
shock, we looked like we fit right in. So much so that a saleslady who looked 16
came over and asked if I needed help. Yes, for god's sake. Help me!

She tells me anything with Bratz on them are a big hit. Of course, she doesn't
tell you that Bratz is 6 aisles of big headed dolls with matching accessories.
Then she mentions electronic laptops are big now. "Barbie has three new ones out.
I think they are about $25.00 each."

Peeking both my husband and my interest we shuttle our butts to electronics.
I'm guess by this 16 year old's math skills, her school is in need of business
mathematics classes (yes, my school had such a class). $25.00 looks like $36.00
on the butt ugly orange sticker.

"We've got to hurry up. It's 8pm!"

Thanks Mr. Been-Gone-for-20-minutes-and-all-I-got-is-a-remote-control-car-and-
twenty-gagillion-battery-packs-for-myself.

Determined to leave with the 5 gifts I planned to purchase, I run quickly to my
safe place, the crafts aisles. I pick up make your own makeup kits and a knitting
machine for the girls. Nothing says, keep the kids entertained after Christmas
dinner more than make your own whatchamacallit.

Two kids down. I send my husband to the electronics software section to pick up
something for his brainiac sister and I run to baby land to pick up something for
a 6 month old. (If he glazed over in girl land, I could only imagine what he'd
do in babyland.)

I run to the electronics section and he seems lost, for the first time.

"I don't know what to get her."

I find a "My First Digital Camera" and we book to the nearest short line.

So I'm standing on line and I rummage through the circular to find the $10.00
gift card coupon. I start to run for the door to grab a new circular when I
turn around and Lrudlrick has run off leaving the cart unattended on line as if
it would naturally move forward and start unloading itself.

Good grief. He's run off to check out more toys.

Seriously, I need to buy one of the those velcro harnesses that kids wear these days
to keep tabs of him.

Oh, and he doesn't understand why the bill came up to $200 when my Christmas list budget only totals $120 for the kid toys. Hmmmmmm.....

On a side note, why is it that every frickin' toy has to have either 1 battery or
3 batteries? It's never 2 or 4. It's like frickin' hot dogs and buns.

Happy Happy Happy. Everybody Happy.

Signs your building is nuts:

1. Committees up the wazoo

    Samples include: 

• Individual Washing Machine Committee


• Laundry Room Committee


• Gym Committee


• Newsletter Committee


• Itty Bitty Ninny Committee

2.  Safety Meetings with Local Law Enforcement turns into gripe of

• why are kids playing ball in the park at night


• why are kids skateboarding and bicycling around the park entrance


• why are boys hanging out in front of the girls high school after school

3.  Requests for work must come in triplicate form*

    I just received a memo that quadruplet forms are the new
forms.

4.  Socials and yes, the building has several socials must be
non-denominational events

    Hence the December get together cannot be called Kwanzaa,
Christmas, Hanukkah or any other affiliated event.

    Forget about the star cookies I hoped to bake.

The New Ending...

"All across the country, people are experiencing the fallout of one of the
toughest losses of their lives. Like one giant communal hangover, our hearts and
minds are filled with regret, despair and dismay...We poured ourselves into the
fight, yet only to suffer a devastating defeat. - Ian Inaba

'the fight continues and
we will be heard.'

Pantrygirl says

It's a good day when your tightest pants fit loosely around your hips.

MA.ALD: Masters in Architectural Lavatory Design

I find that the more time that passes b/w hair washing, the better my hair looks.

I know that sounds disgusting.

I guess when, it's too clean, it just doesn't do what it's supposed to do.

But I digress. My real topic for my rant today is bathrooms, public bathrooms to
be exact.

Now, I know a thing or two about bathrooms. If you've seen the number of bathrooms
I've seen in Chinatown, you will know what I'm talking about.

I've been in stalls where my short legs are hanging out of the door in order for
me to squat.

I've been in stalls where my 34 inch hips push out on either sides ala '3PO! 3PO!'.

If you are a stall outside of Chinatown, you should not have a poorly planned layout.

Take bathroom stall number 1 in Pizzeria Uno's on Central Avenue.

