Monday, June 29, 2009

Beware, Madonna!

Last night, the wife, grrrlz and I were enjoying the company of "Brown Dog.
Suddenly, Brown Dog went into pointer stance, as there was a bunny not 20 feet away. That dog stood there like a statue, pointing like there was no tomorrow. I don't mean for a few seconds--I mean minutes! Freckles and Lucy didn't know what the hell was going on, as evidenced in this photo. Looks like they are getting pointers from the pointer. Talk about earning your breed name. The dogs were so engrossed by Brown Dog's behavior that they didn't even notice the bunny. It was only after repeated commands to go get the bunny did Brown Dog break stance. Not surprisingly, Lucy and Freckles remained seated.

The wife is on leg two of three of her Annual Tour of the Cheddar Lands. I promised I wouldn't mow anything in her absence. I am also staying far away from the counters, not doing anything to the gardens, buying coffee instead of making it and basically going to work, eating and going to bed. Better safe than sorry.

The riding lawn mower is back, by the way. I will not be using it.

BTW, the wife remains distraught that Farrah Fawcett's death was completely overshadowed by Michael Jackson's death on the same day. I hate to tell her--it's not like he decided to die that day to one up Jill Munroe or anything. I'm sure he's wishing he had been around to lament her loss. The wife continues to talk about that tear-jerker of a documentary regarding Farrah's cancer treatment. So much for the cover of People, Farrah.

Speaking of dead Michael, I've had lots of people ask me what I think about the King of Pop, his death, his life, his whatever. What I have to say is this:

Beware, Madonna!

I figure the biggest superstars of the 20th century are dead. Worse, all these stars with personal doctors on duty are dead. Elvis is dead. Marilyn Monroe is dead. Anna Nicole Smith is dead. Michael Jackson is dead. If I'm Madonna, I'm gonna be peeing in my pants and I am certainly NOT going to have a personal doctor on staff.

Madonna, get your heart checked and give up any pain pills you are thinking about taking.
Alive and in pain seems a better option than dead. We've got to keep you alive. There's no one left of your caliber!

There weren't bigger stars than Michael Jackson and Madonna in the 1980s. They were the darlings of M-TV. Although the network might argue otherwise, these two superstars are the reason M-TV "worked" and stuck around. I mean, MJ's "Thriller" video in 1984 changed the world forever. I'm serious! I can tell you where I was when the video debuted. It was AMAZINGLY wonderful. Engrossing. Creative. Fresh. Fun! Madonna spent five million dollars on her "Express Yourself" video--giant bucks back in the day. Wacko Jacko and Madge changed the way people thought about--and then made--music videos. (Had Elvis been alive, he would have been a natural for M-TV, fatty patty or not.)

As for my thoughts specifically about Michael: I can't help but smile whenever I hear the song "Don't stop til you get enough" from the "Off the Wall" album. I am immediately transported back to the days of Rollerskating with TV Magpies and Laura Bob. Saturday nights at "The Axle," were filled with good, clean fun (well, fun unless you fell on your ass and everyone rolled over you), the Commodores and Michael Jackson.

You know, almost any song from "Off the Wall" gets my smile going.

I am a big fan of MJ's music and of his videos. "Thriller," the biggest selling album of all time (with good reason), was genius and I can assure you my copy is in bad shape from all the use it got. I took my clothes off at a party with "Bad" playing in the background. (Don't ask--it was to prove a point. I made $37 doing it, so it wasn't entirely a loss.) I can still clearly envision the video with Lisa Marie Presley. Be honest--who can't picture his crotch grabbing, one-gloved hand, that red jacket, moon-walking? Don't even tell me you didn't try to moon-walk if you are my age. Of all his hits, I can only think of one that I didn't care for (Ebony and Ivory--ugh)--that's a pretty good track record. He crossed all boundaries and that made him even bigger.

I shall not speak of him setting his hair on fire while filming a Pepsi commercial.

Unfortunately, music and videos were not all there was to this mega-star. Haunted by allegations, plastered on the cover of tabloids, plagued by debt, he was quite the enigma. Did he want to look the way he did? Was it calculated? Was it part of continually reinventing himself, like Madonna is always doing? Or, was it body dysmorphia? Surgery gone bad? A skin disorder? A host of medical conditions? A combination of it all? What's with the monkey, dangling your kid over the balcony, wearing pajamas to court, sleeping with kids? Was it truly innocence? Mental illness? Disgusting pedophilia? Result of devastating abuse? Part of a master plan to stay in the news?

I have no idea.

If I could find a video clip of Nancy Grace saying, "Molester, molester, molester!" I would post it here, because (1) it was hilarious; and, (2) it's part of Wacko Jacko's history. I wish I could say I only remember him for his music, but I can't. (It's kind of like how I can't erase "Shanghai Surprise" from my Madonna vault, only on a much, much grander scale.)

I beg Madonna: beware! Life is short and you're the last true mega-star we've got. If you ever get the urge to take pain pills, abuse pills, hire a doctor to make sure you are well-stocked with pills, just remember.....

.....the Most Successful Entertainer Ever (as deemed by the Guinness Book of World Records) turned out to be one messed up, dead Peter Pan.

If you need some pointers, I know a dog that can help you....
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Saturday, June 27, 2009

Ode to a Lemon Cake Those of you who were hoping for a Michael Jackson-themed blog entry will have to wait. I'm too enamored with this cake to write about the King of Pop, no offense to him. Godspeed to him and Farrah. 

