Once upon a time, I thought my family was complete. I had a Hunneypunkin, two sons, two daughters, multiple pets, a home to keep them all in, and what more could anyone ever want? Plus I had great hair thanks to my parents, Rapunzel and the Wookie. (Also I drove an Impala. Everybody wants an Impala whether they realize it or not.)
I had it all, and then a Treasure, an Angel Boy, and a Prince walked into my life. It wasn't so great a mystery that they walked into my life, but somehow they walked into my heart, and I never figured out how they did it.
It really wasn't even so great a mystery that they walked into my heart, because after all, everybody loves a Treasure, you already know I have a seriously soft spot for Angels, and who wouldn't want their own Prince? The mystery was how, once they walked into my heart, it got all tangled up in them.
I was supposed to be tough and cool. I was Jeremy Renner. Unbreachable. Invincible. There was no way I could possibly be vinced. How could I let my heart get tangled? But I did, and the best part is: I don't care. My tough and cool got breached by a Treasure, an Angel Boy, and a Prince, and I don't mind at all. In legality, I have four children, but in my tangled heart, I have seven.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Lice and a Tumor
It's not really that The Precious is a hypochondriac. If you ask him, he'll tell you.
You: "The Precious, are you a hypochondriac?"
The Precious: "I am not a hypochondriac. Wait, what's a hypochondriac? Can you die from it?"
No, he's not a hypochondriac at all, he's just ultra-conscious of his own homeostasis. And he bugs me about it endlessly.
"I had to scratch my head twice this morning, and it itched again just now. Do I have lice?" You have dry scalp. Use conditioner next time you wash your hair.
"I got a cut on my hand. Is it going to get infected?" Use Neosporin. Here's a Spiderman Band-aid.
"Do you see this spot on my arm? What is that? Do I have skin cancer?" I'm blogging right now, quit yammering towards me. It's dirt. Wash it off.
"I was outside when the crop duster flew over the field. Will I die from chemical poisoning?" Not immediately. Take a shower and change your clothes. And leave me alone for a minute, I'm concentrating my magic to pay $1984 worth of bills with $423.
"My stomach hurts. Do I have an ulcer?" No! Drink a glass of water and ease up on the Flamin Hot Cheetos.
"What exactly is an ulcer?" It's a, you know, stomach thing, that, like, hurts or whatever. Stop knocking on the door with stupid questions and let me pee all by myself! Google it! Look it up in one of my sciencey books!
"Look at this bump on my wrist. Is this a tumor?" And then you HAVE to answer in your Schwarzenegger voice but he doesn't get it because Kindergarten Cop was before his time.
"There's something in my eye. Am I going to go blind?" Sorry, you're not likely to need a cool Nick Fury eye patch. Watch a Jeremy Renner movie, he's a sight for sore eyes.
"Mother, I have a big mosquito bite on my head. It's driving me crazy." Are you sure it's not lice and a tumor?
You: "The Precious, are you a hypochondriac?"
The Precious: "I am not a hypochondriac. Wait, what's a hypochondriac? Can you die from it?"
No, he's not a hypochondriac at all, he's just ultra-conscious of his own homeostasis. And he bugs me about it endlessly.
"I had to scratch my head twice this morning, and it itched again just now. Do I have lice?" You have dry scalp. Use conditioner next time you wash your hair.
"I got a cut on my hand. Is it going to get infected?" Use Neosporin. Here's a Spiderman Band-aid.
"Do you see this spot on my arm? What is that? Do I have skin cancer?" I'm blogging right now, quit yammering towards me. It's dirt. Wash it off.
"I was outside when the crop duster flew over the field. Will I die from chemical poisoning?" Not immediately. Take a shower and change your clothes. And leave me alone for a minute, I'm concentrating my magic to pay $1984 worth of bills with $423.
"My stomach hurts. Do I have an ulcer?" No! Drink a glass of water and ease up on the Flamin Hot Cheetos.
"What exactly is an ulcer?" It's a, you know, stomach thing, that, like, hurts or whatever. Stop knocking on the door with stupid questions and let me pee all by myself! Google it! Look it up in one of my sciencey books!
