I'm really not that busy

Finding hilarity in the mundane since 2008

Monthly Archives: March 2009

So I like to talk to strangers

Well… not ALL strangers.  
I don’t like to talk to strangers at a party or other function.  In a group situation, I freeze up. I’m not a joiner so groups of people who already have a connection make me feel intrusive.  I also don’t do well in situations where I’m expected to carry the conversation.  I can be funny and charming, but only if it is unexpected.  Therefore, I like to talk to strangers… if it’s a hit and run interaction.
Today, at (it’s Monday, so say it with me) Wal-Mart, I had a great exchange with a guy.  In fact, I think he was my twin.  He was a very tall, very well-dressed, very dark-skinned, very gay, black man.  Totally my twin, right?  
Okay, so not my look-alike twin, but possibly my personality twin.
We were both in the frozen entree section checking out the Lean Cuisines.  At one point we were dodging around each other to make a selection and I said, “Hey, let’s make up a new dance and call it the Lean Cuisine shuffle.”  To which he replied, “I was just thinking the words Lean Cuisine Shuffle to myself!”  So we laughed and then he said, “I like Lean Cuisine because they have such a large selection.  Have you tried this new fish one?  It’s really good.”  To which I replied, “That’s my favorite!”  Then we got into a very animated conversation about Lean Cuisine and other frozen convenience food.  We liked all the same stuff and he was relieved to hear that Jo’s nutritionist says Lean Cuisines are a good frozen meal choice because they are “clean” (that means made with food, not chemicals).  Then he looked in my cart and said, “Look, we have the same produce too.” 
And we really did, from the mandarin oranges to the portobello mushrooms.  From the blueberries to the red, yellow, and orange (but not green because they can be bitter) bell peppers.  I had a few more things than him, but it was still eerily similar.
Then something hit me, his cart was what mine would look like if I were single.  So I said, “I’ll bet you’re almost done, aren’t you?”  He said he was and added that it looked like I was too.  At this I shook my head sadly and said, “Nope, I’m just getting started.  I have two boys and a husband to feed.” So, the spell was broken.  We said our good-byes.  I headed toward the dairy section where I selected four different types of milk for the four members of my family.  He probably headed to the “you can’t come into this super-fun, super-exclusive area because you are a short, married, white-woman and your toddler has a snot river running directly from his nose to your shirt” section.
We passed once more in the coffee aisle.  We bought the same coffee too, but his phone rang so he could only give me a smile and a wink over it.
The best part about the whole interaction for me was when his phone rang and he answered it with, “This is Jason.”
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So we are in the Big D

The mom-mobile is officially re-named the dance-mobile (AKA, the party bus, but only after dark). The dance-mobile is part of a tour guide business Huck & Jo have created.

The tour offers some fascinating sites such as the rear view of the West Plano Super Target. The tunes are indiscriminate and loud. The fart jokes are frequent and often involve demonstrations. Jo does the driving and the bulk of the narrative during all tours. Her catch phrase is “Expect More, Pay Less.” She insists that she coined the phrase and is considering legal action. Huck is mostly around for comic relief and to chop pretend limes for imaginary tequila shots.

We are excellent role models.

So I can’t think of a title yet…. my brain’s not working right

I don’t understand the way my brain works sometimes.  I will be going along all nice and normal and then my brain gets a case of the shivers.  Suddenly, I’m all weirded out and talking about repairmen, tootsie rolls and corn zippers.  I can partly explain it away with sleep deprivation, copious coffee consumption and terrible eating habits.  I’m like the secret third Gilmore Girl, all the bad habits, none of the good looks or charm.  Okay, so I’m kind of cute and adorably charming when I want to be, but I’m still no Gilmore.