Anyone who has known me for more than 20 minutes knows that I am a raging chocolaholic. Raging! I'm one of those people who gladly puts M&Ms on a slice of pizza (you don't??), includes chocolate with breakfast every day (breakfast of champions), bypasses a "real" meal to leave more for chocolate-infused anything (life is short). So, the following ode may seem rather strange--misplaced or misguided, even. I assure you chocolate is still number one on the list....but, somehow this cake has got me thinking about little bites of tangy lemon heaven. 
It all started many moons ago when we were at Phlange-a-slam & Little Debbie Sneezeclumper's house for dinner. P-A-S is a very creative creature in the kitchen, always trying out new recipes. For this event, she made this incredible lemon cake, complete with blueberry sauce. She found the recipe in a cooking magazine. (I didn't know people actually made the things in recipes; I thought they just looked at the photos and thought, "wow, that looks tasty.") Although the lemon cake was bright and yellow and inviting, I can't say I thought I'd like it much, as it had no chocolate involved in any of the processes. I kept an open mind, popped a piece in my mouth.... 
....and decided that this was the BEST piece of cake I had ever consumed in my life. Ever. Yes, yes--even better than Portillo's Chocolate cake and you know I think that's orgasmic. Of course, comparing a lemon cake to a rich, dark, gooey chocolate cake isn't really a fair comparison--it's like comparing apples to.....lemons. 
It was so good that I announced I would like this cake for my birthday. I then continued to eat morsel after delicious morsel, immediately forgetting that I ever spoke aloud about the birthday cake. Fast forward a few months to my day of birth. Not the actual day I was brought into the world--that would be fast reversing. I mean from the P-A-S dinner to my current birthday which was last week (so you going forward but then kinda backward because this is now last week.) I hadn't thought much about my birthday and wasn't expecting anything. (really. I am a simple girl.) I certainly didn't think about a lemon cornmeal cake. Imagine my surprise when I returned home after a long, stinky, sticky, hot day of work and rallying and found that the wife had made me the "Lemon Cornmeal Cake with Lemon Glaze and Crushed Blueberry Sauce" (from Bon Appetit, for those of you who are wondering). I was stunned. Overjoyed. Excited! 
I love that cake. I love it so much that I want to weep when I eat it. It's not a cake everyone will like. It's not a cake I'd associate with me in any capacity. But, I love it. I love it so much I am going to write an ode to it. 
The only thing the wife had difficulty with (besides turning on the oven when it literally was 100 degrees outside and the cake sticking to the pan) was the blueberry sauce. I won't go into details but I did admit that her sauce wasn't exactly like P-A-S's sauce. (No sense in lying about it--it wasn't the same.) It was still very good, just different in a way we couldn't identify. Not that I'm complaining. The story of what actually happened has turned out to be quite funny in itself, but I shall spare the wife and leave it at you can't buy the crushed blueberry sauce in a can. She also mentioned the fact that she had to go buy all the ingredients, as this cake is made from scratch, but that didn't seem as traumatic as the blueberry sauce creation. 
And now, I present to you....Ode to a Lemon Cake. Thank you, dear wife, for remembering my comment of how I wanted this cake for my birthday. Thank you for taking the time to make it. Thank you, Phlange-a-slam, for bringing this delicacy into my life. Thank you, Bon Appetit for publishing this gem. Thank you, Abigail-the-recipe-creator, for being born. I dedicate this ode to all of you. Yum! 

Bright little ball of sunshine beaming from the plate tangy yet sweet glaze glimmering, inviting sifted powdered sugar and lemon juice simple beauty, simple elegance. How can something so sour be so sweet? Rays of sunshine Bites of heaven Morsels of love My lips pucker with the first sour but sweet bite. the tanginess whets my appetite for more I shut my eyes to enjoy every golden mouthful. Cornmeal texture buttermilk delight Lemon peels oozing zest I am in love with you, Lemon Cornmeal Cake! Bright yellow swims in a sea of blue berries bobble on the surface sauce slo-o-o-owly dripping sauce slowly seeping in sauce bringing just the right balance of color, of taste, of texture, of love. Called a rustic cake with zing from lemon glaze I know you will make a great companion to breakfast, lunch or dinner I picture you next to ice cream I picture you in my bowl of cereal I picture you with whipped cream... who dares not love you? Lemon Cornmeal Cake such an earthly delight I still love you, beans of cocoa but, for this moment in time for this moment of sunshine for this glorious mouth-watering moment lemon outshines the wrapper of a Dove Dark chocolate square and I cheat on you. I feel no guilt, no remorse. Bright little ball of sunshine beaming from the plate tangy yet sweet simple beauty, simple elegance. How can something so sour be so sweet? ******************************************************************

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Royal Flush

I am sitting at my desk, face and arms on fire with a hot pink look. My face and ears feel like they are on fire. Why? Because I took a bit more Niacin this morning and one of the side effects is what is known as the "Niacin Flush." I thought that was a crock of poop but I'm here to tell you that I am flushing like there is no tomorrow! Strangely, it's the inside of my arms that are pink, not the whole arm. It looks crazy. I don't know how long it will last and will probably google this issue. I know some of you are asking, "Why are you taking Niacin?" And, I would tell you, "I'm trying to lower my cholesterol and improve my heart health." I heard Niacin would help in that department. I've been taking it for months but took more this A.M. Guess I'll go back to my previous dose.