"Look at this bump on my wrist. Is this a tumor?" And then you HAVE to answer in your Schwarzenegger voice but he doesn't get it because Kindergarten Cop was before his time.
"There's something in my eye. Am I going to go blind?" Sorry, you're not likely to need a cool Nick Fury eye patch. Watch a Jeremy Renner movie, he's a sight for sore eyes.
"Mother, I have a big mosquito bite on my head. It's driving me crazy." Are you sure it's not lice and a tumor?
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Somebody Walked Into a Bar
I love "walked into a bar" jokes.
A blond walked into a bar. You'd think she would have seen it. -Richard Armitage.
A grasshopper walked into a bar. The bartender said, "Hey, we have a drink named after you!" The grasshopper said, "You have a drink called Steve?" -Santa Claussen
Two guys walked into a bar. You'd think the second one would duck. -Andrew R.
Two strings walked into a bar. The bartender said, "We don't serve strings here. Get out of my bar." The first string left. The second string went into the bathroom, tied himself in half, ratted his hair, and went back to the bar. The bartender said, "We don't serve strings here. You're not a string, are you?" The string answered, "I'm afraid not." (You have to think outside the spelling.) -Rapunzel
Two elves walked into a bar. A Hobbit laughed and walked under it. -Pixie
A bear walked into a bar and said, "I'll have a gin.........and tonic." The bartender asked, "Why the big pause?" The bear said, "I got them from my dad." (I had to think a moment before I got that one. Again, it's the spelling.) -Again, Santa Claussen
The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was a tense moment. -Facebook
A Roman walked into a bar. He held up two fingers, and said, "I'll have five beers." -Pixie
A depressed cat walked into a bar. The bartender gave the cat a shot. The cat slowly pushed the shot glass to the edge of the bar, watched it fall to the floor and shatter, then said, "Another." -The Internets
Jeremy Renner walked into a bar. He said it hurt. -I made that up myself.
Can't remember where I heard it, but it's my personal all-time favorite:
A dyslexic guy walked into a bra.
A blond walked into a bar. You'd think she would have seen it. -Richard Armitage.
A grasshopper walked into a bar. The bartender said, "Hey, we have a drink named after you!" The grasshopper said, "You have a drink called Steve?" -Santa Claussen
Two guys walked into a bar. You'd think the second one would duck. -Andrew R.
Two strings walked into a bar. The bartender said, "We don't serve strings here. Get out of my bar." The first string left. The second string went into the bathroom, tied himself in half, ratted his hair, and went back to the bar. The bartender said, "We don't serve strings here. You're not a string, are you?" The string answered, "I'm afraid not." (You have to think outside the spelling.) -Rapunzel
Two elves walked into a bar. A Hobbit laughed and walked under it. -Pixie
A bear walked into a bar and said, "I'll have a gin.........and tonic." The bartender asked, "Why the big pause?" The bear said, "I got them from my dad." (I had to think a moment before I got that one. Again, it's the spelling.) -Again, Santa Claussen
The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was a tense moment. -Facebook
A Roman walked into a bar. He held up two fingers, and said, "I'll have five beers." -Pixie
A depressed cat walked into a bar. The bartender gave the cat a shot. The cat slowly pushed the shot glass to the edge of the bar, watched it fall to the floor and shatter, then said, "Another." -The Internets
Jeremy Renner walked into a bar. He said it hurt. -I made that up myself.
Can't remember where I heard it, but it's my personal all-time favorite:
A dyslexic guy walked into a bra.
Friday, April 4, 2014
Bipolar
Since I have too many things to do, I needed to waste some time. Doesn't make sense? Of course not, that's what this blog is all about. So because I have Richard Armitage on the brain, I started youtubing North and South.
(...time lapse...)
I'm not sure when I started this blog entry, but I finished watching North and South a long time ago. North and South...that's why the title is "Bipolar"...get it? Not sure what else I was planning to write that day, but apparently I got distracted.
Anyway, North and South is on my "If Hunneypunkin Goes Shopping for my Birthday" list. I'll pop me some corn and melt me some butter and watch North and South with Hunneypunkin and Jeremy Renner.
(...time lapse...)
I'm not sure when I started this blog entry, but I finished watching North and South a long time ago. North and South...that's why the title is "Bipolar"...get it? Not sure what else I was planning to write that day, but apparently I got distracted.