I’m a smart person.  I can finish the Sunday crossword, I’m good at Algebra (hell, I made a C in calculus in college and I only showed up on test days), and I have excellent problem solving abilities.  So why do I use the wrong toothbrush about once a week?  
Truck and I store our toothbrushes side-by-side.  Quite often I glance in the mirror and see that I am using his toothbrush.  I buy our toothbrushes.  I ALWAYS buy him a blue toothbrush and I myself a pink one (or purple because sometimes pink is sold out – quite a popular toothbrush color).  I mean, really, it’s not like I am in such a hurry that can’t bother with life’s details. You’ve seen the title of the blog, I’m really not that busy.  So why do the details slip past me a lot of the time?  Blue = Truck, Not Blue = Me.
Crap, I’ve just lost the whole thread of this post….  let’s see…. talked about how my brain trips up and thinks about weird stuff – check; mentioned the weird toothbrush thing – check. What else was I going to say?  Oh yeah, I remember completely worthless crap from years ago and forget important current stuff, like to buy more milk.
For example, I had a crazy English teacher in 10th grade.  I remember all sorts of ridiculous stuff about her personally and her class in general.  She gave these killer vocabulary tests.  I used mnemonic devices to get me through those tests.  I still remember a lot of those vocabulary words and the device I made up to go with them.  For the word ubiquitous (this means present everywhere, like Twilight) I made up a scenario where the entire world had become lazy and stopped working except for one person.  This one person stood on a street corner shouting at all the lazy people and at one point he yelled “You big quitters are ubiquitous.”
Get it?  You big quitters sounds a lot like ubiquitous?  No?  Well, clearly it worked for me because I still remember it TWENTY YEARS LATER.  Holy freaking Soul II Soul, that was twenty years ago?  Shit.
Anyway,  I remember the definition of ubiquitous and never hear it without picturing a world full of lazy folks, but I can’t remember to buy milk unless I write it on a piece of paper.  
My brain sucks.

So I got a bit freaked out for a moment

Remember when I did the “Jennifer needs” post?  If not, you can click here to refresh your memory.  

One of the things Google thought I needed was: to date Jason.  
So I was all snarky about Google and it’s stupid thoughts about my needs.  No shit, right? 
Tonight I got a new twitter follower named, dun dun dun, JASON.
I actually got the heebie jeebies when I saw it.  
The main reason I tweet is because my dad tweets. We drop little tidbits about our life on each other.  It’s nice.  
Until today, my dad was my only follower.  I don’t do clever or interesting tweets.  140 characters is not enough room for my fabulous powers of expression (uh-huh, I said it, you know you were thinking it).  I never expected to have any other followers.
So I was about to go to bed, but I had to figure out who this Jason was and why he was following me on twitter.  I imagined some crazy pedophile because I mostly tweet about the kids.
Turns out it was MUCH more sinister than that.
Jason turned out to be a make-crap-loads-of-money-on-google-spammer.
Well played, Google.  Revenge is a dish best served cold and all.

So I don’t have anything to add about octomom

I certainly can’t say anything nice about octomom.  I can’t say anything original either. Other folks already used up all the funny on that topic.  Seriously, is there anything left you would like to know about that woman?  Just sayin’.

I know you’re wondering why I’m even bringing her up.  It’s been weeks since her fifteen minutes should have run out, yet here I am perpetuating her ridiculous fame by giving the googlers something else to find when they search for her.  Sorry googlers, I’m done with her now.
I’m just using octomom as a lead in to my own little medical miracle/cultural phenomenon: octotoddler. 
I suspected Worm was octo-like, but I had no idea until I Wikipediaed (yes I make up words, a lot) for octo-info.
Let’s just compare, shall we?
Octopus – has eight arms
Worm – has eight arms, at least. I’m still trying to get an accurate count
Octopus – able to squeeze through unusually tight spaces 
Worm – able to squeeze behind the couch, convincingly cry as if he were stuck, giggle and pop out when you rush to his rescue
Octopus – knows to build forts for protection 
Worm – knows to burrow under his “night-night” when sad or sleepy
Octopus – creates traps for food
Worm – traps mama with puppy dog eyes and big tears when snacks are not forthcoming
Octopus – extremely gifted escape artist using techniques such as hiding, fleeing, camouflage, and expelling ink as a distraction
Worm – extremely gifted escape artist using techniques such as hiding, fleeing, camouflage, and expelling ink…. okay, he has the hiding & fleeing down.  He wears these cute camo pants and really likes to color on himself with markers, that’s kind of like an octopus, right?
Octopus – does not enjoy haircuts
Worm – really really does not enjoy haircuts.
Okay, so the secret’s out, I made up that last fact.  Octopuses may actually enjoy haircuts, I couldn’t find data, so I went with my gut on that one.  
All signs point to this – I have an octotoddler.  I expect the paparazzi any minute now.  I would like to clarify that I will not allow any pictures to be published and he will not do any interviews, without monetary compensation, that is.  I did learn something from octomom.

