tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58213168874159471082024-03-13T10:09:51.164-05:00The Adventures of BeebsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-55527776262619725412015-10-27T10:04:00.001-05:002015-10-27T10:04:56.606-05:00Getting Older and Wiser? Maybe.I made it to 35! As per usual, I am spoiled. My family and friends have lavished me with love, presents, and food. Honestly, there is no other way to be treated on your birthday. It's all about the eating and the togetherness. We are serious about celebrations, and food and drinks are centerpieces to our family gatherings. I love cooking and eating because of these traditions. But my love of food and my love of lazy has led me down a very overweight and painful path. In the past 5 years, I have been diagnosed and treated for diabetes, high cholesterol, pancreatitis, sleep apnea, degenerative disk disease, and hypothyroidism. I am a walking poster child for most of the bad things you can be diagnosed with due to obesity. But on my way to this realization, I didn't care. Not that I wasn't down on myself for not getting bigger and bigger over the years. My self-esteem wasn't enough of a hindrance to quit my bad habits. Not until every doctor's visit brought more and more pills to take. I knew I had to get serious. so we changed our diet. But that wasn't enough. Nothing I do is ever enough anymore. I can't get past this weight.<br />
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As my doctor was handing me my prescriptions, he was also handing me booklets on weight loss surgery and said told me he would like to refer me. I was resistant. I felt like I hadn't given it a real try at getting the weight off myself. I started walking, went to the gym. But the next visit to the doctor didn't show improvements. He again suggested surgery, and I told him that our insurance excluded it, and we couldn't afford it. I didn't mention it was still too scary to think about, but I called the surgeon's office to confirm what I already knew. I can't afford it, and my insurance will not cover it.<br />
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But now I work for the State of Texas. Big surprise, they do have a high option with bariatric coverage. Approaching my 35th birthday, I thought long and hard about it and researched the options results and risks. Last month on the day the new plan became effective, I called the weight loss center and made my appointment. I have already attended my first consultation with my surgeon and have completed several of the items on my list of pre-op to-do's. One of which was quitting smoking. My plan is to be surgery ready by February, and to take a week off before spring break in March for the surgery, to have a total of 2 weeks off for recovery. I initially set out with the plan of doing the lap band surgery but have since changed my mind and chosen the bypass procedure.<br />
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I am very excited to get beyond this body with all its aches and pains and feel good again. I am going to change my behaviors with food and celebrations and exercise. It's going to be a total life makeover. I know that has risks, but at this point I am ready for it. I will still love to be with my family without food and drinks being the centerpiece, and I might even get the chance to race my nephew down the driveway without fear of blowing out my knees or dying from lack of oxygen. I am not choosing the easy way. Nothing about cutting and rearranging your guts is easy. It's going to be a long road of trials and tribulations. I will do my best to keep a journal of my new Adventures of Beebs. I promise not to get all preachy about food or any more condescending (mostly). I vow here and now to not lie to people about how I am losing weight. Nor will I be ashamed of knowing when I need help and asking for it. It boggles my mind that people hide the fact that they had surgery to lose weight. People tend to notice that you have gone from eating an entire watermelon to something the size of your thumb. (Just saying)<br />
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So that's my birthday present to myself. I plan on being down at least 60 lbs this time next year, the year after I plan on being on being 120 lbs lighter and toeing the 100's line. I don't think I have set unrealistic goals. I've made up my mind, and will prevail. Just you watch me.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-9484436814923658302015-01-27T15:22:00.000-06:002015-01-27T15:22:21.559-06:00Mesquite Grilled Chicken with a Side of IdiotAt the end of 2014, I was exactly where I wanted to be. I was surrounded with friends and family, and we made lovely memories. I had the unique opportunity to take the last two weeks of the year off, and I can tell you that I hope to look forward to doing the same every year from now on. After nearly a year of mind bending work hours and stress, my reward was free time.<br />
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The first month of 2015 is nearly done. It's amazing how slow the days pass, but how quickly the month ends. I am busy learning a million new things at work, and trying to not stay up until 1 am every night watching old episodes of Doctor Who on Netflix. (but it's really hard not to!) So far this year, by back has gone out, and Steven and I both had the crud. Some where in between all of the doctor appointments, it was suggested that the hubby and I should try the Atkins diet. </div>
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Now, I am not a fan of "diets". I believe in lifestyle changes, but the word "diet" suggests a temporary change, or a negative connotation. I had to follow a strictly low fat diet a few years back when my pancreas staged a coup. I was forced into it because I had to allow my body time to recover. I did fine at first, but then I started noticing how unhealthy all the "healthy" processed foods were. Not to mention how nasty the tastes and textures were. Fat Free cheese melts like plastic, and has the same consistency and flavor. I tried, and failed to continue following that diet. Honestly, I couldn't convince myself that all the mechanically and chemically altered foods were in any way good for me. </div>
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But I can't say we aren't eating well now. We eat meat and veggies galore. No more junk food, and no more carbohydrate binges. Real cheese, real meat, nothing processed or otherwise mechanically separated and glued together. We are relatively carb and sugar free, and have been for the past two weeks. There have been no horrible episodes as of yet, but no one has tried to pry the diet coke from my hands. One step at a time.<br />
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Recently, I have made the observation that dieting is a lot like being pregnant. People you don't know often ask invasive questions, and offer unsolicited advice. Just today I was having lunch with my coworker. As our waiter dropped off our food, he asked me if I was on a diet. I was taken aback. I am thinking "What's it it ya?!", but I am polite even in the face of stupidity.(mostly.) I confirmed that I was. He proceeded to tell me a story about his neighbor cutting out sugar and butter and just walking a bit a day, and losing "Like 40 lbs!". Well, thanks waiter for that interesting and uplifting story of your neighbors harrowing journey. I now have the strength to eat this chicken breast and veggie plate. When I lose my first 40 lbs, I will come back here, and thank you for the motivation that carried me onto glory.<br />
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What's next? Is someone going to walk past me in the store, realize I have no signs of junk food in my cart, and ask me how far along I'm coming on my diet? As I lose the pounds are people going to touch my thinning belly and marvel at my weight loss as they would a growing belly of a pregnant woman? No. This cannot continue! Random people of Earth, please do not approach pregnant women or dieting people with an attempt to help them with your own stories of labor or weight loss. Don't tell us what to try, or what works for you. DO NOT touch us! Creepos!<br />
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I can see the humor behind my very tall, young, and skinny waiter calling me out on my healthy menu choices. He seemed very interested in nutrition, but he was being grossly inappropriate. I could tell he meant well, but he was lucky. I can imagine any other woman or some men trying to lose weight could be highly offended or embarrassed at being called out. I wouldn't berate him over his desire to help, it comes from good intentions. But one day, he is going to approach the wrong woman with his "story". If you want to give advice about weight loss, then go to school, get licensed, and allow people to come to you. Table side dietitian advice was not what I ordered for lunch.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-58833694921384385972014-09-23T22:23:00.001-05:002014-09-24T21:47:01.023-05:00It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, Damn It!The days seem a blur of work, eat, drive, cook, and sleep. Each time I open my eyes, I know for certain I'll be up for at least another 18 hours. Rinse and repeat with 1 day off a week for 2 week stretches, and you have one zombified woman. Amidst this lovely daily grind, I have an amazing amount of ideas and things to do for Halloween this year. With planning and 8 pages of lists, I will be adding myself and science as an attraction to our annual haunt. Normally, we let the garage become one big mad lab, but the witch in me wants to baffle and inspire the little ones with a few spells from Mr. Wizard himself. I have an extensive collection of spooky items that would make the Sanderson Sisters of "Hocus Pocus" proud. These past years we have herded families in and out of our garage in the hopes that they were scared by the devious genius I call my husband's work. While I make a rather fine assistant Igor, this time I want to inspire more than fear. We love science and science fiction in our home and I think the kids should get to see both sides. I plan on setting up my own work space, and making magic for my little pretties.(and sometimes their dogs too.)<br>
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The easy part of it all is putting the whole thing together. The hardest part is coming up with a rhyming spell for making snow, and figuring out the proper ratios of diet coke to mentos in an attempt at avoiding a sticky mess. Anyone know where I can buy bulk dry ice on Halloween? Besides these things, we need a small batch of minions to help us finish cleaning out our garage to make room. We have a back breaking amount of tile in the garage awaiting our upcoming bathroom makeovers, and they need to be shuffled away to darker, less in the way locals.<br>
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Soon enough I will be embarking on my 34th year. This garners no excitement for me other than the fun of a family gathering, with food and drinks. I didn't want a spectacular blow out, since I rarely have the energy for much more than a yawn. Low key is my party theme this year. Break out the barbeque and beers! I am looking forward to a relaxing time with the ones I love.<br>
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As per usual, I know this game all too well. First it's my birthday, and the next thing I know it's Christmas. The Gauntlet is back! I am not too sure how I will be able to balance the festivities and work all at once. I know I will find a way. It will probably be in the form of caffeine, but there is no slacking when it comes to merry making in my world. I have been booked for cake baking and Santa pit stops so far, and we aren't even to October. I am like the seasonal department of your your favorite store. Just as you are getting ready for Halloween, I am stocking the shelves with Christmas crap. It's the only way to keep up honestly.<br>
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While I have been driving between work and home, my 9 year old love has begun 4th stinkin' grade! My dear sweet Master Pigglesworth is growing up rapidly now. I am not saying he is maturing, so much as growing. Seriously, this kid is super tall. He's going to be giant. He has size full grown man feet at the tender age of 9. He's growing up so fast he's already referring to himself as 10! As per usual, he is my favorite source for a laugh. Of course like any other child, he tests his boundaries in a manner that would make Mr. Rogers himself curse. While we endure these typical growing pains, I still look at him and see my wrinkled old man baby. Then he runs off barefoot down the street screaming at his friend, and I shake that vision right off. PUT YOUR SHOES ON BARNEY RUBBLE!
