Went over to Sis-in-Law's for dinner last night with the fam to welcome home Aunt-in-law and her new husband from their island wedding (2nd marriage for both after being widowed -- sweet!).
Went to get a wine glass from the cupboard and Lo, and Behold!, there were the stemless wine glasses I gave Mother-in-law for Christmas! She had turned them over to Sis-in-law because, as Sis-in-Law explained, "She didn't want them."
Gee, thanks. Wonder what to give a person who has everything but drinks alot of wine and has a bull in a china shop for a husband who is famous for spilling on the fancy rugs (you should see his placemat when he finishes a meal)?
I know I was scraping in the gift department but at least they were nice glasses.
Sorry to say, but that did hurt my feelings. What to do in a fussy family who doesn't like anything and eschews gift cards?
I got a nutcracker from Mother-in-Law for my collection with a missing piece (wonder what sale shelf that came from) and a jewelry travel roll from Sis-in-law for ALL THAT TRAVELING I do with ALL THAT JEWELRY I have.
Give me a gift card anyday, please.
Wish I had those stemless glasses.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
That Sexy Mortgage
Second day of the divas being gone.
House is eerily quiet. But nice. I can do this.
Should be a great week. No kids…full of eating out, partying, hanging out with friends, going to the movies, having sex (!), right?
Wrong (insert buzzer sound here)!
I couldn't pay the whole mortgage this month. I paid what I could, but all my clients are soooo slow pay, plus, I hardly have any clients. No one is buying fancy suits so hubby isn't doing so well either. The bank, however, did call hubby at work today and informed him that the mortage hadn't been fully paid. He already knew this, but his gasket blew nonetheless and he called me to inform me that he couldn't receive calls like that at work. So I called the bank, placated them, and then, I called his mom and asked her for the money. She is on vacation on the west coast. I am guessing that my call wasn't really one she wanted to receive. We are so lucky to have her, and I felt like a big pile of dirt even having to ask her.
Soooo, no dinners out, no movies, and since we are so stressed out…definitely no sex.
I wonder if this recession will produce more babies or less? If people are staying home, are they not having sex because they are worried about money? Or are they having lots of sex because there is nothing else to do?
I know it's the last thing on my mind. All I can do is fret away my kid-free week about money.
House is eerily quiet. But nice. I can do this.
Should be a great week. No kids…full of eating out, partying, hanging out with friends, going to the movies, having sex (!), right?
Wrong (insert buzzer sound here)!
I couldn't pay the whole mortgage this month. I paid what I could, but all my clients are soooo slow pay, plus, I hardly have any clients. No one is buying fancy suits so hubby isn't doing so well either. The bank, however, did call hubby at work today and informed him that the mortage hadn't been fully paid. He already knew this, but his gasket blew nonetheless and he called me to inform me that he couldn't receive calls like that at work. So I called the bank, placated them, and then, I called his mom and asked her for the money. She is on vacation on the west coast. I am guessing that my call wasn't really one she wanted to receive. We are so lucky to have her, and I felt like a big pile of dirt even having to ask her.
Soooo, no dinners out, no movies, and since we are so stressed out…definitely no sex.
I wonder if this recession will produce more babies or less? If people are staying home, are they not having sex because they are worried about money? Or are they having lots of sex because there is nothing else to do?
I know it's the last thing on my mind. All I can do is fret away my kid-free week about money.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Home Alone
It's the start of what is going to be a quiet week.
Divas are at grandparents for a few days, and I am recovering from hosting a baby shower yesterday. Recovering because I drank a 1/2 bottle of wine the night before the shower, and because the wild 22 and 23 year olds I co-hosted with mixed vodka, pink lemonade and watermelon chunks together and served 'em at the shower. They both showed up hung over so it became a contest to see how many of those we could drink to constitute "hair of the dog." Maybe for them it worked, but I became totally useless as the day dragged on.
After cleaning up after the shower, I folded one load of laundry and then, blanked out in front of E! and HBO for the rest of the day.
I felt guilty. But then, I convinced myself not to feel guilty. I never get to do this anymore. No interruptions from the Divas, most of the household drudgery is under control, so I just let myself go...into passive mode.
Bad thing is, it's catching. I have it today, too.
It's Monday. I should be working. I slept 'til 11. I had coffee. I perused perez hilton and tmz. I took sis in law to the airport (sole reason for getting dressed -- she's going out of town! Can't believe it, divas and sis in law out of town for a whole week!!) I watched some more E!, ate a piece of leftover coconut cake from the shower, and now I am attempting to work again. Wait! No...I am blogging!
Is this what life was like when I was single, before Divas?