So spring break is making me dread summer

It’s noon on the first day of Spring Break.  I’m already sick of it.  I decided to get a bit off schedule this week to give myself an idea what this summer is going to be like.  It’s gonna suck.
I barely deviated from my schedule and today already sucked. A. LOT.
Instead of getting showered and dressed before the kids got up, I waited until they had both finished breakfast.  I thought this would be a good test of Worm’s tolerance.  Turned  out to be a test of mine. Rather than having a relaxing, albeit early, shower, I had ten measly minutes of anxiously peering through the steamy door to see what dangers Worm had found in the bathroom and yelling over the water at Huck to remove said dangers from his chubby baby clutches. I did not shave, I did not use my exfoliating facial scrub, I might not have rinsed all the conditioner out of my hair.  My shower sucked.  Really, really sucked.  Looks like I am getting up at 5 a.m. every day for 3 more years.  Either that or start trimming back my hygiene requirements.  Hairy legs, clogged pores, and limp hair could be my new look.  Sure.
The only other deviation was going to Wal-Mart with both boys at 10 a.m. instead of 8:30 a.m. with only Worm.  Can you guess how it was?  That’s right, it sucked.
Huck is a little impulse shopping machine.  He is also a talker, and a fidgeter, and a dawdler, and a wonderer, and a daydreamer, and all sorts of other things that make me INSANE when I’m trying to get something done. 
Huck has been refusing to go to the grocery store with me for about two years.  I remember why now.  About two years ago he got too big to ride in the cart.  Having a task to focus on AND a child to look after makes me really cranky.  I get anxious because I can’t accomplish the chore efficiently and I can’t look after the child with 100% focus which makes me uncomfortable. From the minute we got out of the car to the minute we got back in it, I was one big ball of nerves and I totally took it out on Huck.
When he got ahead of me, I called him back.  When he got behind me, I told him to keep up. When he stopped to look at something, I told him to stop staring like an idiot and either ask me for it or keep moving.  When he began playing a game that involved weird facial expressions and jerky dance moves, I hissed at him to stop.  When he kept up a running play-by-play of the shopping trip for twenty minutes (I’m fairly certain this was without actually pausing to breathe), I said “GOOD GOD, CAN I GET FIVE MINUTES OF SILENCE?” Loudly. In the cereal aisle.  Next to a super-mom in yoga pants, no body fat, and a toddler who was reading from the grocery list in two languages.  No shit.  Except for the bilingual toddler part.  She might have been trilingual.
Basically, I treated him so rudely that I apologized once we got home and told him I would find a way to continue shopping without him this summer.  He accepted my apology and agreed we did not make a good grocery team.
I know one trip to Wal-Mart is not indicative of our entire summer, but it could be if I don’t start making plans now.  Let’s face it, I have to have a schedule.  Even during spring break. Even during summer.  There will be no lazy hazy days of summer for us.  It would make me too crazy.

So I have more to add

In fact, society is against being early as well as rising early.

If you are invited to someone’s home for dinner at 6 p.m. and you ring the bell at 6:05 do you apologize for being late?  No, because no one considers that late.  
However, if you arrive at 5:55 you would totally apologize for being early.
I am early for everything and I am tired of feeling bad about it.
If I show up early to your house, just point me to the beer and assign me a chore because you are probably running late and could use my help.

So the whole world is against me

I am an early riser.  My kids are early risers.  We get up, get dressed, and do….. nothing. 