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-37061348235459408012014-07-08T21:45:00.000-05:002014-07-08T21:45:11.997-05:00Ready, Set, Saute'<div class="yiv1747451720MsoNormal">
Whew! The fourth came and went with a
bang. I partied. There was food and drink had. It makes me want to hit
the rewind button and do it all over again. But since I can’t do that,
and because we are already on Tuesday, we must press forward
and make the best of it. Of course I am staring down the long barrel
of a six day work week, fresh off my three day weekend. As thankful as I
was for the time off, it’s harder to get back into the groove.
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Now we are getting into the hottest
months of the year, it is becoming increasingly important that I have a
pool to soak in. Thankfully, my parents have one in their back yard that
fits my bill. (free) I usually have to share that pool
with a crazy 9 year old boy, but we make due. This pretty much sums up
my entire calendar for the next few weeks. Amazingly, I do not have
plans. There are no parties to attend or assemble, no holidays to fret
and fuss over. July and most of August should
be quiet by comparison to the rest of the year. This immediately makes
me want to start a project. Free time = Project time. Since my office
still hasn’t been touched, I believe that is what I will be working on.
Of course I would like to be working on our
bathroom, but sadly, we are still storing a garage full of someone
else’s worldly belongings. We have no room to store our items or work on
anything. It doesn’t look like these items are going anywhere, anytime
soon on their own accord. I hate to take action,
but once again, we are left with no choice. </div>
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With the coming of some additional
down time, I want to make it my plan to get my kitchen back into a
healthier state. While I am proud of the additional veggies we have
added over the past few years, I can’t help but notice how far out
of the lean meats and whole grain pattern we have gotten. While I still
occasionally buy ground turkey, I have been buying hamburger because of
the cost difference. I have also been trying to use up all the boxes of
hamburger helper we seem to have, when I
know I can make my own, tastier and healthier ”helper” with just a
little more effort. So I plan on keeping the addition of the kale, sweet
potatoes and, zucchini to our table, be reintroducing lower fat
preparations.
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This reminds me that I haven’t cooked
anything for the pure enjoyment of it in a while. I cook to provide
sustenance more often than I cook for the pleasure. While providing
nourishment is the overall idea, I have a real love of creating
in the kitchen. Sometimes I get one off “franken-dishes” that I
couldn’t replicate even if I had a recipe. Other times I get meals that
satisfy, but don’t make me ring the proverbial bell. These average
dishes make me strive to make them into delicious victories.
This is how I fought the cheesecake monster and won. Same goes for the
bread beast. When something confounds me, I fight back until I win. I
need to go toe to toe with something scrumptious and come out flour
streaked and triumphant. I’m on a hunt for the
next contender. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-17315962103046908672014-06-22T19:55:00.000-05:002014-06-22T19:55:17.474-05:00You Put The Lime In The Coconut
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do
you ever get so caught up in a flavor trend that you worry yourself?
Lately my flavor of choice has been coconut. I blame it on coconut
flavored sparkling water. It really is refreshing. We started out
with that, and now I can't help but notice that most of the cold
beverages I am buying have a coconut flavor. For example, Central
Market brand has a kaffir lime and coconut Italian soda. This mixed
with premium white rum and ice makes an amazing refreshing drink.
It's simple and delicious. In fact, I am almost tempted to go back to
my nearby HEB and pick up more just in case they sell out by next
weekend. I plan on making this my summer drink of choice. </span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
am looking forward to the next couple of weekends. Next Saturday, I
am going on a day trip with my sister to pick up her two miniature
donkeys. Jax and Guinness are finally coming home, and I know my
sister couldn't be more excited. To make it even better, they will
also be welcoming their first longhorn calf named Big Tex, the
following day. As if my sister didn't already have her hands full,
she's now adding rancher to her many titles. If I know anyone who
could handle it, she would be the one. I actually feel sorry for
those poor animals. They will feel like life before my sister was
torture. She will spoil them rotten, like she does everyone else.
She's really good at that.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of
course America's independence day is coming up very soon. We love
holidays and like to make a big deal out of cooking and getting our
loved ones together. We decided on a hot dog bar, with a giant vat of
baked beans, and chips. This sounds about as perfect the apple pies
we will bust out before the fireworks show. We really don't need a
reason to make all this, but we like to have an excuse. I think my
nephew is slightly disappointed that there is no Uncle Sam and his
team of freedom eagles to bring all patriotic boys and girls presents
for being so American. He will have to console himself with some fun
outdoor activities. This is South Texas and I have no doubts that it
will be a hot mammer jammer. Water will be involved. </span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Even
with all this wonderful family time and events coming up, things
aren't all sunshine and roses. Stress has infiltrated my life in
abundance. As strong as I thought I was, I was sadly shown that even
I need help dealing with stuff. These past few months tested my
limits and introduced me to a highly impatient and rather irritable
side of myself. I didn't know how to stop it. Even with most of the
reason removed from my sight, the residual issues have created enough
of a mess for me to lose my cool. It is like someone came up to the
little pond that is my life, cannon-balled, splashing half the water
out, and left their trash around my shores. I'm in recovery mode and
my first instinct is anger and the second is more anger. </span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm
trying to reboot myself. Carrying this negativity around is heavy and
I know it's not good for me. I can't avoid dealing with my
disgruntled thoughts. It is easy to internalize your emotions for the
sake of someone else, but then it backfires. I feel like I was on the
verge of an epic explosion. I am glad that I didn't, because the
damage would have been vast. I would have regretted things I had
said, and damaged relationships beyond repair. This is not my goal.
No lesson would have been learned, nor any good would have come of
it. So I do what I always do when I have things to say, but no one
needs to hear. I write, and promptly erase it. Every time a word
document asks me if I want to save, I hover over the button just a
second before saying no. Life isn't always about kicking sand in your
enemy's eye. It's better to look them in the eye and know you can,
but you won't. </span></span>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-66772121256775852792014-06-11T22:43:00.000-05:002014-06-11T22:59:17.662-05:00Intolerance and Silver Linings Here we are in the middle of 2014. For the first 3 months of our
year, our life was getting into a new groove. At the end of January,
I started a long term assignment with a 2 hour daily commute and 10
hour shifts. I was working every other weekend, but now work 12 days
in a row and then have 2 weekends off. I start my day at 5am and get
home around 6:15pm. I’m generally tired, but manage it. Just as we
started picking up to full speed, we were asked to help out someone
that was in a bad place. We agreed to change our lives and home
around so the temporary fit into our world was as easy as possible.
It was soon apparent that we were from different universes, not just
planets. Combining them was about as smart as putting a hunting dog
in the same cage with a skunk. In the course of ten weeks, our
patience and charity was tested, abused, and eventually ran out. We
decided that we needed our home back, and made it so. The relief was
tainted by frustration and anger that it had to end the way it had,
but there was relief.<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="yui_3_16_0_1_1402537671629_3394"></a>Not only did this
verify the adage that no good deed goes unpunished, the entire
episode was exhausting. It's not completely over, as we are still
boarding animals and storing furniture. Soon, this will be over as
well. I have learned that I do not tolerate bullshit as well as I
used to. Once upon a time, I may have endured or been bullied into
giving more time, money and energy. That just isn’t the case any
longer. We work too hard for what we have, and I refuse to be
disrespected in my own home. I like helping others, but not to the
detriment of our happiness. I have no obligation to destroy my own
peace for unappreciative interlopers.