While sitting here looking like a burnt tourist, I have noticed I have a millipede problem. There goes one on my wall right now. They are all over the floor and on my recycling bag. Ugh. Must be all the rain we got going on. They are slow moving and only an inch or so in length. Maybe they're the babies. Hope mama stays far away, as they crunch when you kill them and I don't wanna be crunch anything bigger than I am already crunching. They are the same color as my office furniture, so I am a little nervous I am going to have one on my butt and not know it.

As long as they are not centipedes, I am all good with it. One centipede and I'm need therapy.

Yesterday was the hottest day that we've had so far this year--heat index 105 degrees. Steamy! So, being the brain surgeon that I am, I thought going for a walk with MJagger at the hottest time of the day and then mow the lawn by hand would be an awesome idea. (Yes, the riding lawn mower is still broken. I figure mowing by hand is the least I can do until it's fixed. I also figured since I was already sweaty and delirious from our walk that I might as well keep moving and keep sweating.) I love to sweat. It's so cathartic! Um, walking in that heat was a little bit too much sweating for even me. I think at one point I was unable to put a coherent sentence together. I am proud to report I stayed hydrated and drank a liter of "Smart" water on the way home from the walk and am even prouder to say that neither MJagger or I passed out. It seemed almost cool by the time I was mowing, and besides, the mowing was in the shade so it wasn't half as "fun" as that walk was.

Today, I am a prime number. I'll leave it up to you to figure out which prime number I am. I am a very grateful person and give much thanks on this day. I have so much good in my life. Well, besides this flush thing. I'm not so grateful about being pink but remain thankful that my cholesterol might be plummeting. I'm thankful to be swimming in millipedes, not centipedes. I'm thankful for you, dearest blog readers, friends, family, dogs, employers (if I did speak of having a job, that is), person that made my Dunkin' Donuts coffee this morning. It's gonna be a great day. Kiss kiss!

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As always, remember: "If you want it, you already got it; If you thought it, It better be what you want." (Madonna, "4 Minutes")
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Monday, June 22, 2009

Jon less Kate Plus Eight? (Or, Just Kate Plus Eight?)

Here is a photo montage of activities around the Addiverse over the past few days--from Ellen to the Mold Mobile hitting 144,444 miles--it's been a good few weeks. Is life good or what?

Freckles got her stitches out this morning. No trauma--or vet bill--was involved. The tech swooped in, grabbed her, brought her back. Literally only seconds passed during the ordeal. The paw looks awesome and appears to have healed swimmingly. I wanted to remove the stitches myself but in the long run, sanity prevailed and Freckles was spared.

Right now, we are sitting around the boob tube, staring mindlessly (as is half the world population) at Jon and Kate and their eight. The wife's sister is here, so it's the three of us making all sorts of observations and judgments. We have many feelings and thoughts about the show and about the premise of said show. I figure this family has enough stress, trauma and press, so I'll keep those thoughts to our living room. I mean, the Paparazzi don't hang out in front of my house when I'm yelling at the dogs, so who am I to judge? Although we were pretty sure the "big announcement" advertised for this episode was going to be divorce, the wife was hoping it's that Kate is pregnant! Well, we can all dream.

Reality TV: Entertainment or not, it's a train wreck from what we cannot turn. It's always a train wreck. We're sitting around watching a family get destroyed by television and by our lust to be voyeurs. As consumers, we are molding these kids' futures--for better or worse. Whether they turn out as spoiled brats, brain surgeons or little puddles of mental illness, we have a part in this. We support the show by watching the show--we support the television station and all the sponsors. We are the reason the show is still broadcast. Perhaps Jon and Kate should send us the therapy bill.

Kids on TV--I have two words for you: Danny Bonaduce.

I'd say more but Jon just announced that he and Kate are separating......followed by the announcement that they filed for divorce as of June 22, 2009 (um, that's today). Jon less Kate? Jon left Kate? Jon hates Kate? However you slice it, it's still eight little lives swimming through the muck, surrounded by all of our opinions....and, our ratings. As long as we keep watching, the show will go on.... the ratings will keep it afloat. Greed & fame does weird things to normal people.

Is it really all for the kids? At this point, does that even matter?

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On a much happier note, I see that "L.A. Ink" is returning this season! Let's all go out and get some tattoos.......

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Bigger, Wider, Longer Ellen

How can you have a bad day when you've danced with Ellen?

You can't!

I was in a foul mood yesterday, everything basically going wrong. I spilled my iced coffee in my lap (thankfully, I was in the "Mold Mobile," so 16 ounces of cold coffee all over the seats didn't matter...well, as far as the car was concerned--my pants and undies were a different story). My computer was on its own mission and was one jumbo frustrating mess. I had only gotten a few hours of sleep. The wife was NOT in the least bit entertained about the lawn mower. You name it, it was going wrong. I was a big crabby patty.

Thankfully, we had tickets to Ellen's "Bigger, Wider and Longer" comedy show last night and THAT was the end of a bad day!

I am here to tell you that Ellen DeGeneres oozes happiness.

Ooooozes!

It is impossible not to be happy when you are in the presence of Ms. DeGeneres. I'm still happy today. That's a lot of happiness power from one person. Talk about getting your money's worth!!! The wife has loved her since Ellen's early stand-up days. Gotta say the wife got it right, as this lady is funny. I am so glad we got to go to this show (big props to ChiSky Grrrl for getting the tickets).