The world caters to those who are traditionally employed or those who lay in bed all day.  It seems as though my choices must be, get a real job or sleep late.
I would love to shop somewhere  other than Wal-Mart or Target, but no where else is open before 10 a.m.  I would truly love to give my husband’s hard earned dollars to local businesses, but they are never open!  Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but they aren’t open when I want to shop there.
I am dreading summer.  What am I supposed to do with my kids from 6:30 a.m. until 10 a.m.? That is a LOT of time to spend at home with your kids.  Seriously.  Normally, when they are really wearing on my nerves, it is late afternoon, so I drink a beer.  Drinking at 4 p.m. because your kids make you want to watch Mommie Dearest for pointers is okay.  
Drinking at 8 a.m. is alcoholism.
The world is against me and wants me to become a lush.
Please someone start opening earlier before I have to preemptively remove all the wire hangers from my home.

So I have 20 stolen minutes!!!!!

Some family is in town and we have to put in an appearance tonight.  Luckily the gathering is at Banana’s house and she lives around the corner from me.

Anyway, Coco just dropped in on her way over and took my boys with her.  I have brownies in the oven, so I can’t head over just yet.  
I could do some quickie chore like fold that mountain of laundry on the kitchen table.  I could take care of some personal task like file my raggedy finger nails.  I could read a chapter out of one of the many books I am reading.  Hell, I could just sit for ten minutes and not listen to three TVs, all on different cartoons, blaring at me from every corner of the house.
However, I feel terrible for the two week blog abandonment, so I am going to create a post out of nothing to make sure I fulfill my early promise to see you soon.
I am listening to some Vampire Weekend while I do it, so I am doing something I don’t normally do when the kids are around.  They don’t like the jangly guitar as much as I do.
Crap, I can’t hear the oven timer from the bedroom and I can smell brownies….
… yup, overdone.
The rule on brownies is to take them out of the oven the second you smell them.
Guess they will stay here and we can eat the middle section ourselves and toss the overdone edges!  So sad. 
Okay, my stolen moment is over.  That was so NOT twenty minutes.  See ya soon, but probably not again today.

So I am back again, maybe

Okay, peeps, I’m sorry.  Excuses never explain and explanations never excuse yadda yadda yadda (yes, I just yadda yadda’d over some stuff, but it was nothing interesting).  I’m not that reliable and that’s all I have to say about it.