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There is a silver lining. It's now just the two of us living in
our home for the first time in several years. Our long term roommate
decided to move to avoid the drama we were enduring. I can finally
shower without worrying if my bedroom door is closed. My bra is
optional when I change into comfy clothes, and I have an office of my
own. My husband is able to lock the doors before bed without worrying
if someone will be coming home after we fall asleep. Our home is once
again a sanctuary, and if it's messy, it's our own fault. I can't
tell you how wonderful it is. There is quiet. I would say you can't
put a price on that, but the mortgage company says different.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-16754184617062594992014-01-26T11:31:00.001-06:002014-01-26T11:49:31.586-06:00Lazy SundayIts officially time for me to get back to work. Tomorrow I will begin an 8 month assignment working 6 days a week about an hour away from home. This should be interesting. I'm partially sad because I've been able to spend so much time with my sister and nephew. I won't be there to pick him up after school any longer. As bitter sweet as this unplanned hiatus has been, it's time to bring in some cash. I'm also looking forward to interacting with people outside my small circle again.<div><br></div><div>Today marks my fathers 60th year on the planet. 12 years ago, we were just hoping to keep him for a few more months. The initial cancer diagnosis was bleak. Our whole family was in a tailspin of disbelief, grief, and desperation. I would have sacrificed a baby goat on the third full moon of the year if it would have meant we got to keep him. Thankfully, voodoo wasn't needed. He went to MD Anderson in Houston. They saved his life and ours. His only sister donated bone marrow and he's now our father/aunt cellularly speaking. It doesn't get more redneck than that, and it's a beautiful thing. Last night we enjoyed a quiet party with our family and a few bottles of whiskey around a fire. For his gift we decided he was finally old enough to handle a tablet PC and so he's got his very own Kindle Fire. I hope he and mom both know that no matter how old and senile they get, we will always love them. Most people take for granted that their parents will always be there for them. We had a rude awakening. Every birthday is an achievement and special. I can only hope that my parents will be here for my 60th birthday.</div><div><br></div><div>Now I'm off to enjoy my Sunday. I have a plan that involves laundry, eating, and watching movies. I hope you all have a relaxing day too.</div><div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-62703512540803585922014-01-08T18:05:00.001-06:002014-01-08T20:53:27.492-06:00More Fun Than a Barrel of Monkeys, Less Stinky Too<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The tree and it's trimmings are stuffed away for another year. The kisses were kissed for the new year and we are officially out of the thick of it. Here at Casa De La Beebs we had a pretty awesome holiday blitz. The essential 3 F's were present and accounted for (family, friends, and food). I think all of us gained a few pounds. Blame it on my cbb's baby! (Cheesy bacon balls. Yum!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Now that 2014 is already burning up the calendar pages, I would like to note that I have passed my 3rd blogoversary! Yay for writing and such! My favorite part of writing is knowing that my readers can laugh with me. Life is funny. I find things to laugh at all the time, not excluding myself. Half the time I forget to write it down, but every once in a while, l'll remember something totally inappropriate I've done and I share it. Like having a pillow fight with my nephew in the Target check out lines, as if we were all alone. Also, letting him get the last hit in the busy parking lot. Even if it was the full face rearranging kind. I so wanted to retaliate, but I'm 33 and he is 8. Rest assured next time we hang out, I'm serving him a Diet Coke with Mentos ice. Sweet, sweet revenge will be mine!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In other news, I'm still off the ciggarettes!! I'm slowly converting the rest of the world with me. Not smoking is wonderful. The world is also a very stinky place. Sadly, my husband has had two chest colds since he quit smoking. He is threatening to start smoking again. I hope he doesn't! The occasional cravings are hard enough. The wierdest craving trigger yet has to have been watching some cartoon on Adult Swim. One of the characters had a smoke behind his ear, and suddenly my brain was awash with thoughts of ciggarettes. I puffed on my e-cig and reminded myself of how nasty they taste. I am retraining my brain after 19 years of smoking. It's not easy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In my typical tradition of not setting resolutions but goals, I have declared three things to be on my list:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1. To keep off the cigarettes! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">2. To remodel the bathroom. We needed a new shower like 2 years ago. 2 bondo patches later, and I'm sick of having to stand in the very cold back side of the tub. Shaving my legs is an Olympic sport! So over it!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">3. To be happy. Now, don't freak out y'all!! This does not mean I am unhappy! Because I am happy. But, I plan on blocking the bullshit from my boots. I know sometimes you can't avoid it. Some times the bullshit has a tendency to stick to your shoes and come in uninvited. Let me give a warning now: check your shoes at the door, and leave your mess behind. I don't want your stink around. Yee-haw.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-37207936715851635922013-12-20T02:06:00.001-06:002013-12-20T02:07:15.775-06:00Christmas Eve Will Find Me. I Know It Will.The stocking is hung by the plasma with care, in hopes that St. Beebs soon would be there. In less than a week we will celebrating the most anticipated, stressful, and fattening holiday of the year. Get out the sparkly stretchy pants and the tums! We of course will be observing with the traditional Christmas Eve party at Pops and Geeg's house. This year the old homestead is filled and covered with enough decorations to make Clark Griswold happy. They really went all out this year. We suspect our know-it-all 8 year old is about to bust out of the Santa's real mentality. Therefore, we are making a spectacle this year. It's bittersweet to see it all come and go so quickly. Soon, we will be telling Hayden to put down his i pad and listen to us. Oh wait. We already do! <br />
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So, I can officially say, that tomorrow will be the month mark for not smoking cigarettes! Vaping is working for me where traditional methods have not. Eventually, I will stop this too. The ultimate goal is to get off the nicotine entirely. I rather enjoy my new non-stinky status.<br />
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In entertainment news, Facebook has been rather fun lately. Controversy, family intrigue, and cute animals and children are always present. But this time of year seems to bring special qualities out of the posts. The pets and children are cuter, and the drama is thicker. It's like reading little soap opera synopses. I think we should all agree that we should not be the writers of drama, just readers. It's much more fun this way.<br />
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I hope you have a Merry Christmas or Festivus, as it may be in your home. Post the pictures. Drink the 'nog. Wash your hands! (That's from my sister. She's the patron saint of hand washing and sanitizer.)<br />
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PS. No, really. Go wash your hands. Get under those fingernails. Eww. <br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-68273582201367699782013-12-09T08:51:00.001-06:002013-12-09T08:51:58.583-06:00Who's The Sexy Pirate With The Eye Patch?I'm working on week three of not smoking. It's a wonderful thing! It's a personal best on the non smoking front. My sense of smell is coming back, and it's a bit disturbing. I smell things that I never noticed before. The Parmesan cheese case at the store is overwhelming. Other smokers reek. Why do I only notice the stinky smells? My taste buds haven't changed much, but I'm good with that. I haven't had the overwhelming need to eat my weight in chocolate either. I'm not going to lie and say that I haven't thought about sneaking a smoke. Just one. But I tell my brain to shut up, and take a few puffs off the vaporizer. It works. I'm happy!<div><br></div><div>This week will be wildly busy. We have Santa's annual visit on Thursday via fire truck. Since our houses are the halfway point, my neighbor usually feeds Santa and their helpers hot dogs, cocoa, and other snacks. I always help, because our neighbors are wonderful people. But this year, they are having technical difficulties with their garage. So we offered our garage for the event. This means we have to get the garage cleaned of all the dead bodies and mysterious liquids still lingering from Halloween. Santa doesn't want to see our autopsy victim. Or maybe he does? I don't know how he feels about unidentfied glowing substances. </div><div><br></div><div>Friday we will be taking a trip to the Texas Hill Country to be a part of my husband's cousin's wedding. This affords me the opportunity of seeing my husband in a tux. Yay! Not so fun, I have to wear pantyhose and I think I may have a sty growing on my eyelid. It's puffy, red and sore. Why? Because it's Murphy's law! You have a big week with a lot of public interaction? Here is a gross infection that makes your eye look hideous! Thank you Murphy. Life without you would be predictable and less awkward. Whatever. I'll get an eyepatch. It will make me look mysterious. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-73723635172715027992013-11-27T12:42:00.001-06:002013-11-27T12:42:08.315-06:00Sailing The Smoke Free Seas<div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">It's turkey time! The food holiday of the year is upon us and I am looking forward to traveling to the family deer lease to have a Griswold Family Thanksgiving. What says "giving thanks" better than ripping down the trails on a four wheeler? Not much in my opinion. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Things have been extra busy around the house what with all the globe trotting and holiday ruckus. This month was busy. The cruise happened. </font><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Fun, sun, and drinks were had. I had some amazing experiences on the long strange trip to Mexico and back. I do not regret going, nor would I do it again. While three of the five days were excellent, the two spent at sea were awful. The ride home was like riding a rollercoaster you couldn't get off. 22 foot swells and 40 mile an hour winds made for an interesting last day. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">To all that said you can't feel the motion of the ocean on the giant floating hotels, ha! It didn't physically bother me. In fact, the extreme rocking of the boat was the equivalent of being rocked to sleep. I seriously had trouble staying awake that day. Many people on the boat had trouble keeping thier buffet food where they put it. This was not excluding staff that had been out to sea For 10 out of 12 months. But the shuddering crashes that reverberated throughout the breathtakingly large hull of the boat with alarming frequency was enough to keep you on edge. </span></div><div><div><br></div><div>All of that aside, the beach. Oh my. Would I go back to Cozumel again? Absolutely!!! Just not on a boat. I went snorkeling. I drove the boat that took us snorkeling. I saw a barracuda. It was mean looking. Starfish and the magic conch. I saw those. Screw the aquarium, go see the real thing. I got exactly what I was expecting in Cozumel, which was a great time. The drinks were cold, and the food was excellent. The beach was perfect. My only regret was that we didn't spend both days there.<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Progreso was a border town feel with a beach view. Very poor, beggars, overly aggressive curio hawkers, and tequila. We shopped till we dropped into a cantina on the beach and rushed back to the boat in the rain. </span></div><div><div><br></div><div>All in all, we had a great time. We drank and ate our fill. We danced, sang, and met interesting people. We saw broadway style shows, a comedy act, a magic show and even a burlesque show. We were entertained. I have to say, I have some great memories to look back on. But I wouldn't try it again. Once was enough. </div></div></div><div><br></div><div>In other news, it's been a week since I quit smoking. Actually, I have to say it's not only myself that quit. If you aren't sitting down, you may want to. Yes, the master of the Beebs universe has also quit smoking. While you absorb this news, I'll tell you how it was possible. There is this not so new trend called vaping. These magical machines use water vapor to mimic smoking and deliver pure medical grade nicotine. The act of taking a draw off my machine is as physically and mentally satisfying as smoking a cigarette. The even better side of it is the smell. It's missing the disgusting ashtray fumes. I don't stink, nor does the garage any longer. I can vape indoors. No more braving the cold or the heat to get a fix of nicotine. No more inhaling 3,000 plus cancer causing chemicals with each drag. I don't feel like I'm deprived by going cold turkey. I don't have to fill the void with food either. </div><div><br></div><div>I think this is going to be it for us. I never believed we would both quit smoking and not risk our marriage. Two grumpy people withdrawing from a more than 20 year addiction doesn't make a happy home. We are both happy with the machines and our new smoke free lives. It's amazing how gross an ashtray smells now. It shocked me that even after only three days after quitting smoking how cigarettes and thier leavings turned me off. I'm pleased by the changes. I am more pleased that my newly 40 year old husband who smoked a pack and a half to two packs a day is sticking with me in this. </div><div><br></div><div>So with all this, we are being dragged into December before we are ready. The last month of 2013 will be busy as well. Our 8th wedding anniversary, a wedding, parties and of course the holiday of all holidays. Have fun and don't forget your stretchy pants. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-54362160859418633702013-11-06T14:08:00.000-06:002013-11-06T14:08:37.174-06:00Caution: Contents May Cause Shiny Hair and Death<span style="font-family: inherit;">All my bags are almost packed and I'm ready to go... I'm going to be standing here outside my sister's door. Cause I'm leaaaaaving on a cruise ship don't think I'll wanna come back again... In only 2 short days we will be headed to Galveston, Tx to board the infamous "poop cruise" ship. Our stops are in Progreso and Cozumel respectively. After all of the planning, prepping and meetings it's finally almost time to go. I am not nervous about the ship one bit. But just in case, I'm bringing wipes and a friend is bringing a suitcase of depends for all of us. 10 women in 5 cabins could get stinky. As the last few days count down, I'm increasingly more excited. The one thing I want to experience is as cliche as it comes. Blue waters and white sand. I want palm trees, I want a cabana boy, and I want cocktails. Thankfully I heard about a private beach with all of the above. If the reviews find my expectations live up to the hype, you may never see me stateside again. Forward all mail to My Personal Paradise care of: Sailor Jerry. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I find my biggest issue with the whole vacation is packing. I am doubting even my own tight packing list. I researched this subject to death. Dresses, check. Comfy shoes, check. Electrical strip outlet and exstension cord, check. My issue doesn't even extend to clothes. It seems my cosmetics are the issue. They are requiring an entire suitcase of their own. Not that it's all makeup. I plan on wearing little to none. But it's the sunblock, aloe, meds, and other sundries that are rapidly filling up my luggage. I think I have an addiction to health and beauty products. Honestly, I can see instances where I will need every item in my medicine cabinet. Some worry about over packing clothing and I'm worried about looking like a walking Walgreens. Antacid, pepto, Advil, anti itch creme, visine, swimmers ear, first aid kit, and many other various items I suddenly realize I shouldn't go wandering away from home without. The people scanning my bag are going to think I'm a hypochondriac. Even with my doubts, I'm not willing to leave these items behind. I'd rather be safe than sorry. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We still have a few things to do before we shove off. Important things like getting fresh pedicures with nautical themes. You know, important things. I recently purchased an esalon personalized hair color kit. It's kinda cool. You order what you want after filling out a survey and they send it to you. In my case, a personal "hair color expert" gave me a call and asked me a few further questions. She didn't know that I have been a bottle red head since 1996. She had no idea that I know the shades of red I prefer. I'm no noob. But she convinced me that with my skin tone and natural hair color I shouldn't go for the "watch out I'm a hot redhead" color I normally go for. She suggested a tamer red, but still very red she insisted. She tried to explain about the developer levels and such. I wanted to say "B*tch, I know all this!" But I refrained. So three days after I ordered my custom coloring package arrived. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now, honestly, this package was awesome. It had all the bells and whistles. Nice gloves, coconut oil stain preventer for around the hairline, stain removing towelette, and shampoo and a conditioner to boot. The whole package was impressive and well put together. With the utmost confidence, I drew and quartered my hair and began coloring my new growth. After waiting ten minutes for that to develop, I colored the remainder of my hair. I was a bit worried that it wasn't red enough at this point. But I stuck with it till the end. Even when they told me to mix equal parts water with the remainder of the second bottle for an extra glossy step, I kept the faith. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">After 15 more minutes, I took the watered down bottle in the shower with me, and applied it as suggested. This is where it I nearly die in my shower thanks to hair color fumes. Nope, not kidding. It says to apply the watered down mix and lather like a shampoo for up to two minutes. Except it doesn't tell you this is a race for your life, and death awaits you with your now *super* shiny hair. My god! The fumes! My throat and eyes burned worse than living next door to a delish hot sauce factory. it took several moments after I was rinsed out to get a good clean breath in. If the choices are super shiny hair or death by chemical inhalation, I choose cake. In the end, the color wasn't as red as I prefer, but it is alright. To be perfectly honest, was it worth $10? Yes, was it worth $20? No. But I have to say, my hair is pretty darn shiny!</span> </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-87523768356335556132013-11-01T15:28:00.000-05:002013-11-01T15:28:10.156-05:00The Sweet and Sour of Halloween The goblins and ghouls have put away their candy bags for another year. Last night we started out with 150 pre packaged "goodie bags" and within the first hour they were gone. We had to limit everyone to one piece because we had a LINE DOWN OUR DRIVEWAY TO GET INTO OUR LAB! That was possibly the biggest crowd we have ever had. We saw family members, friends, and loads of familiar faces come by and check out what the Mad Lab was cooking this year. We had a blast. I even convinced a few too scared kiddos to come in and see our collection, and I think they will be repeat customers. One thing that I thankfully didn't find too often, but often enough that made me want to smack a parent or two were the grabby kids. The ones that walked right up to the huge caldron of candy in my lap and decided to help themselves with fistfuls of candy. I am not shy. The first little kid that walked up to me and did that barely drew back all of his fingers. His father stood there and said not a word of admonishment to his child. I wanted to tell him what I really thought of him, but instead I handed the kid a lime flavored tootsie roll and told him to move on. While I should have given him nothing, I am soft hearted. But I made sure to give him the worst candy in my bucket. No snickers or m&m's for that little turd or his idiot parent. Teach your kids manners and to be polite. They will go further in life. Or at least not be considered pimples on society's butt. <br />
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Also, to the one fella that complained about us not having more Umbrella Corp stuff, you are more than welcome to do your own haunt. I'll even give you a few tips! Have some disposable income, do a lot of research, and spend hours upon hours putting something together for people to enjoy. Don't worry there will be a few complainers that come by and tell you that despite all of your hard work it was missing something. Don't take it personal my little pimple, it's all par for the course. <br />
