How does he love me?

Let me count the ways:
-New York style
-How the Cookie Crumbles
-Mint condition
-Nutty Girl
-All Razzed Up
-Aloha, You Nutty German
-Parlez Vous Praline
-White in Shining Armor
-Chip Off the Old Choc
-Mad for Manhattan
-Fly Me to Heathrow
-Do the Truffle

He got me a sampler platter from Flarah's (http://www.flarahs.com/) a little Bistro/Catering/Cheesecake shop that enticed me in with it's fabulous decor, and made me a loyal fan with its decadent desserts.

True Love

It’s Valentines Day ladies and gentlemen and I feel I must indulge in the lovefest. So in honor of the 14th I’ve created a list of 14 things I love about my husband. To be more concise, a list of 14 obscure and offbeat things I love about him, because he should know by now that his love, compassion and faithfulness to me and our children means the entire world to me. But he may not know that the following really turn me on and/or endear him more and more to me every single day:

1. He can do math in his head. Now this might not seem like such a big deal to others with the same ability, but to a gal who can’t add without secretly moving her fingers behind her back, this is a big turn-on.

2. He knows the capitals of all 50 states and can recite them at will. This gets me a little hot actually, "Why don’t you come on over here and whisper the capital of Wisonsin in my ear big boy!"

3. He does this little hop on one leg after he throws a bowling ball, and I don’t know what it is about it but I have a hard time not taking him right there on the waxed hardwood.

4. He looks great in baseball pants.

5. He actually organizes the kitchen cupboards.

6. He leaves a trail of toothpicks wherever he goes and while this is mostly intensely irritating, it’s also sometimes nice to stumble upon one on a lonely night at home and realize that he was there, just a few hours earlier and that he’ll be home and warm in bed next to me soon . . . so that I can wake up and complain about how I almost impaled myself with that toothpick he left on the floor!

7. He has never once, and I mean NEVER, said to me; "I don’t get this whole blogging thing that you do and why you would want to post such random and sometimes personal things for the world to see." And he’s never censored me nor suggested that I should censor myself either and that means more to me than he’ll probably ever know.

8. He’ll often say "whatever makes you happy" and he actually means it.

9. Even though I have enough scrapbooking paper to cover the entire surface of the moon – twice – he never tells me I have too much or stops me from buying even more. Sometimes when he’s out shopping without me he’ll buy me scrapbooking supplies that he thinks I’ll like – all the girls are jealous of that one!

10. Who won the 1972 World Series? What was Gorbachev’s middle name? I don’t know nor do I really care, but my man has vast trivia knowledge and he loves to flaunt it. And I love to watch him flaunt it. Especially when I’m on his Trivial Pursuit team.

11. Whenever we have guests over that have never been to our house before he immediately takes them on a complete tour; top to bottom, refrigerator to toilet, closet to furnace. I can’t say that I get it, but I love how proud he is of the home we’ve made together, and it gives me motivation and reason to clean up the spilled laundry detergent and wads of lint that accumulate on top of the dryer.

12. He’s got this incredible chest of hair and I love to run my fingers through it like they’re little gnomes running happily around in the flora and fauna of his manliness. Okay, that sounds a little weird doesn’t it? The point is that I love that hairy chest of his.

13. He took over litter box cleaning duty when I first became pregnant about 5 years ago, and has never suggested that I should take back that task. He’s so possessive of it that he actually gets upset with me if I clean them before he gets around to it. If that’s not a turn-on then I don’t know what is. Mere physical attraction and love might get you through the first couple years, but it’s things like this that keep the spark alive!

14. When he watches sports at home he yells and cheers like he’s on the sidelines, whereas when we’re actually in attendance at a sporting event, he’s as reserved as a normal person would be just watching it from home. Still haven’t figured this one out but I love it.

Happy Valentine’s day Baby! I love you.

If only she’d worn the pearls instead of the silver locket to that meeting with North Korea; they might have surrendered those nukes.

I overheard 3 women at work the other day strike up a conversation about Hillary Clinton, and as I was preparing to don my headphones and drown out the political fervor I was sure was about to erupt, I realized that they weren’t really talking about politics, they were just criticizing her jewelry.

One of them made the statement that it bothered her that every time she saw Mrs. Clinton that she seemed to be wearing the same earring and necklace set. The other 2 agreed and said something to the effect of how you’d think she’d have "people" who would be watching out for stuff like that. I mean after all she is a multi-millionaire and is running for the presidency. According to these women it’s quite different that you and I wear the same watch everyday or only own 3 necklaces, but a woman who’s going to be in the public eye and is seeking the presidency should have a vast array of stylish jewelry which she should rotate on a daily basis.

Now first off I was struck by the true absurdity of the conversation. Secondly I was struck with how catty women really are. Thirdly, I was in awe that three highly educated women would even stoop so low as to enter into such a conversation. Have we nothing better to do with our time ladies? Is our genetic need for competition with fellow members of our sex so strong that it manifests in conversations such as this?

Do women sit around and giggle about how silly Obama looked when he wore the exact same tie to the Iowa and North Carolina primaries or how Mitt Romney styles his hair? I don’t think so. I think it’s just natural for us to tear women down. Especially when they’re strong figures like Hillary that have such a polarizing effect on people. Imagine if she did win the presidency. After her inaugural speech there’ll be just as much conversation about what she wore as there is about what she said. It’s not fair, and the sad part is that we do it to ourselves. Men aren’t out there bashing McCain because he’s too short to pull off a double breasted suit, and yet we’re trash talking this strong intelligent woman because we think she should have more jewelry.