I was complaining to Jo that part of the problem is I’m running out of blog fodder.  You see, everyday is pretty much the same for me.  I could only write so many posts involving popcorn chicken before I lose all my readers.  Even Jo.  And that’s saying something because she loves me and my kids and will tolerate quite a bit from all of us.
So, I have eleven things recorded on the iPhone, but I don’t think I can stretch any one of them into a whole post.  I am just going to describe the recordings and make some comments.  I know I am letting myself off easy, but you know what I’m going to say, right?  My blog, don’t care. 
  • Worm giggling, water splashing, Huck saying “Hey [Worm] watch this, watch this” Worm giggling even harder.  They must have been playing in the tub.  Very cute.
  • You have to be bread for that.  Huck was watching Bee Movie and heard the line “You have to be bred for that”.  He was not familiar with the word bred, so he thought they meant bread.  A hilarious conversation ensued where he speculated how a bee could become bread and why would the bee have to become bread to do something that bees are supposed to do naturally.  He also wondered if they meant a slice or loaf.  Seriously.  I eventually explained what the word bred meant.  He then asked what Truck and I were breeding him for.  My short answer was “To be a responsible adult and contributing member of society.”  In my head I had all sorts of answers.  I almost said, “To be an evil genius, but you don’t seem to have the evil gene, so I don’t think its going to work out.”  He would have thought this was funny, but he also would have asked me make up a whole story to go with it, and, clearly, I have not been in a story telling mood.  I also considered saying, “To make lots of money to support us in the manner to which we wish to become accustomed.” But there were way too many prepositions in that answer.  I had some other silly answers too, but now I’m ready to move on to the next bullet, the prepositions got me all itchy.
  • A hottie zombie.  We were eating popsicles with jokes on the sticks.  Worm’s joke was: Who won the zombie race?  No one, it was dead even.  Huck and I agreed this wasn’t all that funny, however he did demonstrate a zombie running for me.  That WAS quite funny. Then he said if there was a “hottie zombie” it would win the race.  I asked for clarification and he said “Well, BOY hotties are usually athletes, so it would run faster than the other zombies, but still not very fast ’cause it’s a zombie.”  He also added that he wasn’t sure if girl hotties are fast or not.  (Um, I’m going with, yes they are.  Fast that is.) I complemented him on his logic and then asked that he not use the word hottie to describe attractive people anymore because it is a bit too grown-up sounding for a kindergardener. 
  • Addition and Subtraction is now called Composing and Decomposing.  Huck was telling me about composing and decomposing number sets to make them equal nine. It seriously took me several minutes to figure out that he was talking about math, not musical zombies. What’s wrong with add and subtract?  There are certain words I don’t like and decompose is one of them (slacks is another, in case you are curious).  Huck has certain words he doesn’t like either.  Mistaken is one and legs is another.  Yes, he is my boy.  Yes we are a quirky pair.
  • Apparently Russell Crowe was walking by.  Huck likes to tell me about his dreams.  The other morning he said he dreamed he was at a Science Convention. There was a machine that could take two things and kind of blend them together.  He said he got hit with a ray from this machine while he was holding a Pokemon and he became part human, part Pokemon.  He then added he also could destroy telephones.  I said “Oh so Russell Crowe was walking by when the ray hit you?”  Huck just ignored me and went back to eating breakfast.  That was probably a good idea on his part. 
  • Four seconds of me mumbling.  I have no idea.  I suspect this is what I sound like to other people a lot of the time.  Jumbled and easy to ignore.
  • I went to the trouble to get my car washed and then some fucker with an out of state license plate cleaned their grimy windshield while driving in front of me.  I always feel smug and superior to the other drivers when my car is clean.  Mostly this is because my car is rarely clean, so I can afford the occasional ego trip.  I only got to feel smug for about thirty seconds before someone blew their Florida dirt all over my car, hence the profanity.
  • [Huck] doesn’t like to be stared at while he is eating.  Really, who does?  The reason this was a recordable moment is because I wasn’t really staring at him, I was just sitting across from him and looking straight ahead.  After he told me not to look at him, I very deliberately stared at the wall.  This annoyed him too.  There’s no pleasing some folks.
  • I love my dentist’s office.  The waiting room is nicer than my living room (I mean, A LOT nicer).  The exam chair has gentle massaging action.  There are Aveda products in the restroom.  No one speaks too loudly. I actually feel relaxed and happy when I leave the dentist.  Our insurance pays 100% too.  Unfortunately I have excellent dental hygiene, thus very healthy teeth and gums, so I only go twice a year.  I am thinking about making up a random dental complaint in a few months so I can go back.
  • More mumbling.  This time it is twenty-one seconds of crap I can’t understand.  Who knew I had so much useless shit to say?  Truck, your comments on this point will not be appreciated.
  • Bread, Honey, Laundry Soap, Good Lettuce.  Obviously this is a grocery list.  It’s just funny that I said “good” lettuce.  I like dark greens, but nothing bitter.  Like I’m going to forget what kind of lettuce I like and grab a head of iceberg or a bunch of endive.  Wow, good thing I clarified!
Okay, so there it is.  I have posted.  I will be back tonight or tomorrow afternoon.  I am typing that so that I have some accountability.  See you soon!

So… I’m sort of back

Only sort of, cause I wasn’t really gone.  I don’t feel 100% yet.  I thought if I started typing, something would come out of it.  Let me just apologize in advance if that theory turns out wrong.

Huck has a new Wii game, Mario Kart.  It is unbelievably funny to watch him play.  He talks to the other drivers the entire time, much like I do when I am feeling stress while driving.  When he passes the computer drivers, he mildly gloats.  When they throw obstacles at him or otherwise impede him, he busts out the trash talk.  I am not a road rage sort of person, but heavy traffic makes me uncomfortable.  When I am uncomfortable, I ramble.  I guess playing Mario Kart is like driving in heavy traffic.
He has learned that if he sticks with it, new characters and driving courses will open up.  He unlocked one he really liked yesterday and had this to say: “This course is so cool, and I’m not saying that just because it’s cool.  I’m saying that because it’s COOL!
That actually made perfect sense to me.
Later he was struggling and I offered a pointer.  He declined my assistance in a slightly ruder way than I deserved and immediately said “And don’t call me a sassy-pants!”
To my knowledge I have never called him a sassy-pants.  However, I plan to now. Often.