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With Halloween done with now it's time to pack up our props, pour our mysteriously glowing potions out and break out the suitcase. I have my packing list and a suitcase. Nothing has yet to make it from the closet to the suitcase. Also, I need things like shampoos, razors, and other travel sized delights. We are on a mission for clip on fans this weekend. I myself cannot live without the noise or breeze of the fan. I am incredibly hot natured. There will be very little sleeping and much cranky going on if I do not have a fan. We also get to take some drinks and water on board with us. So that means I am going to buy at least 6 bottles of Vitamin Water's "revive". These are hangover lifesavers and I do plan on having some hang overs.<br />
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To add to all the excitement, tomorrow is Hayden's final football game of the season! No one can be more excited than my sister, who has taken him to three practices a week plus games, on top of school, and tutoring... That woman needs a vacation more than I do. She won't have to dress anyone or feed anyone other than herself. I think she might go buck wild. I am going to have to keep an eye on that one... <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-15304220319012728532013-10-23T13:59:00.001-05:002013-10-23T13:59:56.256-05:00The Gauntlet: Attack of the Killer Calendar <span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s almost time for The 2013 Karg Haunt. It feels more like an afterthought for us this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually, the entire set up is completed and looking quite gruesome by now. We haven’t even brought out our props. Gus is still in the attic. We have had our attentions on other things. Like Hayden’s football games for me. Of course I had planned on getting things done last Sunday, but as if on cue, I spent the entire day ill thanks to the stomach flu. Just today I am feeling much better. But I will get something done because I don’t want to disappoint everyone who looks forward to it. That list gets longer every year. There will be a haunt and it will be good. No worries! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On top of that, the cruise to Mexico is coming up very quickly. In a little more than three weeks in fact, we will be relaxing on a ship on our way to the Western Caribbean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won’t be packing until the weekend before, but I need a list so I don’t forget anything. I am extremely excited for this trip. I am going someplace I have never been before with a great group of women and my partner in crime sister. We have been warned by my husband that we will most likely be made to ride the dingy of shame on the way back for bad behavior, but that’s a risk we are willing to take. I’m already plotting songs to sing for karaoke and which bars I want to drink from first. Food? Oh yea, I suppose there will be some eating happening, you know to “maintain”. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As we move further in our year and leave the booze cruise behind, our social calendar is filling up fast. Soon, my best friend will be getting married and I will be crowned Fairy Godmother to her son. Well at least I hope there is a crown involved. I have to buy the little one his super pimping little outfit for the occasion too. He’s already a lady killer. My god, that kid had more women on him at last weekend’s football game than a stray has fleas. We are also going to have a 40<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> birthday party at a shooting range for my husband. December will have a whole weekend devoted to a dear cousin’s wedding. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, let’s not forget Thanksgiving and Christmas too. Whew. The Gauntlet is busier this year than ever. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, with all that in mind, I find myself already tired. It’s a good thing that Football is almost over, because there would be some seriously disappointed people if I didn’t show up to functions because Master P has a game. I committed to him that I wouldn’t miss a single game if I could help it. It is important to him that we be there. He hears our cheers for him and he needs them. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won’t say it hasn’t been a rough season. In fact last weekend’s game was the only game they have won. Before that, it was shut out after shut out. Now there are only a couple of games left and I am proud to say from the first teary eyed loss to the hard won victory, I was there. It’s the least I can do, after all he is my source of endless entertainment and joy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-12888624051566381162013-09-18T13:22:00.001-05:002013-09-18T13:22:06.888-05:00The Transformation of "P"<div class="WordSection1"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; "><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">So as I sit at my desk, eating my lunch, being eaten by flipping mosquitoes, I am thinking about how in 51 days, my sister and I will be off on an adventure with a group of lovely ladies. So far, I have applied for my passport and received a new cruise wardrobe courtesy of my parents. It’s only a 5 day cruise. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. But it is to me. Not only is it the first vacation I am taking with my sister since the epic disaster that was our weekend in Fredericksburg, it’s the first vacation I will be out of the great state of Texas since my Trip to Florida in 2002. I have done plenty of weekend trips and a handful of long weekend trips since then. So this trip is a big deal for me. I am ready to go!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; "><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; "><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In only 19 days I will be turning 33. This is no milestone. I am neither excited or discouraged. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE birthdays. I love the parties with my family. I am changing it up this year, and I will be skipping my Halloween party. As much as I love to put it together, I won’t have time to do it all this year. So I will be putting together a scene in the garage this year for the kids, but otherwise the usual Halloween shenanigans will be low key. There is a very good chance that next year’s plans will make up for the slack of this year, but those blueprints are in development and are very hush, hush for now.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; "><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; "><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Until then I also have Mr. Pigglesworth’s football and hunting season to keep me occupied. It’s amazing how ambivalent towards sports I was up until Piggy’s first game. Now I’m cheering and whooping and hollering for touch downs and blocks! I yelled at the field for one little kid to “take down” the other little kid. At least I am not alone. We have a whole family of support standing there yelling and jumping up and down. Maybe not jumping up and down, cause we are all old and broken, but you know what I mean. Woe be me if I call Piggy anything but “P” on the field. So behind closed doors, he is “Piggy” and “Master Pigglesworth” but on the field his is just “P”. No embarrassing nicknames allowed. I can respect that, or at least try my best. It’s so funny how absolutely serious he is on the field. He passed by us while lined up with his team and I swear he didn’t even crack a smile at us. He was very focused. I can’t help but be proud of that. Of course the second we get back to Pops and Gigi’s for swimming, he is back to his silly old self. He’s growing up just fine.</span></p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-7235891288697860332013-06-17T16:28:00.001-05:002013-06-17T16:28:37.108-05:00Did Ya Miss Me?<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been 49 days since my last post. I have been mega ultra
busy in those 49 days, and they haven’t all been used on playing Candy Crush or
waiting for lives in Candy Crush. First of all, I had a nephew born, then one graduated,
then another turned 8 this weekend. Holy cow my nephews have been draining the
bank accounts and our time. But that’s perfectly fine with me. Once our beloved
nephew Alex comes down to live nearby, we will have one more to have fun with! Not
only have I been busy with parties, births, and other related sundries, I have
been working on a book. Yes, with chapters and pages. It was one of my biggest
goals this year. Good, bad, or ugly, I’m filling up the pages with text. So in
summary, I have let my blog become a back burner item. I didn't stop enjoying
writing here, I just had my time swallowed up by so many other things. <o:p></o:p></div>
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On May 28<sup>th</sup>, Brock was born ridiculously good
looking and perfect in health. I was lucky enough to be one of the few
witnessing his first moments out of his mommy. They scrubbed him down, they poked,
prodded, and otherwise roughed up the poor little guy in the nursery, and he
cried maybe twice. He does pouty lips all too well already, and I can see where
his mom will not have the power to say no, ever. One spoiled rotten child,
coming up! But it’s okay. As long as you teach the child to appreciate all the
wonderful things he has, and that people do for him, he will be spoiled, but
not a spoiled brat. I look forward to seeing him grow up. Speaking of growing
up, my own Mr. Pigglesworth is officially a 3<sup>rd</sup> grader, 8 years old,
and enrolled in football! I couldn't be prouder. It’s all happening so fast. The
next thing I know I am sitting at a graduation for the 10 year old boy that
wanted his father to get married so he could finally get a dog. Oh, that was
Devin, who somehow found the fast forward button. 8 years later, he is getting
ready for college, and hopefully sticking with it. His dad did get married, to
my sister, and first came Pigglesworth, and next came the dog. Who incidentally,
is going in for surgery today.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yes, my dog nephew Shiner is headed to San Antonio today to repair
his broken leg after he tried to stop a car’s tire with aggressive growling and
snapping. Lucky for him, the car was moving very slowly, unlucky for him, he
has a cracked pelvis and a broken back leg. Hopefully, he will be back to
normal soon. He’s feeling awfully sorry for himself thanks to his temporary
cast, and being unable to operate as he did before. It’s a rough life, eh Maga?