The show wasn't exactly what Cheeseball Neighbor, ChiSky Grrrl, the wife or I were expecting. We were expecting Ellen to do a stand-up comedy. Had we done our homework, we would have figured out that this was going to be something else. It was a taping (filming) for an TBS variety show special as part of the "Just for Laughs" festival; thus, there were many guests, with Ellen hosting the event. The show will be broadcast sometime next week. How awesome is that? I can't say I was too sad about the format, as Nick Cannon served as the D.J. before, during and after the show (drumline!!); Kayne West performed two songs (how great is that?); and, David Blaine--my favorite magician of all time--was featured in a video clip from earlier in the day.

Here are two photos from Jason Kempin, as featured on justforlaughschicago.com. Jason, I know I don't have permission to use your photos, but come on--they are awesome photos and how often can you say some po-dunk blogger is sharing your work with hundreds of thousands (okay--three) people???

Back to Ellen. I had no idea--she's teeny! And, how cute is she? Cute squared! At one point, she was literally five rows from us--we got a close up of the what-I-call-an-elfish comedian, which was absolutely awesome. We didn't get near any free prizes and we certainly weren't near the stage but we were quite near to Ellen for approximately one minute of our lives. I am all good with that.

Cute, happy, bubbly, GLOWING!! She glows, for pete's sake. I smile just thinking about her.

The show itself was quite entertaining, albeit bizarre: a man swallowed a wife coat hanger and then his fiance WHACKED him on the back of the head with a toaster (don't ask); a contortionist shot an arrow, holding the bow with her feet (really don't ask); a comedian from China had the whole place laughing (can't wait to go out and pear-wa-will park). I can't wait to see how this all looks on television.

The questions from the crowd were kind of lame but did produce a Portia sighting--Ms. De Rossi came out on stage and waved hello to the crowd when someone asked where she was. Portia is even teenier and skinnier than Ellen. Bitches!

I'll let you know when the show will air. Until then, I am going to keep on smiling. After all, I've been bigger, longer and wider with Ellen!

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Monday, June 15, 2009

Blade Runner

(Perhaps I should call it Blades of Glory?)

I do not know how these things happen to me, but they do. And, they ALWAYS happen when the wife is out of town. I swear these reports are true. (Who the hell would make up this crap?)

I've tried to be a good bachelor-ette and have kept myself busy doing things like laundry, weeding, vacuuming, washing the floor by hand, etc. Since it was going so swimmingly, I thought I'd kick it up a notch--I'd mow the lawn!

To illustrate how often I mow the lawn, I offer you this: the neighbor was driving by, literally stopped her car and yelled out her window, "the world is ending!" Smart ass.

Mowing the lawn is not simple in the Addiverse. (1) There are rules to mowing the lawn--like, no cute designs in the grass. I can live with the rules. (I didn't say I'd follow them but I can live with them.) The wife has it down to a science; she can get that lawn mowed in 1.5 hours. That's because she follows the rules and has patterns strategically designed for optimal mowing capacity. Me? I make circles around the trees and meander across the tundra in no semblance of order. This means it takes me much longer to mow the same lawn. Since the wife was out of town, I thought bending the rules might be okay. It's traumatic, though--I can only be so creative before I've pushed the envelope too far. Balance. Aim for balance, I tell myself...

(2) There are two mowers--one push, one riding. I'm not well-versed in gassing them up, starting them, running them, lowering/raising the blade to the correct level, using them in general, cleaning them (don't YOU clean your lawn mower once you are done?), putting them away. (They are placed in the garage in a very specific manner from which I shall not deviate.) Since there are two of them, I am twice as illiterate as I would be if there were only one machine to operate.

(3) There are all sorts of gas cans in the garage--one for the snow blower, one for the weed whacker, one for the lawn mower, etc. It's hard to see in the dark garage what the cans say when still blinded by the sun. I have no idea what gas goes in what machine...as I ran out of gas during today's mowing, I could only hope that the cans are labeled correctly.

(4) There is no doubt that mowing the lawn while the wife is out of state is a bad idea. This traumatizes me just thinking about it, but I thought it would be a wonderful "gift" if I mowed the lawn for her--imagine her surprise when driving up to the house and the lawn is done.

Yeah, I'm giving her a surprise.

It only took one Master's Degree and 15 minutes to figure out how to get the riding lawn mower out of the garage and started. I was pretty dang proud of myself. I was getting ready to zip around the yard when I realize: "hey, I have to use the push mower FIRST and do the perimeter of the yard." I turn off the riding lawn mower, go get the other mower, prime the push mower, use every ounce of strength I have (and that ain't much) and get that pup going. I scalped the yard in a few places but that went better than I anticipated. As I was feeling a bit creative, I decided to go diagonally in making mowing patterns, so I push-mowed a bit more than the wife probably does. I thought things looked pretty spiffy and was glad that no appendages were removed during the first leg of the lawn mowing activities.

Then, it was back to the riding lawn mower. I fire her up and away I go. At first, things are fine. I had the blade too low and noticed there were lots of "grass lumps" and was quick to realize that was bad--the wife does NOT like grass clumps. I pull over, stop the blade, raise it up a notch, lower the blade and get back to mowing. I'm enjoying the beautiful day, smiling in the sun, blades of glory chomping through the lawn, riding back and forth across the backyard....and.....I notice....

"hey, that doesn't look like I mowed there," even tho I had just mowed there.