A bathroom in a modern day chain restaurant should not require acrobatics on the
part of the visitor.

Imagine having to use the bathroom (picture, the pee pee dance).

Running into the stall.

Being grateful that their is room for you to pull your pants down.

As you do the hover (yes, ladies hover) you look to your right for the toilet paper.

No toilet paper.

You look to your left.

No toilet paper.

You look in the front.

No toilet paper.

You look behind you.

The toilet paper holder has been installed behind the toilet to the far left hand
side.

As you continue to hover, you desperately attempt to reach the roll that seems to
be 3 inches away from your reach.

Now I have long arms for a petite person. Heck, sometimes when I'm hunched over,
I look like a skinny version of the gorilla in that Bugs Bunny cartoon where the
drunk stork loses the baby gorilla and tries to pass of Bugs as the baby of primates.

So at this point, I'm trying to stay fairly over the loo as I'm desperately
reaching for the toilet paper roll. I finally grab a hold of the end (thanks to
the extra millimeters Janets suggested I keep on my nails).

Of course, it doesn't end there.

For some god forsaken reason they've installed those el cheapo toilet paper rolls.

You know the ones.

The ones that rip every two squares.

Like two squares wipes anything that needs wiping.

So I'm vainly trying to gather enough squares to properly clean myself off.

I'm so frustrated by the whole event, when completed, I flush the toilet and
leave the stall without zipping up.

In walks two teenage girls mortified that I'm walking out with my zipper open and
a red face of frustration.

Someone needs to have a lavatory design degree. Fix our loos!

Home, Work and Self: The Balancing Act

It's been awhile I know.

This week has been another hectic one. This time, I've been busy
on all ends, work, home and self.

Funny how all this news on Arafat has come and go. An editorial
in the Post or was it the News said it best.

He's a terrorist. There is no need to fill our airwaves with his
death and illness. One notification shall suffice.

MIL said she's coming in December now. If you all know by now,
she's been saying she'll be coming down since June.

She's serious now. She's given me a date. She didn't mention
whether her husband was coming so I assume she's coming solo and
I took days off already to take her around town for visits and
errands.Lrudlrick think otherwise but has decided to take days off too.

At the same time, we submitted our names to a home security show
for the Discovery channel and they seem interested. Lrudlrick is
coordinating it. Supposedly, they break in to our apartment steal
our stuff then make some security adjustments and try breaking in
again. So pretty much, we have to allow ourselves to be violated.

Baby cousin's getting baptized this weekend, mom is in San Fran
visiting her in-laws and brother is dating a princess.

On the home front, I finally cleaned the house. God what I would do for
a maid to come once a week. But usually it's not that bad. It
only got to the point of disorganization after I did battle with
a cold that zapped my OCD into submission. At one point I had
clothing on the dining room table (I abhor clothing, clean or
dirty, being in a place it shouldn't be. This all comes from
watching my mom leave clothes all over the living room, porch and
spare bedroom.).

Then while I was still ill and hopped up on Nyquil (Blue pills rock!)
I woke up from what I thought was Chinese water torture.
I ran out of bed and into the bathroom where I saw a waterfall stream
down from the ceiling.

We had notified the super four weeks ago that we didn't want to wait
until the ceiling caved in. He yes-ed us to death and now at 6:30
in the morning I'm racing to get a bucket and towels to dry off
the floor. Lrudlrick was livid and called the super's cell. I
called in and waiting at home for the super. We even got the keys
from our neighbors so they could go upstairs to investigate.

Finally at 1pm the super shows up and after several phone calls
and my Lrudlrick running home, we had the managing agent, board
president and super scrambling to ensure us that it would get
fixed tomorrow am.

"Is it an emergency?"

"I don't know what you call an emergency, but water shooting out of my
ceiling into a bucket isn't what I consider quality of living." - Lrudlrick.

So now, I have to take another day off so they can scrape and
re-paint our bathroom ceiling. I bet I'll have to mix the paint.
We mix our wall color paint with standard white to avoid that
stark "OH MY GOD, IT'S THE CEILING" look.

So essentially, because of my illness, the household chores of the week were
pushed back.

Hence, laundry wasn't picked up until yesterday.