I feel even more sorry for my sister and brother in law who have to endure all
of this because Shiner hates tires. Prejudice and hate get you nowhere and nothing
but more pain! He needs tire tolerance classes. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Last week, I found a good
home for my two dogs, and they are now living with a family of 6 who couldn't
wait to lavish love and attention on them. As sad as it was for me, I knew it
was best. Having dogs in my house just wasn't meant to be. The Hellions are in
a better home, and I am happy for them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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New beginnings and bittersweet endings seem to be the
pattern in my life this year. My plan for right
now is to carry on with my writing, and spending time with my family,
and living my life. By the time this year is done, I may be singing a different
tune, but you can rest assured I will be singing something. <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-40834271414469157882013-04-29T13:51:00.001-05:002013-04-29T22:00:33.523-05:00Parenting 101: You Are Doing It WrongDid you know that if you want to learn to take care of children you should learn to take care of your boss? I recently found out I have been walking around with the wrong ideas in my head for years! I am so ashamed. If I hadn't been shown the error of my ways, there is no telling how my future children would have been raised. I feel like I should be writing this knowledge down. Therefore, I've made a list of what should be the hottest new child rearing preparation lessons. This is 100% free folks! You are welcome. <br />
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1. The boss/child wants everything they ask for ten minutes ago. Regardless of how pointless, or important the demand is, your job as a parent/employee is to cater to their every command. No matter if it's cookies before dinner, or finding out why the mailman was late bringing the mail today. Just do it, now. <br />
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2. Your boss/child is to be coddled and soothed during raging temper tantrums. Rush around and do everything you possibly can to make them happy. It doesn't matter what started it or how irrational the behavior is. Do not try reasoning or defending yourself, that's not your place. <br />
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3. Your boss/child is the only person you should pay attention to. Ever. You should train your ears to only listen to and for the sound of their voice. Sonic hearing aids could help in this. Do what you must, but never be caught not listening to or hanging on their every word. If at any point you are perceived as not paying attention, but you really are listening, you are still not paying attention. <br />
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4. Your boss/child tells you what to do, how to do it, and how long it should take. If you didn't do it right the first time, you weren't listening to a thing they said. If you think weren't told to do something or how to do it, you are wrong. They surely told you, you just weren't listening. <br />
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5. Don't be afraid to ask questions. Your boss/child has an open door policy. Just don't expect the response you get to be without eye rolling or a visible show of aggravation because they must take the time to explain. This relates to rule 4 especially. <br />
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6. Your child/boss doesn't make special time for you every day. Don't interrupt play time or quiet time for your questions or issues. If you do happen to interrupt them, you deserve the reprimand/ lecture that will inevitably follow. <br />
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7. If you should need to take care of something that doesn't revolve around your boss/child be prepared to take a guilt trip. This is almost always followed by a closed door dissertation on the importance of your loyalty to your boss/child. You must be reminded of who you work for and or take care of. <br />
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8. If someone should ask you a question in front of your child/boss, make sure to direct all questions to them. You haven't been doing this long enough to answer questions. Refer to rules 4 and 5.<br />
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9. Being friends with another employee/parent from a different department/play group is not prohibited, but strongly cautioned against. If you should choose to have a friendship with another employee/parent, a warning will be issued in a closed door dissertation on the importance of your loyalty to your boss/child. <br />
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10. Part of your job as an employee/parent is to take accountability for things not in your control or responsibility. If someone needs to be blamed quickly for issues or the diffusion of a situation, it will be you. Take the blame like a champ and never refuse to shoulder the blame. You took this job as an employee/parent. You signed the scapegoat forms when you signed the application/birth certificate/ adoption papers. If you didn't read that part, that's your fault too. You weren't paying attention.<br />
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Of course this list is complete b.s. for those who can't tell I'm being sarcastic. I really was told that I should be able to take care of my boss if I want to be able to properly take care of children. No lie. I didn't say anything to the person who told me this. I just walked away. I find I express my anger and outrage at one of the most ridiculous pieces of advice I've ever heard best in sarcasm. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-10664386837193410402013-04-25T15:14:00.001-05:002013-04-25T15:14:32.958-05:00Another Window Catastrophe, Lucky Me. It's been a while. I feel like I have abandoned my favorite toy. But I have been super extra incredibly busy, and while I have started many posts, I have yet to sit down and finish one. But this one is different. This one will be published. It's time for my world to slow down once again. This weekend I only have cleaning to worry about. My grand cleaning plan includes vacuuming every surface, and spraying it down with a fine layer of bleach. The baby shower is officially over and done with, and it was wonderful. Now it's time to sit back and wait for the baby to arrive. This time next week, my sister is leaving for New Zealand with her husband, so that means my Piggy nephew will be in need of entertainment while he is staying with my parents. I am thinking of going to the movies, and other fun sundries we can get ourselves into. <div>
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In other news, I am no longer a temporary employee. After four months, and a few days, I will officially be an employee of my company. I have mixed feelings about it. I know that the salary they will be offering me won't even be close to the salary that I am used to getting, and no where near what my position's salary should be. I have interviewed for another job and the price was right, but the feeling from the office was not. I certainly don't feel like jumping from the pan into the fire with yet another crazy boss, and a big question mark over the permanence of my position. Instinct has told me quite a bit over the years, and surprisingly, I have often been correct. So I am still looking for the job that has it all, brains, looks, and money. </div>
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Don't get me wrong, the people in my office are mostly kind, and they appreciate my work. But I haven't made this little in pay since I was fresh in the insurance business. I was desperate to keep a pay check when I found this place, and I do not regret my decision. But the stress of this position and the lacking in pay make it easy to say thanks, but no thanks. I still feel some odd sense of loyalty, but it isn't enough to entertain other job offers. I am grateful for the opportunity, but it's not a good match. I still dread the moment I have to tell them that I am leaving. I'm such a sucker. </div>
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I have confirmed my bad luck with windows in my toaster. First the automatic window motors died one after the other, and now my rear passenger window was shattered by a rock while I was driving home last week. it scared the ba-jesus out of me! It sounded like a gunshot, and a constant stream of profanity was coming out of my mouth. It's a shock I didn't wreck. I was extremely happy I didn't have passengers at the time. They would have been covered in glass. I finally had the window replaced today. I don't carry anything expensive, but the thought that all someone had to do was push through the cardboard window or lift some tape to violate my personal belongings isn't nice. I mean, I already live with one man who violates my personal space, and he's my husband. That's good enough for me! </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-81910518440216884012013-03-21T16:33:00.000-05:002013-03-21T16:33:04.539-05:00I'm Going Out With My Boots On<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not sure if there is a logical reason for my brain to be
craving Taco Bell, but that isn't stopping it. I am typically anti-fake Mexican
food. We have our choice of good Mexican food in our area. It’s on every street
corner. We are like Seattle, but instead of Starbucks, it’s Taqueria
Whathaveyou. Even this is not preventing my moral turpitude. Doritos tacos… get
in my belly! I haven’t given in to this craving, but I’m slowly wearing myself
down. Let’s hope the craving passes. My brain is fickle. I could be craving
sweet potato waffle fries with a whisper light drizzle of honey by tomorrow. One
thing is for sure, there is a box of brownies in my pantry that will be in my
oven tonight. COME TO MAMA!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sudden food cravings aside, we are finally on the tail end
of this week. I didn't think Tuesday or Wednesday would ever end. I am utterly
tired and worn out mentally from the grueling tasks shoved before me this week.
Next week is already end of the month and I have invoices and reports to do. I
think I would rather shave my legs with a rusty razor. But it must be done. I
barely have enough time to do my weekly stuff, and someone wants to add even
more demanding monthly tasks? It’s any wonder I don’t crack and start shouting obscenities
and throwing things at people who crowd around me asking me for something. I
take care of grown men and their business like I am a nanny for adults. My only
problem is I am getting paid much less than a nanny. It will be a serious issue
if when my 720 hours has been met and they think they are keeping me on the
same salary. I took this job in desperation, just happy to have a job. Now I
have been here, and worked my tuckus off. I know what I should be making and I
also know what is reasonable. We are currently nowhere near either option. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
This weekend is so close I can practically reach out and
touch it. I just need to get a little closer. I need to get all of my gear
washed and ready to pack up for our adventure to the home lease this weekend.
It’s sure to be a hootenanny. You wouldn't think only being an hour and a half
away from home would be so relaxing or fun. But it is when we all get together.