I made another pass and turned around--hmmm--I mowed but the lawn wasn't mowed. I thought maybe I had forgotten to lower the blade so I checked that. No--I have it in in the proper position. Still, no blade cutting anything. I stop and start the mower, then engage the blade. Nothing. Perplexed, I have no answer. I am certainly NOT going to look under anything and I'm not sticking my hands anywhere (I learned my lesson, Master Reiki). I realize there is only one thing I can do: ride the riding lawn mower to the driveway and push-mow the entire yard. It's not like I can stop now that I've started.

I am hear to tell you that I earned those chocolate chip cookies and strawberry smoothie. In fact, I earned the cookies, smoothie, Ghiradelli chocolate and McDonald's iced coffee I found necessary after surviving the mowing of the lawn.

Of course, I ran out of gas. And, of course, I ran out of gas from the further point from the house. I drag my sorry ass to the garage, squint at the various gas cans, consider my options, pray to the God of Gasoline that I pick the correct can, drag the gas can out to the yard, fill up the mower, manage to spill gas on myself, drag the can back to the garage and start all over.

Although I like exercise and I like being outside and I like doing things like mowing the lawn, I did not exactly enjoy "hand" mowing the entire lawn. I'm too old and it's too big. Yet, I persevered. I could not give up or in. What seemed like three days later, I was done.

Done mowing. Not done with the entire ordeal. (Was this lawn mowing business my idea? What was I thinking? Do I have an undiagnosed case of Pig Flu warping my brain? What the hell am I gonna do about all those grass clumps?)

At this point, I realize I have to put the mowers away. I am kind of afraid to put the riding lawn mower away as there is obviously something wrong with it and I don't want to burn the house down due to a bad lawn mower issue. I decide to leave it parked in the shade for a few hours and then roll it in. I put the push mower away and go forth to find chocolate, smoothie and cookies. I also indulged myself in an episode of Xena Warrior Princess.

I go back outside and now have to maneuver the riding lawn mower into this small, specifically-designated space. It's kind of like parallel parking, only with no power and without mirrors. I'm here to tell you it took me seven swings to get the thing in there, and even then, I didn't do it correctly. Unfortunately, I got it wedged into the spot and couldn't move it. I needed an eighth swing but had no way of doing it without assistance.

You bet your bippy I left that thing right where it was. I heard an iced coffee calling my name.

I'm not sure what the wife will think when she gets home and sees that the lawn is manicured. I'm not sure what the wife will think when she sees the riding lawn mower mushed into the corner. I'm certainly not sure what the wife will think when she hears the riding lawn mower is broken. I'm hoping it's not broken and that it's just that I'm a moron and was doing something wrong....I'm skeptical about that but I can think it......

I'm pretty sure the wife will see a lot of pushing mowing in my future, especially if the problem turns out to be expensive.

Here I've been avoiding the counter tops and I should have been avoiding the lawn. Who knew? I think I shall step away from all facets of household-type duties for the reminder of the wife's tour of the Cheddarlands. Xena and chocolate. Xena and coffee. Xena and ice cream. Sounds like a winning plan to me....
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Saturday, June 13, 2009

Operation Housewife: Second Verse, Same as the First

For those of you not familiar with "Operations Housewife," please check out the blogs in December 2008, such as http://addiwp.blogspot.com/2008/12/operation-housewife-sick-of-hearing.html

Second verse, same as the first....set of baby birds: FYI from the Addiverse: The bird by the front door spruced up her nest and a second set of baby birds are already peeking out from their humble abode. I had no idea birds did that--return to the same nest to lay more than one set of eggs in a season. Is this a great country or what? Mama bird has already swooped at my head several times. Scares the bird poop right out of me every time she does that. http://addiwp.blogspot.com/2009/05/inaugural-flight-every-year-local-wren.html

Second Second Verse: This verse of "Operation Housewife" is not technically the second verse, as it is not nearly as intense as the first verse. The wife is not incapacitated and thus the expectations are much lower. A visit to the family is not traumatic in any capacity when compared to the wife lying in a bed after the loss of a jumbo, favre-o-roid infested uterus. (BTW, don't think I'm getting away with anything. The wife is spying on me via Book de la Face, using her sister's FB account. How naughty is that?) It's much easier to complete Operation Housewife when faced with nothing but a few days of bachelorette-hood....

Here is a photo montage of what is going on this weekend:

(1) The stitches.
This morning, I took the bandage off Freckles' leg so the wound could get some fresh air. I'm now thinking this might have been a bad idea, as she won't stop licking it. I've warned her repeatedly that a cone is in her future if she doesn't stop it. In an effort to help her, I went out this morning and purchased first aid supplies. If the licking doesn't stop, I'll play Girl Scout and wrap her back up. If that doesn't work, a cone may need to be employed. Don't think the Crabby Patty is gonna like that one bit but one must do what one must do. The stitches look mighty gnarly and there are more of them than I had envisioned. I am not sure how they de-claw a cat or how it looks when it's done, but if it looks like this, I'm thinking it sucks to be a cat.

(2) The counter tops. Thankfully, I have yet to scratch/mar/burn/soil the new counter tops. Knock on Meganite! That is probably because I still haven't gone near them. Using the sink is traumatic enough. I went out and bought coffee this A.M. because I don't want to deal with the fear of staining the white Corian sink. I have no idea how to really clean it beyond not using it. For those of you wondering what the hell Meganite is, it's anti-bacterial, durable, acrylic blob of stain-resistant material, a direct descendant of Corian. (Somehow, the sink is Corian and the counters are Meganite. Go figure. Doesn't matter to me--I'm not going near any of it.)

