Friday, April 30, 2010


Yes, I am one of those incredibly annoying people who has vivid, in techni-color dreams, and am one of those people who likes to recount those aforementioned dreams all the while stifling my uncontrollable giggles.

Because, I have dreams comparable to hallucinations induced by very illegal, very strong and very bad for you drugs, like LSD (which I totally just texted Hubs, asking which drug is the most extreme hallucinogen, and his response was, "lsd is the benchmark for an extreme hallucinogen. also mescalin, which is in psychedelic mushrooms." And no, Hubs does not do drugs--except of course for his brief stint with codeine, which thank God that is over--but he is a man. And men like to "research" things because they are kind of obsessive and have to know every minute detail of anything they like or would like to do. Like right now, Hubs does a lot of "research" on fixed gear bikes since he just built one; and before that it was Italian menswear because that man can dress; and then before that it was boats because he was obsessed with fishing for a while; and then before that it was Tahoes because he's always wanted one; and sometime back before he met me, it was drugs, because he thought they were cool? Not sure really. Hmm.)

The prime dream time for me would be the 20 or so minutes between Hubs' alarm and his eventual return to the bedroom, where I am still snoozing and dreaming. (On a sidenote, which I think I have divulged on here somewhere already, every time Hubs walks into the bedroom post-shower, he asks, "Are you ready, babe?" Granted, I am still asleep. In the bed. With the sheets pulled up to my nose. All the lights are still out. And, I AM ASLEEP. So every time he asks this, in my head, I scream back at him: "DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M READY?!" I'm not a morning person. Repeat: I am not a morning person.)

I have always had very vivid dreams and most times, I remember these dreams.

When I was younger, I had recurring dreams (always the scary ones).

For example, I had this one dream for a few years, where I was watching Oprah and she was doing a show on "baby dumps." Morbid, right? It was a nightmare that would wake me up every night nearly in tears. It wasn't a long dream. It always began with her (Oprah) introducing the segment and then went to videos of the dumps, piled high with dead babies. I don't remember what the story was behind the dumps and that is all that the dream consisted of, but it scared me every time.

Another of my recurring, childhood dreams was one in which my mom left my brother and I in our van while she ran into a store. A gang of Mexicans (I know that this is totally un-PC, which doesn't really bother me, but I'm just relating the details here, so no angry comments!) broke into the van and carried both of us off. I always woke up after that part.

Weird, right?

I don't really have scary dreams anymore, and if I do, I don't remember them. But, I do have these horrible dreams as I'm falling asleep that I hate with a passion.

I have dreams where I am eating something and begin to choke and can't get whatever is stuck in my throat out. I also have dreams where I am swimming or near water and all of a sudden I am under the water, trying to get to the surface, but never make it. I call them the choking and drowning nightmares, and they are a nightly occurrence. I think that it has to do with my biggest fear of dying due to asphyxiation. I think that they must be like the falling dreams that all you normal people out there have, but of course, those easy-peasy dreams are not for me. I wake up each night gasping for breath because I had most likely been holding it, thinking that if I breathed, a deluge of water or a chunk of steak would flood my lungs. Fun times.

But, the best dreams are those early morning dreams that I love to relate to Hubs as I drunkenly (on sleep) drive him to work, unless I am super annoyed at having to be awake that early, which is a likely occurrence.

I will now relate to you 3 of my most recent and more interesting dreams:

1. (the most recent) I have dreams where I am pregnant or have just given birth A LOT. And, I don't know why. Because, I definitely do not want kids right now, so that might be the reason why I  dream I am pregnant and so vividly that I wake up grasping my stomach searching for a lovely lady bump. Thank God I haven't found one yet. Anyways, in this most recent dream, I had just given birth and took my very large newborn (think, toddler-sized, who looked a lot like Monster oddly enough) to a restaurant for some grub (I guess?). We (the babe and I) weren't eating, just sitting in a booth as my large, Monster-like baby ran up and down the cushioned seat, when one of Hubs' real-life coworkers came up to me shaking her head (this coworker is a very sweet woman and would never say anything like this to me, but this is how it went in Dreamland). She said, "Oh darling, this is not going to work." I looked at her timidly, while wrangling in my very large baby and asked, "What do you mean?" "This," she said as she waved her hand from the top of my head to the floor. "You know that you have got to look better than this if you want to keep that husband of yours," she said. And, I was looking rough. Let's just say that the baby wasn't the only large person at the table, and I had frizzy hair (yikes)."But, I just gave birth," I said. "It doesn't matter," she said. "You really think that's going to make a difference to him?" IT DARN WELL BETTER, I thought, as I woke up in a nasty mood. But, remembering the dream only made me laugh. Hubs didn't find it that funny. Oh well.