Anyway, North and South is on my "If Hunneypunkin Goes Shopping for my Birthday" list. I'll pop me some corn and melt me some butter and watch North and South with Hunneypunkin and Jeremy Renner.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Inappropriate Use of Packing Tape
I'm breathing easy after having survived an uneventful April Fool's Day. Usually an innocent bystander, I must confess that this one time, I started it. My boss's boss came to town, took the guys to lunch, and left me alone in the office. With his laptop. (How did this guy get into upper management?) Not one to ignore opportunity when she knocks, I utilized two teensy slices of packing tape to seal BossBoss's laptop shut.
In my defense I must explain that I spent all waking hours in that constricting office--true story, I slept while I drove home--with only Tom's Coffee and stale ramen for sustenance and only chronic migraines and sinus infections for company. It was quite necessary to provide myself with occasional enrichment exercises.
Okay, the sustenance/company story is not completely true. I did have a daily visit with, and chocolate chip cookie from, Santa Claussen. TWO daily if I was good. Nevertheless, the need for occasional enrichment exercises still stood.
I had downed my ramen and was on a conference call when BossBoss, Boss, and Crew returned from mightily feasting. I had actually forgotten my packing tape exercise until BossBoss, fumbling with his laptop, looked at me and said, "Let me guess. Your boss?" Not one to throw my boss under the bus, I tried to throw a coworker under the bus. "I TOLD Santa Claussen not to do that," I said. The bonus of ranking too low for a business luncheon, is also ranking too low to be a prank suspect.
Apparently I also ranked too low for BossBoss to believe me, because he still suspected my boss and gave him a proper thanking. Not one to take false incrimination lightly, Boss took up the packing tape himself. When I got to the office next morning, the exercise ball with which I had replaced my desk chair had been thoroughly packaged in tape. So I taped Boss's mouse to his mouse pad. So Boss packing-taped my mouse and mouse pad. I taped down the handset of his desk phone. He taped down the handset of my desk phone. I taped his desk drawers shut.
Boss upped the ante from packing tape to rubber spiders. Rubber SPIDERS! Not one to be one-upped, I raided the coffee station to replace the sugar with salt.
I no longer work there. Boss doesn't either. (Not necessarily because of inappropriate use of packing tape.) I don't think Boss ever got me back for the salted coffee. Sometimes I wake up in the night and worry about that. All I can do is put on my best tough-and-cool Jeremy Renner face so nobody knows that I'm constantly looking over my shoulder.
In my defense I must explain that I spent all waking hours in that constricting office--true story, I slept while I drove home--with only Tom's Coffee and stale ramen for sustenance and only chronic migraines and sinus infections for company. It was quite necessary to provide myself with occasional enrichment exercises.
Okay, the sustenance/company story is not completely true. I did have a daily visit with, and chocolate chip cookie from, Santa Claussen. TWO daily if I was good. Nevertheless, the need for occasional enrichment exercises still stood.
I had downed my ramen and was on a conference call when BossBoss, Boss, and Crew returned from mightily feasting. I had actually forgotten my packing tape exercise until BossBoss, fumbling with his laptop, looked at me and said, "Let me guess. Your boss?" Not one to throw my boss under the bus, I tried to throw a coworker under the bus. "I TOLD Santa Claussen not to do that," I said. The bonus of ranking too low for a business luncheon, is also ranking too low to be a prank suspect.
Apparently I also ranked too low for BossBoss to believe me, because he still suspected my boss and gave him a proper thanking. Not one to take false incrimination lightly, Boss took up the packing tape himself. When I got to the office next morning, the exercise ball with which I had replaced my desk chair had been thoroughly packaged in tape. So I taped Boss's mouse to his mouse pad. So Boss packing-taped my mouse and mouse pad. I taped down the handset of his desk phone. He taped down the handset of my desk phone. I taped his desk drawers shut.
Boss upped the ante from packing tape to rubber spiders. Rubber SPIDERS! Not one to be one-upped, I raided the coffee station to replace the sugar with salt.