Side note: Shout out to MJagger and her ongoing kitchen remodeling. Your project motivated the wife to get these stinkin' counter tops. Keep the faith...but not the color of paint we originally picked out, eh?!!

(3) Cheese ball Neighbor's Dog. I am dog-sitting for Cheeseball neighbor. Those are supposed to look like cheese balls in the photo above. Hey, I tried--this is a budget production. Dog sitting is an easy enough job, as Cheeseball Neighbor's dog is terrified of our dogs and thus is quite meek and mild during our outings. She basically pees, poos, eats and hides. (Side note to Robbers and would-be thieves: don't even think about it. You stay away from Cheese ball neighbor. I am ALL over it!) We're gonna have a dog-fest tonight. I imagine lots of treats, television-watching and napping. Woo woo! (No cheese balls, tho.) Bet the wife's really jealous about missing that.

For those of you who can't remember why we refer to Cheeseball neighbor as such, finish this blog entry and then go tohttp://addiwp.blogspot.com/2007/01/great-cheese-ball-invasion-of-2007-for.html Don't go there now--you keep on reading!

(4) The garden. I had planned on weeding for hours and hours today, but it's raining cats and dogs, so I am stuck inside. The weeds will have to wait. The gardens are looking quite beautiful. Everything is so colorful and alive. Unfortunately, all this rain has given the weeds plenty of fuel to grow big and strong. I'm gonna be out there a lonnnnng time once it dries up a bit.

Beyond that, I plan on vacuuming, washing a load of laundry, re-organizing the lazy Susan (what kind of name is that, anyways?), cleaning the water out of the Mold Mobile, yelling repeatedly at Freckles to stop licking her wound, watching a few Xena episodes (hey, it can't be all work), giving Lucy a bath (she threw up and reeks of vomit) and avoiding the counter tops. Yum!
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P.S. Chastity Bono is having a sex change operation. Who knew? That has nothing to do with this blog entry. I just wanted to say something in regards to that. So, I did. That is going to be one tough road, with the media being what it is, so I wanted to give her a shout out for good luck.

P.P.S. I have had a lot of requests about the new tattoo. It was tough to take a photo of it that looked halfway decent. It looked significantly distorted every time I tried to take the photo...and, when I finally did get a semi-decent shot, the image was backwards! That hurt my art major brain--take a photo with my camera phone and it shows up backwards. Huh? Come to think of it, the photo of me driving in my car (back a few blogs ago) is backwards, too. Oh well--I figured out a way to flip the photo. Even tho the photo looks like poo & distorts the tat, I've included it here. We'll see who can figure out what part of my body this tattoo is located, as I'm not telling. I know the wife would want me to write about why I have the word "gratitude" permanently inked into my skin, but I will save that for another day. Suffice it to say I am one grateful bitch.

P.P.P.S. There is a giant tattoo convention in Chicago next week. Anyone up for a road trip?

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Thursday, June 11, 2009

I See London, I see France....

...I don't see her underpants!

Before I get to the point of Freckles Warrior Princess' successful surgery, the wife's time away from home and the terror I feel when going near the new counter tops, I'd like to say a few words about Keith Monet's missing under pants.

The wife's dear, dear friend is in Paris, traveling solo while the Bichon Boyz remain safely at home. Turns out Keith Monet may have gone to France but her undies (and luggage) went somewhere else. As she put it in a recent email, the airline is saving her luggage somewhere and has not yet decided to give it to her. Being in Paris without fresh undies--sounds stressful to me. I'm sure she'll have some awesome stories upon return. Perhaps her luggage will get home before she will....

Freckles had her surgery on Monday. The dew claw was successfully removed (well, I think it was--she's wearing a little cast so I can't see what really happened in there) and she appears no worse for the wear. The photo above was taken when I picked her up from the vet. Here I was all worried about her....and, she jumps up onto her "car perch" without even thinking about it. Notice how she is posing with her little cast. What a drama queen. When I called the vet to see how surgery had went, the tech assured me the Warrior Princess was resting comfortably and was "pointing" at everyone with her paw. This made me laugh, as that's exactly what she did last time she had a cast and I knew exactly what the vet tech meant. Freckles sticks her whole leg out, raised straight in front of her, pointing as if to accuse YOU of this tragic issue. "YOU did this to me!"

I'm glad to report FWP is doing just fine, although she can't go for a walk just yet. This is very confusing to Lucy, who keeps looking around for Freckles when we are walking; in fact, at one point yesterday, Lucy sat down and refused to move. I couldn't figure out what was wrong until I noticed she kept looking over her shoulder, as if to look back down the sidewalk. It was then I realized: she was waiting for her sister! Lucy must have figured the ol' Fatty Patty (who ALWAYS lags way behind on walks) must have been a little slower than usual. It took a lot of prodding to get her to walk home without her sister surfacing around the corner.

The wife is on the first leg of her annual "tour of Wisconsin." This means the dogs and I are on our own. Usually, I would find this to be a good thing....however, this time I am living in sheer terror. Why?

Because the wife got new kitchen counter tops less than 24 hours before she left.