What if that earring and necklace set was a gift from Chelsea or an antique passed down from her grandmother? Even if it was a $12.50 set from Avon – who cares? I for one will be happy to place my vote for a woman who has withstood the fire and the shame of public humiliation from an adulteress husband. A woman who continues to hold her head high and stand by her principles; a wife, a mother, a daughter who is intelligent and passionate about this country. And I don’t mind when people say that she’s a power hungry bitch, because quite frankly, that’s what it takes to be president. Look at every other man who’s held the position and tell me that they weren’t power hungry attention seeking type A’s. She wants the power because she is confident that she can make this country a better place if she has it. The only difference is that she’s a woman so she’s labeled as a bitch instead of strong; stubborn instead of determined.

You know there are times when I think I’d make a pretty good fanatical liberal feminist. But most of the time all that angst just gives me a headache so I’ll step down from my soapbox now.

To my fellow cubicle dwellers

Let's say I'm walking on the sidewalk in front of your house and decide that I want to talk to your neighbor. Do I walk my ass into your backyard and yell over your fence?

No, I don't.

So don't walk your ass into my cubicle so that you can hang over my wall and talk to the person next to me. It's rude, it's disrespectful of my personal space and it's a little bit awkward especially when I have my headphones on and am staring intently at my screen and don't realize you're there until I reach over to open my top desk drawer . . . and find my hand in the top of your drawers instead.

Nostalgia - Part 2

Along with the diary I shared in my previous entry, I also came home with some other lovely treasures dug up from the vast depths of my Mother’s closet.

Here it is folks. A veritable symbol of the excess of my childhood and my Mother's penchant for expressing her love through gifts; The Barbie motorhome:


Isn’t it glorious? You could fit a veritable army of plastic blond bombshells in this baby. It came complete with living room, kitchen and bath.



Of course, after removing the mouse turds from the floor and wiping it down with an entire container of anti-bacterial wipes, the kids wanted to play with it. Aaron especially. So I dug out the Barbies that Mom had sent home with me months earlier and the memories just came flooding back.

Check this guy out. I call him Tubbs. If you look closely you’ll see that he’s not wearing socks. I don’t know if he came that way or if his socks got lost at some point in time, but you can’t deny that he looks like an authentic Miami Vice action figure.
I like to refer to these two as Madonna and George Michael. Sure they’re not as rough around the edges as the real things were, but every time I look at her the song “Dress you up in my love” plays on a loop in my head, and this guy – well let’s just say I’d get a little suspicious if he and Tubbs wandered into the bathroom of the mobile home together.

Dear Diary

My mom is going through her house and getting rid of stuff and she came across a diary from my youth. Thankfully there were only about 6 entries in it, none of which were very juicy. I know she cracked it open as soon as she found it, just hoping for some steamy confessions, because that's what I would have done if I was her.

I was only 10 when this entry was written. Ah to be 10 again. Matt Eddlemen was quite cute, in a scrawny geeky sense, and my instincts were right - he turned out to be barely even crush-worthy, especially once we hit high school. I totally kicked ass on that Pizza Hut reading challenge. I was in 'pepperoni and extra cheese personal pan pizza' heaven month after month!

The thing I like best about this is just how random it is. It goes straight from the weather, to pizza, to recess, and then straight on to love interests. Of course when I think back on it, that's pretty much the way my brain worked back then - random. And actually that's kind of how it still works, except I don't care much about the weather, don't have recess, or love interests - except my hubbie of course. Okay, so maybe the only constant is the love of free personal pan pizzas.

Tha Bomb!

Overheard at work between a white woman in her late 30’s and her very white manager:

"This is Tha Bomb!"

"What?"

"This spreadsheet that they sent over is the bomb, it’s great! It has all the data we need."

"Oh, . . . cool."

Now I’m not sure of the true origin of the phrase "Tha Bomb" but I’m sure its originator never intended for it to be used to describe a spreadsheet. Besides, the use of such terms really confuses the white folks who have never seen MTV. Therefore I’m contemplating routing the following around the office:

MEMO
To: All white employees
RE: Proper use of urban slang

It has come to the attention of management that certain urban slang terms are being used in the office inappropriately and are causing confusion amongst the staff. While we encourage the use of culturally diverse language it’s important to consider both your subject matter and your audience.

For example: If your co-worker thinks that Snoop Dogg is a cute nickname for Charlie Brown’s beagle then you may want to refrain from expressing your admiration of his new Lexus by saying, "That is one sweet ride homeboy, I bet you’re rollin’ in the honies!" (translation: That car is really neat. I assume you are able to garner the attention of attractive females with it.)

It’s also good to keep in mind that terms such as; Tha Bomb, Off the Hizzy, Dope, Fly, and Off the Hook should not be used to refer to data, spreadsheets, your new split screen monitor, the fancy new purple highlighters in supply or the new fax machine, nor should these terms be used by anyone who wears or has ever worn the following: Dockers, penny loafers, a sweater vest or any clothing item purchased at JC Penny.

Thank you for your cooperation and if you should have any further questions regarding the correct usage of urban slang, please contact Human Resources to check out the company video, "Shizzle your Cubizzle; Appropriate Use of Slang in the Corporate Environment" featuring Rob VanWinkle (fka Vanilla Ice).