I am alone, super lazy and really...almost depressed. I miss em!
Divas are at grandparents for a few days, and I am recovering from hosting a baby shower yesterday. Recovering because I drank a 1/2 bottle of wine the night before the shower, and because the wild 22 and 23 year olds I co-hosted with mixed vodka, pink lemonade and watermelon chunks together and served 'em at the shower. They both showed up hung over so it became a contest to see how many of those we could drink to constitute "hair of the dog." Maybe for them it worked, but I became totally useless as the day dragged on.
After cleaning up after the shower, I folded one load of laundry and then, blanked out in front of E! and HBO for the rest of the day.
I felt guilty. But then, I convinced myself not to feel guilty. I never get to do this anymore. No interruptions from the Divas, most of the household drudgery is under control, so I just let myself go...into passive mode.
Bad thing is, it's catching. I have it today, too.
It's Monday. I should be working. I slept 'til 11. I had coffee. I perused perez hilton and tmz. I took sis in law to the airport (sole reason for getting dressed -- she's going out of town! Can't believe it, divas and sis in law out of town for a whole week!!) I watched some more E!, ate a piece of leftover coconut cake from the shower, and now I am attempting to work again. Wait! No...I am blogging!
Is this what life was like when I was single, before Divas?
I am alone, super lazy and really...almost depressed. I miss em!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
How much time can one man spend in the bathroom?
Apparently quite a bit. By my calculations it goes something like this:
4 x .75 (3/4 hour) = 3 hours per day
3 hours x 7 days = 21 hours per week
21 x 52 = 1,092 hours PER YEAR!
That is astonishing. How much time is spent pooping? Reading? Picking cuticles?
The closed, locked bathroom door with a crack of light coming from the bottom of the door is a common, common sight in our house.
Even the divas are great at commenting on the phenomenon. "Where's Daddy?" I ask.
"He's pooping," they reply with complete seriousness.
This morning, hubby pointed out that Diva #1 has begun reading on the toilet. She also farts and laughs, burps and blows...all those joyful things that hubby finds so funny. If she gets married one day, she and her hubby will get along great.
Oh, and if anyone is interested, the literature of choice in our home for bathroom reading is "The Bottom Line" ( www.bottomlinesecrets.com ).
4 x .75 (3/4 hour) = 3 hours per day
3 hours x 7 days = 21 hours per week
21 x 52 = 1,092 hours PER YEAR!
That is astonishing. How much time is spent pooping? Reading? Picking cuticles?
The closed, locked bathroom door with a crack of light coming from the bottom of the door is a common, common sight in our house.
Even the divas are great at commenting on the phenomenon. "Where's Daddy?" I ask.
"He's pooping," they reply with complete seriousness.
This morning, hubby pointed out that Diva #1 has begun reading on the toilet. She also farts and laughs, burps and blows...all those joyful things that hubby finds so funny. If she gets married one day, she and her hubby will get along great.
Oh, and if anyone is interested, the literature of choice in our home for bathroom reading is "The Bottom Line" ( www.bottomlinesecrets.com ).
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Barbies are trashy.
They don't live here anymore. The messed up hair, the single shoe, the naked bodies with limbs akimbo....they've all moved out. A big white trash bag with a red tie came and took them while the kids were at the pool with sister in law.
Amazing that their departure has left a wide open space in my psyche, and in my house. It felt sooo good. Now, Dear God, let me resist cluttering it up with more plastic-y stuff.
I hope the girlies don't notice for awhile. Mum's the word.
Amazing that their departure has left a wide open space in my psyche, and in my house. It felt sooo good. Now, Dear God, let me resist cluttering it up with more plastic-y stuff.
I hope the girlies don't notice for awhile. Mum's the word.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
lax-a-daze-i-cal
OK, I know I am supposed to be working…working hard to pay my mortgage, buy xmas wreaths from the diva's school fundraisers, pay my electric bill, etc. etc. And I do. But for some reason, small pockets of pleasurable time have forced their way into my life. And I have allowed, and invited, them in.
Lately, my pleasure has been grabbing a 30 minute nap in my car when I pull into the parking garage at work. I find a quiet corner, crank my seat back, turn on NPR low, and catch a snooze. It's wonderful. It's weird. But I like it. I have confessed this to a few people and they just stare at me. One guy in my office even seeks out my car in the morning to see if he can catch me sleeping. But I am a stealth sleeper, so that will never happen. Sadly, soon I won't be able to do it because it will be too cold. I like my car really warm. Especially the seat warmers. Those come in handy even in summer when we are blasted with air conditioning from every angle.