Of course it will be at least 90 degrees outside, so summer will be slapping
our faces all day, until another cool front blows through, typical. It won’t
matter much when I am playing on the 4 wheeler and eating barbecue. Yee-haw! </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-9906510512369223702013-03-10T21:53:00.000-05:002013-03-10T21:53:18.092-05:00Color Me BlindMy blog writing time is usually during the week at lunch. But thanks to a heavy workload, I've been working through lunch. So last weeks blog slipped through my fingers, and I find myself utterly busy and too lazy on the weekends to sit down at my computer. Right now I have both time and motivation, and as I sit here typing, I realized I am smudging my freshly painted finger nails. I obviously have bad timing! It's not that big of a loss. I wanted a "Tiffany teal", but now that it's on my nails it looks more like "mental institution green". I'm glad I only paid $.97 for it. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLWTmp-N-u8GkABRpzwMmIOabBLVqPCskfYNwdcZU-6jfWwks25eoX8hgcNnlJWfrfa5CkjZMrKlrbH2_NBN0BRRI-TkdxxypwfF_rSf57_tUhmWeAjy6HsGY4Q6w4Fc5JejbFSYzRpe1/s1600/nails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLWTmp-N-u8GkABRpzwMmIOabBLVqPCskfYNwdcZU-6jfWwks25eoX8hgcNnlJWfrfa5CkjZMrKlrbH2_NBN0BRRI-TkdxxypwfF_rSf57_tUhmWeAjy6HsGY4Q6w4Fc5JejbFSYzRpe1/s400/nails.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ick! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I am still getting geared up for the baby shower, and have even learned to loom knit for the sole purpose of making my newest nephew some snuggly and cute hats and booties. Within a few hours last weekend, I had knitted a scarf, a hat and two sets of booties. I was very proud of them. I couldn't even wait to show my bestie the items. Of course, something had to spoil the accomplishment, and I have no one to blame but myself. Last week as I was leaving the house in a hurry, I put The Hellions in their crate, but didn't latch it fully. When I got home, there was mass destruction! One of my nice and broken in boot tops was chewed up, various items from all over the house were pulled out and chewed on, including my hat and booties set. I only found one bootie, and one hat. I still have no clue where that second bootie is. I am almost afraid to look too closely in the back yard. I'm scared I will find hints on yellow and blue in the grass. Thankfully the booties only take about an hour to knit. It's the principal of the matter! <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFKKvGfUtmDYgVFRjLZ3q3sloQ0e23HPE2UCbpO7DZuq6JRSGAwA5oC5bvLx9zIZSAq8e-zo_ghnpygfJxKXRP7ZgB_6T2RPOJGGcIt7YPeOhFmZITLg0ph7YC_tW2HXGyk6blNoVlBrFN/s1600/hat+and+bootie.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFKKvGfUtmDYgVFRjLZ3q3sloQ0e23HPE2UCbpO7DZuq6JRSGAwA5oC5bvLx9zIZSAq8e-zo_ghnpygfJxKXRP7ZgB_6T2RPOJGGcIt7YPeOhFmZITLg0ph7YC_tW2HXGyk6blNoVlBrFN/s400/hat+and+bootie.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All that is left of my matching set! :-(</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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On top of the baby shower and Easter to-do's, I have my mind set on sewing a few broom skirts for the coming hotter weather. I have a real love for light and breezy long skirts that can be dressed up or down according to my destination. On the weekends I can pair them with a t-shirt and flip flops and be done with it. But they can be just as pretty with a blouse for the office. All I really need is some fabric, thread, and a pattern. My real issue is with settling on a fabric. This could be tricky, especially with my love of bright bold colors. I obviously have a hard enough time picking out a good nail polish. I'm not sure if I can be trusted not to buy something too outlandish. I need a color intervention! <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-8760006528044043752013-02-19T15:17:00.001-06:002013-02-19T15:17:25.656-06:00The White Chocolate DevilI can’t say for certain if I am losing weight because of my trips to the gym. Getting on a scale doesn’t happen very often. I do know that yesterday, my work pants were in severe danger of falling off entirely. I am obviously losing inches. Even after one week of not going to work out, the inches lost have been maintained. That’s pretty good for me. Especially since I ate a very small variety of healthy things this past weekend. Pork ribs, sausage, and cake made with no less than 5 sticks of butter was on the menu. My sister’s birthday party was less of a party and more of an eating frenzy. My brother in law made some of the best barbeque I have ever had the pleasure of chewing with the few teeth I have left. I am still craving the perfectly tender and juicy flavor of the smoked chicken halves he served sans sauce. We don’t need no stinking sauce.<br />
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I followed up the barbeque of the century with an exotic cake for my sister to make her yearly wish on. Four french vanilla cake layers were alternately spread with intense chocolate ganache, and a homemade raspberry curd. The entire monstrosity was frosted with white chocolate butter cream frosting, and then coated with white chocolate shavings and studded with fresh raspberries. The layers themselves were not remarkable. The chocolate ganache was too bitter and needed to be sweeter. The raspberry curd, nor the cake lent the chocolate any sweetness at all. On the other hand, the white chocolate frosting was entirely too sweet. But once the four elements combined, there was blissful blending of all flavors that made a truly outstanding dessert. I did not make this recipe up on my own. You can find and follow the exact same recipe I used here at: http://www.evilshenanigans.com/2010/04/raspberry-and-chocolate-ganache-cake-with-white-chocolate-buttercream/ . The truly evil thing about this cake was how yummy it was. I almost want to make this cake again this weekend. I know I shouldn’t. I don’t need the temptation or the fat and calories. But I am compelled to make this again, if only to prove to myself that it was as delicious as I thought it was, and I wasn’t making it all up in my head. Yea, that’s the ticket!<br />
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This weekend I will be hard at work finishing the invitations for the upcoming baby shower. As soon as the baby shower is over, and the baby is here, we will be focusing on the next big event on the horizon, which will be my hetero life mate’s marriage to her very long time boyfriend. She has grand ideas and we have much planning to do. To say that I am excited for her is an understatement. This is tantamount to all of her dreams coming true. There is no reason in the world for the excitement not to be high! There are very few in this world that I could wish so much happiness for. She deserves her happily ever after, and I can’t wait to be there every step of the way. I’ve got my boxes of tissues already on order, because I know in the next year or so, there will be many happy tears shed. I don’t mind shedding tears for her she is so totally worth my tears.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-71121231472851831672013-02-15T13:33:00.001-06:002013-02-15T13:33:08.624-06:00Reach Fer The Sky!Yesterday, while couples across the world were snuggling and sharing boxes of chocolate for the romantic holiday of the year, I was at the dentist having my tooth pulled. Bad timing? Yes. Am i relieved the pain is gone? Absolutely. While I was at home recovering, I made a lovely steak dinner for my husband, that I couldn’t eat. But I did get to eat the side dishes I made. I made a brownie/cake and enjoyed a small portion of that, so I could say I had some chocolate. <br />
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The snuggling part didn’t happen because my brother in law came over to visit, and by the time my husband crawled into bed, I was passed out. It was the least romantic and memorable Valentine’s Day in the history of ever. I did at least try to make it special for my husband. The steak, the chocolate, doing his laundry, and the silly/sappy card were all tokens of love and shows of appreciation. I know we shouldn’t just use one day to show how much we love someone, but I choose to hold it as a special day.<br />
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Just as we should be celebrating being alive every day, we lavish extra attention on each other during our birthdays. St Patrick’s day we kiss Irish people and get drunk, and Thanksgiving we stuff turkey’s with stuffing, and then stuff ourselves with the stuffed turkey. We don’t really need those special days do we? But they are traditions that we hold dear. That is how I view Valentine’s day. It’s tradition, and we observe it. I know people have alternately turned it into singles awareness day, and you know what? That’s fine. Do what you need to do. I still like the romantic stuff.<br />
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Tomorrow is my sister’s party. We are looking forward to hanging out and celebrating her 30th birthday. I have all sorts of yummy things in store for her. I’m hoping the weather holds up, and the jello wrestling ring that I am planning on setting up can still happen. If not, I still have a few other things that I can keep her occupied with. Least of which will be target practice with blown up pictures of the least favorite people she has dealt with over the past 30 years. Nothing says “getting over my past” like shooting your crossbow between your ex boyfriend’s eyes. That’s not really what I have planned. We don’t really care about those people, I just think it would be funny.<br />
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This weekend, I am also looking forward to looking at hand guns for myself. My husband has been giving me lessons on how to operate his, but my hands are too small to easily reach the clip release one handed, and the slide is harder for me to pull back with my left hand without moving the gun to an unsafe position. He is just as excited as I am. We are bonding over fire arms, which is entirely more useful than bonding over video games. It makes me happy to be doing something with my husband other than our usual routine, and learning how to properly defend yourself with a gun just makes good sense. <br />