I no longer work there. Boss doesn't either. (Not necessarily because of inappropriate use of packing tape.) I don't think Boss ever got me back for the salted coffee. Sometimes I wake up in the night and worry about that. All I can do is put on my best tough-and-cool Jeremy Renner face so nobody knows that I'm constantly looking over my shoulder.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Happy, happy, happy
My laptop came home from the doctor today. It's fast. It's clean. It works as it's supposed to. All the keys function. It didn't cost my right leg. I'm happier than The Precious at the movies. I'm happier than Lefty eating hot dogs. I'm happier than Angel Doll with a cookbook.
I'm happy even though it's Friday and Blue Bloods isn't on tonight. Sorry, basketball fans, March Madness is a rotten reason to blow off the Reagans. Maybe I'll watch an episode I missed a couple weeks ago, on my laptop that won't overheat and shut itself down after thirteen minutes. I'm happier than Pixie in an arsenal or on the X-box or at a fashion show. I'm happier than Jeremy Renner with a turkey bacon cheeseburger.
I'm happy even though it's Friday and Blue Bloods isn't on tonight. Sorry, basketball fans, March Madness is a rotten reason to blow off the Reagans. Maybe I'll watch an episode I missed a couple weeks ago, on my laptop that won't overheat and shut itself down after thirteen minutes. I'm happier than Pixie in an arsenal or on the X-box or at a fashion show. I'm happier than Jeremy Renner with a turkey bacon cheeseburger.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Stupid Modern Technology
I didn't think I'd need to print the Excel file, so I just saved it to the desktop of my laptop and left to make a pitstop.
Meanwhile, other things came up like a game of whack-a-mole, and today, when I needed the Excel file like now-ish...I didn't have it because I had taken my laptop to the doctor. No problemo, I thought. I logged in to my email on Elder Computer, only to find I had deleted the email because, you know, I had saved the file. I like to keep my inbox cleaned out, but this is like when I was a teenager and my mother Rapunzel used to tell me, all in good fun, that I was too blasted efficient. She'd go looking for her coffee, and I'd have dumped it out and washed the mug.
I had to beg the sender to resend the file, which she promptly did, at which time I was cruelly reminded that Elder Computer doesn't have Excel. I'm going into town tonight, so I'll apprehend someone else's computer and open my file there. Wait...what's my stinkin password? Elder Computer knows what my password is. I don't.
I had to further beg the sender to reresend the file, to another email address whose password I DO know. Either she's cursing me right now, or she has the patience of Jeremy Renner. Again she obliged, and Voila! thanks to Excel Online and the fact that I can access it from this email program, I now have the file. I'm trying really hard not to print seventy-nine copies of it just in case.
Just as I was about to post this blog entry to Facebook, as if there are people out there who actually want to read it, what should I hear from across the house but, "This one?"--CLICK--computer off. Because The Precious was turning off breakers for Hunneypunkin who was doing some electrical work. No, not that one. That was the one that powered the computer. True story.
Meanwhile, other things came up like a game of whack-a-mole, and today, when I needed the Excel file like now-ish...I didn't have it because I had taken my laptop to the doctor. No problemo, I thought. I logged in to my email on Elder Computer, only to find I had deleted the email because, you know, I had saved the file. I like to keep my inbox cleaned out, but this is like when I was a teenager and my mother Rapunzel used to tell me, all in good fun, that I was too blasted efficient. She'd go looking for her coffee, and I'd have dumped it out and washed the mug.
I had to beg the sender to resend the file, which she promptly did, at which time I was cruelly reminded that Elder Computer doesn't have Excel. I'm going into town tonight, so I'll apprehend someone else's computer and open my file there. Wait...what's my stinkin password? Elder Computer knows what my password is. I don't.
I had to further beg the sender to reresend the file, to another email address whose password I DO know. Either she's cursing me right now, or she has the patience of Jeremy Renner. Again she obliged, and Voila! thanks to Excel Online and the fact that I can access it from this email program, I now have the file. I'm trying really hard not to print seventy-nine copies of it just in case.
Just as I was about to post this blog entry to Facebook, as if there are people out there who actually want to read it, what should I hear from across the house but, "This one?"--CLICK--computer off. Because The Precious was turning off breakers for Hunneypunkin who was doing some electrical work. No, not that one. That was the one that powered the computer. True story.
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