I don't know about you, but I know nothing about kitchen counter tops beyond how much the wife loves them and how she will kill me if I do anything stupid to them. She tried to prep me via a crash course before leaving but there's only so much you can learn in a few adult-deficit-ed disordered moments. I know not to put anything hot on the new surfaces. I know not to cut things directly on the counter top. I know that leaving coffee in the sink is a very bad thing and may stain the new sinks. Beyond that.....

....I know if I scratch/mar/stain/burn that new counter top while the wife is traveling the Cheddar lands, I'll personally be looking for Keith Monet's underwear in France.
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Saturday, June 06, 2009

Follow that Plane....

Ah, the week-long commute has come to an end. I learned a lot of things along the way....almost twenty hours of my life was wasted in one week--that deserves a blog. How DO you commuters do it??? Millions of you do it every work day. I basically "lost" about four hours a day traveling to/from Chicago this week. Commuters: your lives are wasting away--just say no!!! Bring a sleeping bag to work!

Here is what it looked like during the commutes. The important part of the picture is not me but rather the mold and staples in the background. I drove the "Mold Mobile" for a few of the commutes. If you aren't familiar with the "Mold Mobile," suffice it to say that our Saturn has more mold it in than a giant vat of bleu cheese, that you have to leave the window open for safety purposes (fresh air) and, if it were to rain during a commute, there would be more water inside the car that outside. (The obligatory pen is pointed out for MJagger's entertainment.)

For those of you thinking that I look mighty casual for someone going to formal employment-related training, you are right--my mission is always to be the most under-dressed in the room....and, I was quite successful in that endeavor. I am proud to report that I brought the level of attire "down;" by the end of the week, everyone was wearing jeans & t-shirts. Score one for moi!

I learned a lot during the week of commuting:

1. Do NOT rely on a cheap Wally World compass that has been in your glove compartment for a billion years. Okay, okay--most of you aren't going to use a compass during a commute. Um, none of you are going to use a compass while driving home from Chicago. I like to be creative; besides, I didn't have a map. (I used it as part of an art project awhile ago. Doesn't everyone?) I decided that the expressway looked horribly not-so-express-like, so I jumped on an unknown side street and started heading west. As I drove, I kept thinking: "I feel like I'm going north, not west," so I pulled out the compass--which immediately indicated I was going east. As I knew I was decidedly not going east in any capacity, this was of no help. I shook it a few times, spun it around in all directions, shook it again. As I was 99.99999% sure I was going northwest, I threw the compass on the floor and kept going, using a different method of determining direction....

2. Follow that Airplane! Being familiar with the landing pattern at O'Hare was extremely helpful, as all I had to do was look to the sky to point my way west. Seriously. I knew that the planes where heading toward the runway that runs parallel to the tollway of which I was trying to reach. As I was heading in the same direction as the landing planes (the ones with their landing gear down--another sign I was approaching O'Hare), I knew I would find the toll road. It worked swimmingly.

3. If the license plate indicated "Wisconsin," the driver was most decidedly in the LEFT lane, holding up traffic. This is no new news to Illinois drivers but since it is so frustrating, I thought I'd mention it once again. CHEESE HEADS--MOVE OVER!!! It's a passing lane, not a meandering lane. (While you are at it, stop riding your brakes!)

4. Automatic transmissions come in real handy during traffic jams. I may love my stick-shift Honda but it sure sucks in stop and go (more stop than go) traffic. (Hence I drove the automatic-transmissioned Mold Mobile.

5. Hybrids make total sense in traffic jams. Total. Of course, no one was driving hybrids around me but they make sense. (Bill boards also started to make sense. I actually read them while sitting there. Gentlemen's Club, Fibroid Surgery, Tattoo Expo, Radio Morning shows--I know all about them now.)

6. Multi-tasking while driving now seems reasonable (albeit dangerous) to me. I saw people reading the paper, putting on make-up, texting, eating breakfast, talking on the phone, writing things, even shaving while they were commuting. You have to do something while sitting in traffic not moving. Thankfully, I spent a lot of time under the landing pattern at O'Hare, so it gave me something to look at....and, I only texted while stopped in traffic, not while moving. Kind of.

7. I had an urge to pick my nose. Really. What is it about driving a car that would make people think to pick their nose?

8. No one goes the speed limit. It's either 20 miles an hour over the speed limit or 5 miles an hour under. Those going 5 under were the left-laned Wisconsinites. The ones going 20 mph over were the ones shaving, reading the paper & texting while driving. (Side note: Cruise Control was rendered useless, so it didn't matter that the Mold Mobile's Cruise Control is broken. Just about the time you set it, you have to SLAM on your brakes as the traffic has come to a mysterious stand-still.)

9. There is no timing the commute, at least as far as I could figure. What took me over two hours on Monday took me one hour, twenty five minutes on Thursday. I have no idea how people figure out what time they need to leave for work, as the actual commute could vary by huge increments of time.

10. It's a dog life. For the dogs, not me. Here's the photo the wife texted me while I was sitting in traffic. Lounging in the sun vs. sucking carbon monoxide, mold & airplane fumes. Thankfully, I'll have lots of time to lounge with the dogs now that I'm done commuting.