Dry cleaning hasn't been picked up all week.

Groceries have not been ordered.

Dog Food is non existent.

Presents for baptism and baby shower (for a co-worker) not bought.

Christmas cards not designed. (Yes, anal retentive self has decided that

I'll make my cards this year. I'm such an ass.)

Not to mention, family wall hasn't even begun to take shape since last week.

Bro is lending me his scanner so I don't ruin the older pics.

And now that mom's visiting in-laws, I need to haul my ass to her house to
pick up the scanner and some capes she knitted for a friend. Oh, yes,
she's gone loco knitting scarves and capes. So I figure, why not
sell them for her. Which reminds me, I need to call Bro to make
sure he's home before he leaves for the camping trip so I can
pick them and his scanner up.

On the self front, I've been busy reading and doing some introspection.
It's hard to do when Lrudlrick is around. I try not to be so self absorbed
around him.

On the work front, I've realized that my projects are never
ending projects. This realization, of course, came after a very
hectic and frustrating day at work. I kept feeling like I
couldn't accomplish anything. With that feeling plus the need to
take days off of work, I felt I was being pushed at home and I
was really pissed about that.

I know it's minor compared to the push I'll eventually feel when we have kids
but I hated that fact that I had to decide and the decision had to be home.
This made me angrier. I was choosing work over home and that's just wrong.
I know my job isn't a high profile, "OH MY GOD, SHE'S THE ONLY
ONE WITH THE DEACTIVATION CODES!" kind of job. But I pride myself
in my work and the ability to do my job above and beyond. Which
lead me to ask, "Why?" Sure I can say monetary but to be
truthfully, they'd pay me just the same even if I did half the
work I do and at half the effort. So is it my home life? No. I
love my home life and Lord knows I've got plenty at home that I
need to do so it's not like I'd be sitting on my ass. I honestly
don't know right now why I was so upset that I had to choose home
over work. Maybe it was that I had no choice in the matter. I'll
figure it out eventually.

Why?

I'm ill and this is not helping me get better:

Turkey & Gravy Jones Soda

"The first sips bring a mix of sweet caramel and savory lard — and it's
downhill from there."

God I love those little Green and Orange pills. Nyquil rocks.

Today I'm a grumpus.

I can't help it. Ok I can but choose not to. I'm sicker today and I really think it's because I inversed the old "Starve a cold, Feed a fever." old wives tale.

The last two days, although I was sick, I ate very little and felt great.
Now, after eating like a pig, all I want to do is crawl into my bed and sleep.

I guess it's back to liquids.

I can't concentrate and to make it worse, my new office is in chaos due to a move. They are pulling all the equipment out of the equipment room and moving in a finance guy. So now I've got a coat rack and a printer outside of my office. The noise is annoying and I just want to close my office door but I'm trying not to be rude.

Since the equipment hasn't be networked, I'm in limbo as far as printing out a colored copy of a report I need for my 2pm meeting. I'm not playing Pixelus until lunch and then plan to pass out at some point before my 2pm meeting. I seriously need more meds but am too lazy and too cold to walk to the drugstore. Funny isn't it. I work in a Medical School and I can't get meds.

Not even wearing my new pumps has made me feel better. Ok, maybe a little.

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Now everyone is talking about Rob Cordry's remarks on how NY'ers must be too close to the terrorism and homosexuals to make an informed decision. The red states need to wrangle us back in to realize the situation of the state of the union.
God, that was hysterical. All in all, most Ny'ers are past the shock and I'm sure acceptance will hit soon. Me, disbelief is still there but resignation has surfaced. Maybe that's why I feel so ill.

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I'm looking forward to some entertainment and if I have to down a bottle of Dayquil to see The Incredibles tonight, by golly, I'm doing it. I know I'm a kid at heart. I've been looking forward to this for a while. I don't care if it sucks, which I hope it doesn't.

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Arafat. I said it first. Arafat is being kept alive to allow the shift of power to be arranged and to arrange his burial. Anyone see Dave?