The other pleasure that has become more of a habit is sleeping fully clothed. When I put the girls to bed, I tell them I am going to lie with them for five minutes. Then, I get all snuggly with their sweet breath, soft skin, and little thumb sucking sounds that I stay for five more minutes. By that time, I am so engrossed in whatever story we are listening to, that I give in and let sleep engulf me. Last night it was Nancy Drew, "The Secret of Twin Elms" read by Laura Linney. She reads very well, a bit fast, but all in all, I can see why she was hired. Last night the attire was Lucky Jeans, a too tight white blouse, my luxury Peter Millar cashmere sweater and a pocket full of tootsie roll wrappers, bobby pins, and ponytail holders. The only bad thing about this habit is that I am not really consistent with my dental care. I need to do that before putting them to bed. The beautiful thing about it is that I get a good, long night's sleep, and amazingly, as a pull my bra off in the morning that I just slept in, I feel pretty rested.
Today, I just didn't feel like busting hump. I took the divas to school (after trying to pick Diva 2's nose -- she has a terrible case of raw nose with tons of stuff stuck up there -- I hope the teachers don't ask her to throw her head back and laugh) and my hair was just gross. So I came home, laid in bed for 30 minutes and listened to the TODAY show, had a toasted sesame bagel with pumpkin butter and a hot cup of coffee, then I straightened my hair. It's really straight 'cuz I didn't have to hurry. AND, I was at work at 9:11 am.
Now, that was lazy. And, it was pleasurable. Today, that's ok by me.
Lately, my pleasure has been grabbing a 30 minute nap in my car when I pull into the parking garage at work. I find a quiet corner, crank my seat back, turn on NPR low, and catch a snooze. It's wonderful. It's weird. But I like it. I have confessed this to a few people and they just stare at me. One guy in my office even seeks out my car in the morning to see if he can catch me sleeping. But I am a stealth sleeper, so that will never happen. Sadly, soon I won't be able to do it because it will be too cold. I like my car really warm. Especially the seat warmers. Those come in handy even in summer when we are blasted with air conditioning from every angle.
The other pleasure that has become more of a habit is sleeping fully clothed. When I put the girls to bed, I tell them I am going to lie with them for five minutes. Then, I get all snuggly with their sweet breath, soft skin, and little thumb sucking sounds that I stay for five more minutes. By that time, I am so engrossed in whatever story we are listening to, that I give in and let sleep engulf me. Last night it was Nancy Drew, "The Secret of Twin Elms" read by Laura Linney. She reads very well, a bit fast, but all in all, I can see why she was hired. Last night the attire was Lucky Jeans, a too tight white blouse, my luxury Peter Millar cashmere sweater and a pocket full of tootsie roll wrappers, bobby pins, and ponytail holders. The only bad thing about this habit is that I am not really consistent with my dental care. I need to do that before putting them to bed. The beautiful thing about it is that I get a good, long night's sleep, and amazingly, as a pull my bra off in the morning that I just slept in, I feel pretty rested.
Today, I just didn't feel like busting hump. I took the divas to school (after trying to pick Diva 2's nose -- she has a terrible case of raw nose with tons of stuff stuck up there -- I hope the teachers don't ask her to throw her head back and laugh) and my hair was just gross. So I came home, laid in bed for 30 minutes and listened to the TODAY show, had a toasted sesame bagel with pumpkin butter and a hot cup of coffee, then I straightened my hair. It's really straight 'cuz I didn't have to hurry. AND, I was at work at 9:11 am.
Now, that was lazy. And, it was pleasurable. Today, that's ok by me.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Grease Fire II
Well, the grease fire has reached it's full potential...read to find out.
After our bake element was shot I went on-line to GE and ordered a new bake element for $100. Of course the little pin which supported the element was attached, so I had no choice. The nice lady at GE assured me that even an idiot could install it. Just make sure to turn off the circuit breakers.
It arrived, and husband couldn't wait to install it. Did he read the directions? No. Did he call me at work to walk him through the installation? No. He just tried to install it. Lo and behold, as he took out the old element and tried to plug in the new one, a huge spark spewed out the back of the oven and sent a scintillating jolt through his body. Oops...he didn't turn off the circuit breaker.
The plug for the bake element had a big black ring around it. Smoke eeked out. It was dead.
So now what? I called the appliance repair place. $200 to come out and fix it. Plus $100 dollars for the element. That's $300. I know it's not the most environmentally sensitive solution, but it sounded like a new oven to me.
And so it is. And it's alot nicer. (Although picking it out wasn't so great -- I did find out at the appliance store that both kids can fit in a dryer at the same time). Best of all, mother in law paid for it because she can't have her son electrocuted, after all.
The lesson is this: a grease fire is not always a bad thing.
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