2. The other week I had a very colorful dream, where I was at summer camp (yes, as a 22 year old, married woman) with Hubs (who never looks like Hubs in my dreams). We were sitting by an indoor pool waiting for swimming lessons, (oh, it gets better), when all of a sudden a flood of girls and guys in Vegas showgirl attire burst through the doors and began the most colorful and extravagant synchronized swimming routine that I have ever seen in my life. The girls were squeezed into sequined bodysuits and lavish hair and makeup. Hubs and I sat there awestruck as this elaborate show went on and on. It was like an Italian opera without the singing. There was a love triangle, as the red-sequined girl fought with the blue-sequined girl over the white-sequined guy. It was incredible. And all of the people in the show were made up of all of the popular public school kids (I was a private schooler) from my hometown, which made it that much better. Now that I type it out, it doesn't seem that cool, but honestly, who dreams about synchronized swimming????

3. The final and my favorite dream that still gives me a good laugh happened a few weeks ago. I was on a boardwalk somewhere that I have never been before (although it kind of reminded me of the atrium part of cruise ships), waiting for Hubs. Except that dream Hubs was not the tall, dark and handsome real-life Hubs. Instead, he was short, kind of squatty with long blond hair (and some other facial hair that I will get to) with major marijuana breath. As soon as this dream Hubs walked up to me, I started to hound him for his long hair. I said that it was embarrassing; it looked sloppy; would he please have it cut. This dream Hubs got very defensive, asked why I wanted to change him and mold him into something that he clearly wasn't; if I couldn't accept him for who he was, then maybe we shouldn't be together (which is nothing at all like my sweet, real-life Hubs). So, I gave in and said, "Well, fine, if you feel that way, I don't want you to cut your hair. But, the french-braided nose hair and mustache have got to go!" And then, I woke up giggling.

Do you have strange, psychedelic dreams? And by psychedelic, I mean that sometimes, my dreams look like this:

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Oh the worries..

I get the worries a lot.

For example:

-I worry that Hubs and I are complete bores. My biggest fear is that we are wasting our youth. You see, we don't exactly have any friends here in Columbia. I think that it was up in the air for a while as to whether or not we would even live in Columbia and then we knew that it would only be for about 10 months, so we kind of just didn't make friends.
That sounds awful, but its the truth.
Most weekends, are spent visiting my family or his or doing absolutely nothing.
Or, my other MAJOR worry is taking place and that means isolation for hours at a time....

-Hubs called me a workaholic the other day (and I totally think he has something there). Its so funny that after months of begging for any type of employment, I have been for the last couple of months drowning in jobs.
I just can't say no.
And I know why.
I can't say no because after begging month after month for more opportunities to work, I am finally getting my wish and it would be so unfair for me to say thanks but no thanks. I'm good with what I have right now.
But I worry about this.
I worry about whether or not I am a workaholic.
And the scary part is that I know I am.
I like being useful.
I like doing something.
If I'm not doing something that matters then I am doing the complete opposite and being really, really lazy.
And I am sick of Hubs working his butt off everyday while I just sit around and wish that I had a job and could do something to contribute.
Now that I have jobs and am making as much money as Hubs, I feel much more secure.
And it has gotten rid of a pretty big worry: Are we going to make it through this month without having to call my parents for a favor.
And that feels really good.

-I am always worried that I'm going to run out of gas. As soon as the light comes on, I have to get to a gas station. (And I absolutely hate getting gas. Even if Hubs is 10 minutes late for work and the light comes on, I worry and fret over the gas situation until he sighs and tells me to pull off at a station and he fills up for me. He's just the best ever.)

-I always worry that when I return to the cottage after a few hours of being gone that it will be burned to the ground.

-Before I go to get a movie from the redbox, I worry that other people will come in to rent or return movies and they will form a long line behind me, tapping their feet impatiently, sighing and craning over my shoulder the whole time. I like to take my time finding a movie and hate to feel all bothered and have to rush.