May I tell you how grateful I am for my six mile, 13 minute drive to work? Indeed.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Business Trippin'

As previously mentioned, I am swimming my way through a week's worth of business training. For this particular night, I have chosen to skip the commute and stay in a hotel. I picked the hotel via (1) the Internet; and, (2) personal knowledge of the area. The hotel is located within my childhood stomping grounds, so I figured it'd be an okay adventure. I must say that if you like the color puke mustard gold, you'd love this room. If you love the landing pattern of O'Hare (and, I do), you'd find this room to be is orgasmic. It's not exactly like the hotel in Mexi-louis. It's a two-star business hotel, meaning: don't walk on the carpeting without your shoes on and don't sit on the bed spread. Here's the view out the window.


The wife professed concern for my safety.
I assured her the only danger I was in was related to eating myself into a food coma. When in training or on the road, I find the most appropriate way to cope is by eating copious amounts (okay, obscene amounts) of food. Right now, I have a horrific stomach ache. Might be due to all the crap I consumed.....or, it might be related to the volume of hot peppers I ate during dinner. Or, maybe it's because I've had three different coffee products today. Hard to tell.

Whatever the reason, I'd pay good money for some Tums right now. Ooof.

I've been to Dunkin' Donuts, Starbucks, Subway and Mc Donalds today. This does not include the pizza I ate during lunch. There is something very wrong with visiting FOUR fast food places in one day, especially when none of the four trips were for the major meal of the day. I also went to Whole Foods for a latte and some cookies, so that makes FIVE places plus a pizza. See why the wife should fear for my safety? Food. Coma. Extraordinaire. (I am in such a food coma that I'm using actual names of places. I'm too miserable to be creative with franchise names.)

H
ere I am in front of my place of dinner dessert:


I've made a new little Russian friend--a perky thing who really doesn't understand what is going on in this training. She kept saying, "you vant peee-zza, no?" Russian grrrl was very insistent--she REALLY, REALLY wanted pizza and she wanted her training mates to join her. I was entertained by her and since she reminded me of Yulia, a Russian classmate at NIU during my master's degrees days, I agreed to join the pizza brigade. I had a generous serving of Chicago-greasy-pizza for lunch--I had to eat more than anticipated because one of the four people going in on the pizza backed out once he found out there was meat on half the pizza. I assured him there was no meat on "our" side of the pizza but this was very traumatic for him and he literally ran out of the room. He takes his vegetarianism VERY serious, I'm thinking.

Tomorrow, I'll go back to healthier ways and will eat something like this (see photo) instead of some greasy pizza product. This is a photo of the Whole Foods salad I made myself on Monday. I love Whole Foods. I could live there. I could eat there every day of my life. If only there was one close to our house. If only there was one within 50 miles of our house. Even if Russian grrrrrl begs me to do otherwise, I am going to Whole Foods and I am going to enjoy a beautiful salad.

That and some Whole Foods cookies......

.....Well, and some Dunkin' Donuts coffee.....




........Did I mention the ice cream I'll have on the way home?


Monday, June 01, 2009

You're a Real Peach

I'll be commuting back and forth to Chicago this week, so I'll either be (a) in a car; (b) in a classroom, learning how to do my job; or, (c) sleeping. I'm not sure about the commuting part, but I'm all good with exercising my brain cells every now and then. (Well, I will be eating, too-- but, it will be while I'm in the car or in training. I don't think I'll be eating while sleeping, though.)

Hear that Rumble? No, it's not my intestines--it's the Thunder! The Rockford Thunder women's professional softball team is back on the field. You KNOW how much I love the Thunder. Yum!

(BTW, we profess our love to Coach of the Year Cheese ball Neighbor, who is on her way to softball glory--congrats and good luck with Thursday's game!)

We try to go to Thunder games whenever we get the chance, as it's great fun and it's always a plus to support women's sports (especially when such sports are in town). There is really no excuse--the field is right up the street from us, much closer than their last home field (of which I cannot truly call a field but more like a pit) and it's cheap fun in the sun.

We went to our first Thunder game of the season yesterday
-- turns out it was an exhibition game between the Thunder and Chicago Bandits. (Perky Potholder grrrl, where were you? We looked for your Sky Blue Crocs...) Quite to our surprise, the Thunder team was sporting throwback uniforms--of the Rockford Peaches--dresses!!! How awesome is that? Everyone should play fast pitch softball in a dress at least once in her life, I suppose. (I apologize for the poor quality of the photos--I took them with a camera phone and was shooting through nets and fences.) I thought it was great fun.

Besides the dresses, another bonus: getting to see a whole slew of pitchers in one game. In true exhibition style, each team had their pitchers play an inning or two and then switch to a different pitcher. That means we got to see Jenny Finch and Cat Osterman take the mound. Double Yum! You should NEVER pass up the chance to see either of these two women pitch, as they are literally the two best pitchers in the world. The WORLD! It's a double yum squared when they are pitching against each other. Always say yes to Cat and Jenny. We also got to see Cassidy Scroggins (hope that's how you spell her name), my favorite non-Jenny/Cat pitcher, hurl a few.

Hurl a few pitches, I should say.

The wife and I were very surprised that we knew only a handful (and that's stretching it) of the Thunder players. Let's see--Amanda, Jamie, Cassidy, Cat......that's about it. What happened during the off season? Guess I should pay closer attention. I'm sure it will be fine and we'll figure the roster out in little time.

FYI, the wife and I both have Thunder jerseys to wear this year, so watch out! We look like true fans....although, our jerseys are from last year and our two players are long gone. That's okay, we still look good.

At least we didn't buy throwback dresses to wear in support of the Thunder. I'm not sure I'd wear those to any games.....

........although I do have the legs to pull it off.

heh heh!!
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