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As soon as I have the hand gun right for me, hopefully we will be taking our courses to conceal carry. I am being told that there is legislation in the works that would allow us to open carry without a permit. I think this is a highly unwise position. I think everyone who wants to buy a gun must at least once, go though lengthy and proper training. The more people out there with guns who know what they are doing will be a relief. If we just let any old fool have a gun and let them carry it on their hip in public, well we deserve to get shot if that happens. <br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-13719881939458652732013-02-07T21:40:00.001-06:002013-02-07T22:02:34.703-06:00What The Puck?Someone is sitting on the fast forward button again. The weeks are flying by in a cloud of paperwork. I sit down Monday morning at my desk, and when I finally look up from my work, another week has slipped past. This week was no exception. The only thing that keeps me from floating off in a sea of numbers and demanding people is when my phone alarm tells me it's time to clock out and go home. Thank goodness for that alarm. <br />
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Time flying by does have it's advantages. Such as, next week is Valentine's day, and then my sister's birthday. She is joining the dirty thirty club. Welcome to the party little sister! Geritol cocktails and centrum silver pie will be served. The party ends at 9pm , because that's when old people like us have to go to bed. Don't forget to soak your false teeth, and put some Bengay on those aching joints. ;) Since she hasn't read this, I'm not dead yet. But she will soon enough. In lieu of flowers, please donate money to my husband. He will need it to bury me. <br />
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In other news, I'm planning on sewing some things for my best friend's baby shower. I have the materials, I just need the time. Somewhere between making dinner and passing out from exhaustion, I've got to make time for it. It will be so cute, and totally worth it. Plans are in the works for an amazing party for baby B. He will be spoiled before he even takes his first breath. That's the way it should be. <br />
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Tomorrow night, the hubby and I are taking the youngest nephew to a hockey game my company is sponsoring. He is into watching sports now, and while that is cool, I am clueless. My family isn't an athletic one. Our sports have always been hunting and fishing. I guess we were bound to have a sports fan come along eventually. Tonight he asked me who I would be rooting for at the game tomorrow. I played it safe by naming the home team. I don't know jack about them. I have a feeling I will be answering a bunch of questions. Maybe I should read up on the game before we leave. I don't know hockey from a puck on the ground. *Lame pun totally intended.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-48539391123611804372013-01-28T14:13:00.001-06:002013-01-28T14:13:25.172-06:00Better Late Than NeverTo say that it has been a while since I posted, is, well, obvious. I am trying to find my new rhythm. My prior job allowed me much more free time during the week. But this job affords me very little free time. Which is both good and bad. I am always busy here, and I still have so much to learn. <br />
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Unlike insurance, the procedures and regulations I work with aren’t changed by a few governing bodies. Here, any Tom, Dick, or Harry can come in and switch it up on a whim. I am held accountable for real time accounting. This is the largest part of what I do. You can’t dilly-dally with numbers. They are what they are unless my boss tells me something different. So during the work day, I am nose to the grindstone. I have to be paying attention and worrying about several things all day.<br />
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I am sitting in the very center of a chaotic, but mostly organized unit. I am literally dead center of four offices. To my right I have the VP, and my main boss. He reminds me of just about any “good old boy”, I have ever met. He is also hot tempered, and never lets the small stuff go. He cares about our individual happiness, and is very quick with a thank you or complement. He is a mass of contradictions. He drives a Chevy to work, but he has a Ford and a Toyota at home (all trucks of course). It took me my first month here to figure out that he yells for no other reason than his blood pressure is up. He yells and isn’t mad at all, it is just the way he talks. But when he is pissed, you know it. He won’t talk to you. He will let you trap yourself. He is unlike anyone I have ever worked with. I personally like him. Others in my office are afraid of him, but they just haven’t spent any time with him. He’s not a bad guy.<br />
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The three other men I work with have their own personality quirks. One is an engineer, the other a right hand man to the boss, and the last one is our man in the field. They are all very nice and like to be helpful. The funny part is, we have to work like a unit to get things done. We aren’t there yet. There is discord amongst the ranks. We all get along just fine, but I am coming aboard with the knowledge that our right hand man is retiring in a year from now. He jokingly said he was training me to replace him. I recoiled in horror at this. There is no way in hell I could deal with what he does. That thought alone makes my head explode. I can see myself here for many years. But I still have so much to learn.<br />
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As per usual, I have been busy at home too. Birthday parties, and exercising, and baby shower planning. I have kept my best friend’s news of her pregnancy under wraps for far too long. I am so excited to announce that at some point in late may early June, Leslie will be giving birth to my 4th nephew! His name is Brock, and as you can guess, I am already getting excited about a new baby to coo over. <br />
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The last one was my friend Sara’s little one. He’s now a year and then some. He’s still cute and squishy, but new baby smell is the best! As much as I wished she would have a frilly little girl that I could dress up in tulle and satin, I am just as excited to have another boy who loves dinosaurs and who I can take fishing at the nearby pond. My mind has been churning over ideas and details for the baby shower. My thoughts are pulling towards a co-ed shower. I know most men turn their noses up at the thought of a baby shower, but in my mind it makes sense.<br />
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Excluding men from this tradition is a poor practice in my mind. It’s not a bachelorette party. We aren’t hooting, hollering and carrying on. We are showering the mother and new baby with gifts to make sure that the baby and parents have everything they need and want. Why shouldn’t the father be in on that? I understand why the old tradition was women only. Because birthing a child was between the woman folk only. Doctors didn’t help during labor, midwives did. But that was before hospitals, where the tradition carried on to leave the men in the waiting room, and eventually this changed too. These days coed baby showers are normal. The father should be a part of everything involving the baby. Including the celebration. Plus it helps with uncomfortable family members and friends who are related to the dad but don’t really know anyone else. A baby is a blessing, I think everyone should be included in showing support and love for the new life. Plus, when it comes time to move all of the present, big strong men are needed… ;)<br />
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So that’s what I have been up to. Living. I will be able to find room to write in my days again soon. I just have to learn that even if I am getting home, cooking, and working out, I should still have one to two hours of blogging time. If I want this blogging and posting thing to happen, I had better find time to do it other than 8-5 Monday through Friday. Can you dig?<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5821316887415947108.post-34872202706982614512013-01-11T13:08:00.001-06:002013-01-11T13:08:44.881-06:00Idle hands? What is that? I don't think I have been this happy that it is Friday in a long time. I have had a very busy week at my new job. We didn't have any holidays or half days to break up the week. I seems impossible that I have only been here 4 weeks, but the calender doesn't lie, and neither does my stress headaches or eye twitches. My job is built to be stressful. While the accounting that I do is thankfully simple, I also have to know what fingers I have in pies, which flavored pies those fingers are in, what time they were baked, how much they cost to make, and how much profit we will get. For extra fun, I need to know the type of crust and what brand flour. I don't work in a bakery, by the way. I work in metal buildings. If it were pies, it would be easier. I know what I am talking about when the subject is pies. Construction is out of my comfort zone. Slowly but surely, I am figuring it all out. <br />
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The bedroom remodel is complete! We have lovely cherry wood floors. The paint color looks good with the comforter and accessories we purchased. All is well! But, now that we have such a nice bedroom, we notice the hallway needs sprucing up. We have done a number on the walls over the past few Halloweens with decorations. We did have extra trim paint left... All we would need is some drywall spackle, a couple cans of paint, and maybe a couple new light fixtures. We also got a great deal on our bedroom floor. Taking up the tile won't be hard. You get where I am going with this don't you? Yep. We are going to work on our u-shaped hallway that leads to the front and garage doors. Like I said, we got the home improvement ball rolling finally. <br />
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This year is only two weeks old, and here we are accomplishing things. I have even mastered bread baking. Yes, it's true! I used to be a bread flunky. But thanks to one of my mom's gifts from Christmas (Average Joe Artisan Bread Kit), the wonder of one hour bread mixes, and my husband liking doughy bread, I have made several loves over the past few weeks. It's a miracle! Beebs is excited because he can think of very few things more satisfying than fresh from the oven bread. Now to think of a new cooking challenge. It used to be cheese cake, but I finally got that down. Now bread is out of the way, maybe I will learn how to master cheese making. That sounds like a tasty hobby. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17402101007713603550noreply@blogger.com0