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Unbelievably, the holiday season is around the corner. I started pulling out my Christmas list. I am so not ready for the Holidays. I know it's early but usually my OCD has me revving to go. Could it be my OCD is waning? Or will I get hit with a one two? Since I did Thanksgiving last year, I'm doing Christmas dinner this year. I'm thinking of a roast. My mother, who somehow came across two turkeys, is thinking turkey. I may go nuts and do both. Heck, my gas is back on.
Speaking of which, Lrudlrick made an awesome filet mignon last night. Very tasty.
But alas, as I said before, with this cold, I'm going to have to stick to clear liquids even if it kills me. :-(

The Lesson Learned

"The Bush camp has been rewarded for its tactics of distortion and derision. Bush and Dick Cheney appealed to people's fears. And the lesson for them and the Republicans is clear:
This worked, let's do more."

Aaarrgh! I have a stocking eating desk!

New office. New desk.

New desk likes stockings.

Ruined 3 pairs already.

Damn you stocking eat desk!

Do you know how much stockings cost?

Third day waiting at the bus stop with kindergarten knees.

Hot Potato! Hot Potato! Blame the Blogger!

FYI, your theory can make the 11 o'clock news.

With any poll, results can be manipulated to the desired result.

Are you saying, Mr. News Organization, that you relied on information combed from bloggers instead of market research firm data?

Not that that data is any better. Sorry, Honey. :-(

Back, Left, A, Right Trigger, Y

The day after and I'm less sullen.

I've resigned myself to what Lrudlrick has said, "Well, at least, it's only four more years."

On a happy note, our gas was turned on Monday. Lrudlrick bought 3 lbs of filet mignon at Western Beef and we had a feast.

Luckily I brought in the leftover cookies to work yesterday. After yesterday's news all the leftover Halloween candy and the chocolate chip cookies were eaten before Kerry could make his concession speech.

Tuesday and Wednesday were spent battling a cold that has taken over my nasal passages. One nostril runs while the other is blocked to maximum capacity. Why does your nose do that? After 8 years together with Lrudlrick, I have no shame. I spent last night watching Jon Stewart with a wad of tissue up one nostril while trying to breathe from the stuffed one.

Comfort is a funny thing. Now, I'm not saying I'm all for peeing in front of your spouse. In fact, for me, bathroom time, is me time. It's bad enough that the dogs walk in and sit and stare at me when I'm on the jon. I really don't need you standing on the other side of the door, asking how I'm doing. And not to be rude but, can't the "where is" question wait until I've done my business? But there are certain things that you'd probably be mortified doing in front of anyone but the marriage vows make it seem ok to do in front of your spouse.

Ok, being sick, your mindset isn't about being attractive. You're more into comfort so illness is not a good example. I guess I hit the nail. You hold back from certain actions/nuances because of attraction. But with marriage comes this clause, "I love you and find you attractive no matter what. Ok, mostly no matter what. There are exceptions, of course."

Lrudlrick's Obsession of the moment:

A new mixing panel he can connect to pc. He's doing something with the 'Blinded me with Science' song but he has yet to share.

Pantrygirl's Bitch session

What's up with the character profiles in Def Jam's Fight for NY?

Sure, I can fight Carmen Electra but I can't make my own profile?

I've been relegated to creating a guy. I added a foot in height and 100 lbs and tried my darndest to pick features that I think I'd have as a guy. I still turned out looking like Lrudlrick's character. [No, married people should not look that alike.]

I give you props for the cool shopping. I'd like to just shop but I have to fight to get moola to shop. :-(

Come on Def Jam, make some girl profiles will ya? Oh, and while we're on this topic, who else thinks it would kick ass to have customizable profiles for Dead or Alive? I'd make my profile have huge bouncy boobs just because.

Finally, has anyone beaten this game with marital arts? I'm wearing my fingers into stubs in martial arts mode. Muthafunga said I should try street fighter. I might just have to do that.

Election 2004: If I pinch myself hard enough, will I wake up?

I can't seem to concentrate.

Everything is in a blur.

I'm scared.

How can this be?

Have we become mindless drones?

Am I the only one awake?

I feel like I'm in this sick and twisted horror movie where everyone is walking along in single file and I'm the only one with clarity.

Why?

Words to Live By

You can only do something about your own situation.

Related tags: words to live by