-I always worry that I am going to say exactly what I am thinking. Because you see, I am very opinionated and don't mind in the least sharing my thoughts, but sometimes it just isn't appropriate. And I don't think that my filter has distinguished between appropriate and inappropriate. Isn't that what a filter is for anyways?

-I worry that my next trip to TJMAXX might result in a hissy fit as I finally tell off one of the shopping cart ladies, who tries to run me over or push me out of the way with their cart to bug off. SHOPPING CARTS SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED IN THAT STORE. I don't get why older women think that they can hurry my browsing along because they are older and are wielding a cart. I'm not afraid of you, cart women!

-I worry constantly that Hubs is bored or annoyed or frustrated with me. Silence (even while we are watching tv) makes me nervous. You see, I enjoy a running commentary during tv-watching. Commercials are mandatory analytic breaks. Like, I enjoy discussing the mind-blowing renditions of pop songs and show tunes by the Glee cast. Hubs just likes to listen.

-Now, I'm always worried that I will receive comments from angry bloggers. Scaryy..

What worries do you ALWAYS have?

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Sad Times

There was a story on the Today show yesterday morning that made me sick to my stomach. I couldn't believe that something like that could happen anywhere in America, but then I remembered stories from past years about the same ignorance and thoughtlessness that eventually resulted in a death.

Did you hear about the man, dubbed "Good Samaritan" in NYC, who was stabbed and left to die on the sidewalk after helping a woman being mugged?

Well, not only did I hear the full news report, but I also saw the surveillance video of the man lying face-down on the sidewalk, dying. It showed 25 people walk by and not help in the hour and 20 minutes that he laid there before police finally showed up.

I am not blaming the police. How should they know that a man was lying on the sidewalk helpless as he bled to death internally?

I am blaming the 25 people who walked by and did nothing. Granted, it was late at night and most of them probably assumed that he was some bum or drunk passed out on the sidewalk.

But, I have to wonder about the guy who flipped him over, took one look and then walked away. Did he not see the wounds or the blood? Did he even think for one second, the least I can do is call the cops?

And then I think about the guy who laughed, took out his phone, snapped a picture and walked away. Did he not wonder at all about why a man would be lying in the middle of the sidewalk obviously unconscious?

Those thoughts didn't leave me all day. And they were especially poignant as I drove down the interstate and every car in front of me on the four lane highway simultaneously slammed on the brakes as five cars in nearly synchronized moves pulled onto the shoulder.

Why, you might ask, did these five cars risk the lives of every single person driving along behind them?

Because, there was a wild cat on the side of the road, who needed rescuing, I guess. At least, I assumed that the reasons for their frenzied moves upon exiting their vehicles were weak attempts to wrangle the wild cat to safety.

And rather than be relieved that the animal was receiving the helpful attention that it obviously needed, I just wanted to pull over and give those idiot drivers a piece of my mind.

How ridiculous is our society that we would risk our lives and the countless other lives hanging in the balance of our quick decision-making as we slam on the brakes and swerve through four lanes of traffic for an animal that in all likelihood will only claw out our eyeballs as we attempt to rescue it, but we won't check on the well-being of a hero as he lay bleeding to death on the sidewalk?

Where are our priorities?

I love animals--like I cry when I see an opossum run over and almost go into hysterics if I see a cat or dog that has been hit, but I don't love them enough to risk the lives of my fellow commuters to save one. Had I seen the animal in time to pull safely over to the side of the road, I would have done so. But, slamming on brakes as you hurl 80 mph down the highway could be lethal.

And, it just seemed so wrong after watching that news report. So wrong that our society holds the life of an animal higher than the life of a fellow man.

It just makes me sad, very sad indeed to consider the likelihood of 5 cars swerving over to the side of the highway to help someone lying helpless on the ground.

What would you do in such a situation?

I think that there is no doubt that from here on out, I will act even if it is to just call the police and let them know about the passed-out drunk lying on his face in the middle of the sidewalk.

You just never know when your faulty assumptions could mean life or death.


Tuesdays are Monster and Aunt Beezy Days, and today was a sad time, too:

Monday, April 26, 2010


This new banner is unlikely to last for any significant amount of time.

I have been putting off this creative process for as long as possible because,

1. I am a psycho-perfectionist-freak who can't leave well enough alone.
2. Hubs may or may not divorce me during the process of huffing when he doesn't give a full and detailed explanation of what he "really thinks about what I've just done, because this is for the internet and its about us and you have to like it" or when he can no longer stand my constant cursing of Photoshop and all of my inadequacies which spring from that its-all-German-to-me-program.
3. I am a trial and error kind of gal, and this is only trial #3. I hope that none of you stumbled upon trials 1 and 2 yesterday.