So I read the Christian Romance today

After I wrote that whiny-ass post about how I was feeling mean and off, I read the Christian Romance novel.

The whole thing.
Cover to cover.
This afternoon.
I did not hate it.
I didn’t like it either, but the fact that I read it without putting it down and then had nothing snarky to say about it is a testament to how off I am.  I could never be an editor.  Not because my grammar sucks (although it does), I couldn’t chop up someone else’s hard work enough to make it palatable and marketable to the general population.
The book takes place in rural Pennsylvania.  It features several Amish characters who say thing like Ach! and Ja!  The main character is a nurse midwife who had a childhood bereft of love because her mother ran away from the Amish and then died shortly after her birth. Her love interest is an ex-Amish cop who is back near his hometown because he had problems with untrustworthy characters in the big city.  The main character reconnects with the Amish family she never met and falls in love with the can’t-hack-it-in-a-real city cop.  She also prays a lot about things that I wouldn’t mention to my cat, let alone send up in a prayer.  I know He listens to it all, but this lady needed to grow a pair and make some decisions!  Slight snark, I must be getting better.
Family, true love and well-placed bible quotes. 
I seriously just read that and did not hate it.  I have a 50 page rule – if I am not into a book by page 50 I walk away from it.  I have read a few books that didn’t make it to page 10, but those were usually due to an author who is attempting to write the conversations in specific dialect and it isn’t working out.  I’m all for GOOD dialect writing, such as Their Eyes Were Watching God, but if I have to read it aloud to comprehend it, it’s going straight to the library donation pile.
Anyway, I expected to invoke the 50 page rule on this one.  Holy Mary Mother of God!  I was caught up in the plot and actually gave a crap if the midwife ended up with the cop.  I also really wanted to know if her Plain grandmother would suffer from hospitalization grade depression because of the memories her long-last granddaughter awakened.  The idea of Amish folks requiring institutionalization for mental illness is intriguing to me.
That is a book I would LOVE to read.  Somebody write about crazy Amish folks.  Please.  Don’t force me to read another unsolicited mailbox book. 

So I have writers block or just a case of the meanies

I don’t know what is up with me.  I just feel off.  

I’m sorry if you are bored and stopped by the blog to kill a few minutes with a silly update about my family or a random theory from my usually unending supply of insanity.  Maybe all my quirky leaked out when we lost that hour this weekend?  Sadly, that is the only theory I can come up with at the moment.
I have a few crazy thoughts recorded on the iPhone.  I am kinda hoping the iPhone and the iBook will just get together later and create the blog for me.  Intelligent software and all…
Lately I have been feeling like I am mean and judgmental instead of self deprecating and good naturedly mocking.  Naturedly is not a word, but I don’t feel like thinking up a better one.  My blog, bite me.  See?  Mean.  Anyway, I don’t really want to be mean and judgmental so maybe a few days off will help me build up more quirky and tamp down the meanies.
Oh, I do have one thing to mention.  I received a random book in the mail yesterday from a service trying to get me to join a book-of-the-month sort of deal.  It is a Christian Romance novel.  
Oh, hell yeah, I’m gonna read it!  Maybe a love story filled with Christian characters will inspire the mean right out of me.  Or maybe it will set off a really good rant.  We’ll see….

So Truck has finally weighed in on my singles website idea

Truck finally got home from Orlando.  It was a really long week for him, so I didn’t push him to catch up on his blog reading.  I am usually anxious to know what he thinks about my latest ramblings, but I was willing to wait for him to decompress.  I didn’t want him to be cranky when he read the dating website idea.
Click here to read his response: Truck’s opinion
I don’t want spyware on my computer.  I also don’t want Big E checking up on me every few days. But mostly, I don’t want to go back to living on Truck’s old paycheck.  Seriously.
If spyware and too much attention from Big E were the only weapons in his arsenal, I would say BRING IT ON.  But messing with my woman of leisure status hits where it hurts.
The poll comes down today and I will never speak of this again.  
P.S. I am seriously surprised that all the votes weren’t NOs.  I thought I was the most morally bankrupt of us all.  Makes me feel better to know a few of you are as sick as me.

So this is for Jo

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