So, I am just warning you now that this banner (though quite nice at the moment) may not last very long. And, I just want you all to know that this is expected and is not a product of flakiness or indecision on my part. It just means that its imperfections could be ignored no longer.

(Like, its already really bugging me that the title is not centered between the images............................... huff.................................darn Photoshop.......................................)


In other news, we are back to the 5am wake-up call, as today is Hubs' first day back to work after his tonsillectomy. I must say that 5am does not go well with a 1am bedtime. Needless to say, I did not crawl back into bed this morning after dropping Hubs off, because I am not sure that I would wake up anytime soon, and I kind of have a real job now.

I kind of have a busy day today, too, which is good and bad.

Good, because I like to be busy and I will be making a good amount of money for our TV fund (which is up to $195 now!) and means that we should be able to buy our dream TV in about 2 weeks.

Bad, because it means that I have to be showered and completely ready by 8am, which is a big stretch for me. Typically, no matter how early I begin, I never make it to work before 8:25am. Its like the Universe is against me getting to work any earlier. But this morning, Universe, I will win, because I will be wearing my new, super fly white jeans. You just can't mess with white jeans--not even you, Universe.

Random facts (which I have recently learned) on a Monday morning:

1. Did you know that over 80% of pornography is downloaded at Panera and Starbucks? (Its because they have open networks, making individual transactions impossible to trace.)
2. Did you know that adding cold cream or milk to hot potatoes (in making mashed potatoes) will produce a gloopy mess? (Its because the cold liquid causes the starch in the potatoes to bind.)
3. Did you know that in California rental property owners must clean from top to bottom between tenants? (Not so in SC or WV, where the cleaning responsibility is left up to the departing tenants, who NEVER clean by the way.)
4. Have you ever noticed that some magazines in the grocery store check-out line (think: Cosmo) have plastic or metal sheets covering the front of the magazine? (That is to block obscene images--like nearly naked men and women--from the innocent eyes of children and other innocents, because in the 80s, those magazine covers were considered soft porn.)
5. Did you know that the movie I Love You, Man is quite possibly the worst movie ever? (I absolutely hate sitting through movies that make me embarrassed for the main character, and let's just say that Paul Rudd's character made me uncomfortable for the entire movie.)

On reality tv:

1. I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT EMILIO SOSA DID NOT WIN PROJECT RUNWAY. That just broke my heart. I loved his sassy color. Seth Aaron did a great job and really surprised me. In fact, there were quite a few of his pieces that I would have worn. But, how could Michael Kors forgive that awful purple bondage piece??? How, MK????
2. I think that Ramona (RHNYC) is insane. She has no filter. And those eyes? That runway walk and her "question" for Jill about Kodak being behind the times (which she asked at a Kodak party, hosted by Jill) sealed her fate for me. Class-less, Ramona. Tsk, tsk.
3. I think I am obsessed with 9 By Design. I kind of want to be them (except maybe for the whole 7-kids-thing). If you don't know what I'm talking about, hulu it. Can I use Hulu as a verb?
4. I have given up on the second half of Biggest Loser since it interferes with Glee (whose Madonna episode was pure genius, I say!), but I don't really mind because the second half of BL is just the drawn-out weigh-in and vote-off.
5. Is anyone else impatiently awaiting the next episode of Christian Siriano: Having a Moment? Me too.

Wow. I watch way too much TV.

Shout out: Courtney Rae, this video is the reason why you should watch Glee. Enjoy.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Just one of those days

Ever had one of those days that leaves you feeling out of breath and empty?
Like a limp noodle?
Like a flat tire?
Like a fish out of water?
Like an overworked and underpaid figment of something much larger than you will ever be?

Today was one of those days.

I'm ready for tomorrow, except that I'm not, because tomorrow is most likely to be just as bad as today if not worse.

I'm only ready for tomorrow because it will mean that Thursday is just a sleep away.
And, I love Thursdays.

I am feeling much better now that I am home and in my pjs and Hubs (only 7 days post-tonsillectomy) is cooking me my pesto noodles.

The fact that Glee comes on in 2 hours, 46 minutes and 59, 58, 57, 56... seconds and that that episode is themed MADONNA makes me want to cry in relief. Thank you, Fox. Thank you for your ingenious invention of the best show on earth.

It is really sad that after the most frustrating day of my life ended, I wanted to redeem it with retail therapy. Somehow, Hubs informing me of all of the bills that came out today was the cold shower that I needed not to go do some plastic damage. Target you are safe for one more day.

Why couldn't I be one of those people who MUST run out my frustrations and feelings? I would be so skinny if that were the case. Darn my emotional outlet and its lack of calorie burning.

So, as Hubs offers me (yet again) a shot of codeine (which I should totally take with a chaser of codeine), which I will refrain from, I am now going to go and eat my yummy pesto noodles and hope that you all had much brighter and happier days than me.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Monday Night Thoughts

1. Coffee icecream is better than the best. Why do they even make anything other than coffee-flavored ice cream? Does anyone even buy those other, less-awesome flavors?

2. I've lost 2 pounds since Hubs' tonsillectomy. I guess the pureed food and tons of soft veggies have made a pretty big impact on my diet. No complaints here. Too bad, the healthy pureed food allows me to justify my late-night cravings for Cheez-Its (sooo bad for you!) and icecream!

3. There is a tub of Earth Fare pesto in my fridge and it is seriously calling my name. Can't wait for dinner tomorrow!

4. Funny how 1-3 are all about food. I am obsessed. Let's move on to something else. Like, the Panther and her affinity for the jingling of the cutlery drawer paired with the opening and closing of the refrigerator. Apparently, that means suppa-time to her kitty ears, which induces meows and leg-rubbing and her stalking me around the kitchen yowling. Wow, food again. Mooving on.

5. Hulu is awesome. I hope that they get the full Season 1 of Kell on Earth. I missed the final episode. Gasp! So far, Hubs and I have enjoyed Parenthood and Top Chef Masters. And I have enjoyed Project Runway and 9 By Design and RHNY. I hope that when I die, I go to a Bravo! heaven.

6. Pandora pisses me off sometimes. When I say that I don't like a song, I don't want to hear ANYMORE songs that sound like it!

7. Earlier today, Hubs asked if I wanted to take some of his liquid codiene with him. And then, I think he giggled. AND, I JUST THINK ITS HILARIOUS THAT HUBS WANTED ME TO DO DRUGS WITH HIM.

8. Hubs and I now have $95 in our tv fund. Wooo hoooo! Only need about $400 more. And the rule is that only extra-curricular money can go towards it--like babysitting and housesitting and any kind of sitting. (Call me, people. I will keep your kids. But, not for free.)

9. Hubs and I decided that our first dog will be an Italian Greyhound. They are the perfect size with the perfect amount of energy. And the little gray-spotted ones are a-dor-a-ble.

10. I couldn't sleep last night because my mind was racing with all of the designs I want to implement in our sweet apartment in the Wild State. I have decided that the wall in the living room across from the gigantic windows will be painted a soft orange/burnt sienna/salmon color. I want the couches (2 of them, because we are cool like that) to have white slipcovers (which I will probably talk myself out of with a black cat and all, so they might end up navy blue). There will be a huge picture of Hubs and I from the wedding (no matte in a shiny white frame) on the orange/burnt sienna,salmon colored wall. On the wall adjacent to the orange wall will be two identical bookshelves stained dark brown or painted a dark color (or maybe even the orange color!) The gigantic windows will have sheer curtains (NO BLINDS! blegh). And, the beautiful oriental rug (inherited from my parents) will grace the floor. Oh yeah, and our sweet flatscreen tv will be on the wall opposite the bookcases.

(this picture by Steven McCabe)

I have big plans for the bedroom, but that can wait for my next spewing.

Good night to all.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Happy 100th Post to Me - The Aftermath

Today, we celebrate my 100th post. It has been a long journey to this point. Literally.

You see, I had accumulated a very lengthy and detailed list of 100 things about me for your reading pleasure. But Boyfriend Mac took it upon himself to delete all 100 of those things hours before I was set to post the masterpiece. (Between you and me, I think Boyfriend Mac was a little bit jealous that he didn't make the cut.)

So, after an hour of throwing my hands in the air, exclaiming "whhaaaat did I just dooooo," I decided to leave the blog world for a bit to lick my wounds.

And so, wounds duly licked and healed, I am back, blog world, for my 100th post.

This is the other reason it has taken me this long to post:

Please ignore my horrible outfit. HOSPITALS ARE MEATLOCKERS (probably a much truer statement than I would like to admit), which resulted in me wearing my oversized sweater over my shirt dress, making me look pregnant and bloated. Blegh. Keep in mind that it was early, too.

So, yes, Hubs did indeed go under the knife on Tuesday. I was so nervous. We walked into his little pre-op room and I wanted to cry seeing him in a hospital gown. But I courageously fought the tears for the rest of the morning and during his tonsillectomy and turbinate reduction (for better breathing). It also helped to know that every-single-person in that hospital is in love with my Hubs and they were all (literally) concerned about him. I knew that he was in the best hands ever.

An hour and a half later, I could see him again.

Looks good for just having had surgery, right? His mom and I walked into the recovery room, and he asked for the crossword puzzle and actually did quite a few of them! He was a little googlie-eyed and glazed over, but overall, I would never have known that he just had surgery.

I have had a very easy time of nursing him back to health. He really hasn't had that much pain until yesterday and this morning. I haven't gotten much sleep with him taking medicine every one and a half hours, but I wouldn't trade taking care of him for anything.

And, to just make this the best week ever, last night as I stumbled back from the toilet, the Panther decided to take a detour under my right foot, which made me jump to the left and slam my toe into the very sharp corner of the table leg resting there. This made for lots of blood at 3am and a broken toe for me! Oh joy!

Here is an abbreviated list of things that make me happy right now to prepare you for the big 100.

1. Hubs snoring gently beside me, drunk on liquid codine.
2. The large cup of coffee I am about to down.
4. I am about to go to Target and buy a shirt.
5. The jar of vitamin E moisturizer (its like cold cream) from Rite Aid that I slather over various parts of my body multiple times a day.
6. Its sandal weather, so I don't have to shove my broken toe into a shoe.
8. My fast-approaching birthday.
9. My parents coming to visit on Sunday.
10. Pandora.

I've missed you, blog world.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Wednesday Morning Randomosity: Because Last Week Taught Me Naught

-Monday morning, I stepped out of the front door and into a watercolor, or maybe even a fish bowl. The tall trees finally had their leaves returned in full, green glory, making the sky feel much lower. The wonderful pollen had tinted everything yellow. I love it when the world turns green again.

-My hair is really blond right now. I mean, like really blond--like Playboy-should-get-my-mom's-number-and-make-her-their-#1-stylist-blond.

-The "we" factor of marriage frustrates me.

Case and point: I took our the car into the shop yesterday morning, because it was making some fun-ky noises. I had to stand in line for about 30 minutes before it was my turn to explain to the nice man behind the counter just exactly what I thought was wrong with the car. This meant lots of hand-waving and odd noise-making to mimic exactly the "clunk-clunk-rattle-clunk" of the front left tire and the "wah-wah-waaah" of the back right tire every time we came to a stop. (See!! There's the "we!" I can't escape it!) Not sure how the waving of my hands was going to help, but they were waved. So, I was standing in line with 30 very long minutes to plan detail by detail exactly what I was going to say.

Thought: We brought in the car last weekend--Wait!--Why am I saying "we" when I'm the only one here. That would sound really weird if I said "we."

Rethought: I brought our car in last weekend--Wait!--"Our" car. But, its just me! Why can't it be my car? And, besides, technically, both Hubs and I brought the car in last weekend, but I immediately went and sat with his mom in her car while he went into the shop and gave them the keys and the problem. So, technically, Hubs brought it in. What's wrong with me!?

Re-Rethought: My husband brought our car in last weekend. There, that's much better. Because I mention Hubs, I can say "our" car and not sound like a total freak.

In the end, I have no recollection of what exactly it was that I said. But, isn't it pathetic that the "we" war was raging through my head for the entire 30 minutes that I stood in line? It got me thinking that I will struggle with the "we" war from here on out.

Is it bad that I now think of Hubs and I as a unit and that what happens to me, happens to him and that what I do, we both do?? Is that crazy!? I'm crazy.

-This is for Sandra: Sandy, dump him!!!

-Hubs and I joined my family at the beach this past weekend. While people-watching on the beach, I noticed a very large number of little people, and by little people, I mean those persons from age 11 to 14, walking down the beach with their cell phones open, in hand and texting. Ridiculous! Can you even see the screen in the bright, beach light!? Kids these days....

-Ok, now I have to go get ready for work. Byyyyeee!