I Couldn't Fall Back Asleep Last Night So I Woke Up Late but I Couldn't Call in to Work Because "I Was Up Late Working on My Zombie Outbreak Preparedness Plan" isn't a "Valid" Excuse. Whatever.

About 2:20 am, princess Wee One decided that she was going to be awake.  Loudly awake.  It could've been her 18 month shots that had her feeling grumpy, I don't know, but she was up.  And pissed.  So I rocked her pretty little self back to sleep.
When I got her back in bed and set off towards my bedroom, the hallway was pitch black and I couldn't see.  I was scared of tripping and falling and ghosts pulling my hair, so after I blindly and anxiously felt my way back to bed, I whisper-yelled at the Hubby that the flashlight wasn't on (we turn a little one on when Wee One gets up so we don't have to turn on hallway or room lights.  Because that hurts the eyes.  Try it sometime.  Go from full on sleep in pitch black to full on lights blaring.  Not fun.)

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I May Have Scarred My Oldest Daughter for Life.

This past weekend as we were rushing to get dressed and out the door to enjoy our Saturday, Bossy Girl ran into my bedroom and collided with me as I was getting dressed.  I had on everything except my shirt, and she stared at me, wide-eyed, first at my bra, and then at my stomach.  The look on her face was pure shock.  Then she quietly reached out and touched my tummy, asking, "Mommy, what happened to your belly?"

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I Prefer My Birds Fried in a Bucket, Extra Crispy Style.

Dear Chirpy, Chipper, 5:00 am Birds,
I'm sorry, you must have made a mistake.  You must assume that some morning, with all your tweety tweets and chirpy chirps that suddenly the windows of my bedroom will fly open and you'll see this:
And you'll flitter flutter on in and make me a dress and I'll sew you some bonnets and give you fresh seeds to munch on while I sing you a song.

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If the Hyatt Calls, I've Never Seen Their Towels Before in My Life. What Missing Towels? (*throws towels in dryer*) aka Part II of When I Did Chicago

If you haven't read part one of when I did Chicago, you might wanna start there first.  Or not.  I'm not the boss of you.  You can start here, then go to part one, or never read part one at all.  But if you don't, you won't read about how I do not telepathically communicate with cows.  Up to you.
Where'd I leave off?  Oh yes, my unintentional act of burglary. (Not like the time I was five and stole the orange Tic Tacs from the store.  And ate them.  That was totally on purpose.  I wanted those little candy bits of orange wonderful but my heartless, cruel mom said no so what's a girl with no allowance to do?  Exactly.)

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I Spent a Couple Days in Chicago and All I Got Was a Free Newspaper. That I STOLE FROM A HOMELESS GUY. I'm Such an Asshole. But in My Defense, I Don't Know Hobo Etiquette.

Guys?  This one is gonna be a long one (that's what he said) so I'm gonna have to divide it into parts.  That's what "real" bloggers do to avoid torturing their readers with super ridiculously long posts about things that have no significance in the world order.  I can assure you, however, that all my musings have meaning and somehow are making the world a better place.  For the orphans.

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It Was Pretty Much an Emergency Situation in the Toy Room Today

When Bossy Girl was 4, she really got into the Wizard of Oz.  She would watch it over and over again, as anyone does with a movie they love. When she turned 5, for Christmas that year I thought it would be a great idea to get her the Barbie collector's edition Wizard of Oz dolls.  They were quite expensive at $39.99 a Barbie, but with some coming from the Hubby and I, as well as her grandparents, we were able to get her pretty much the entire set of main characters.  Plus one munchkin.

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I Really Have Nothing to Share But I Haven't Blogged in a While So This is What You Get.

Have you ever been so busy and/or lazy that you just can't find time to pee and then you hold your pee so long that when you finally do go you're already peeing before you even sit down (for the ladies) and then it's likely the most satisfying pee of your life and your bladder is grateful and you sigh in relief but then after you're done it burns like holy hell for hours afterwards?

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An Open Letter To David Beckham

Dear Lover David, 
I've been admiring you from a distance for some time now.  Less distance now since you moved here to the US, so thank you for that one.  But still.  A distance.  I didn't like having an entire ocean between us, by the way.  Made it harder to stalk you.  Because I'm scared of the ocean.  I don't fully understand how deep it is, and those depths scare me.  Mainly because of what's down there that we don't even know about.  Freaks me the hell out.  What if you're floating out there and a giant whale is just under you and you don't even know it cuz it's so deep and dark and they're silent but deadly predators and holy shit I'm scared right now. Hold me like you mean it.

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Things I Googled This Week

This is the first post in a new series I'm starting that is dedicated to the random things I Google during a typical week.  Because I am a scholar.  And I want to learn things.  And Google is my logical resource.
Remember back in the day when we had to browse through those card catalogs to go find actual books or encyclopedias?  Lame.

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Lent Brings Out My Inner Catholic Girl. And Then After A Week of Avoiding the Thing I Gave Up (which is always a food or alcohol product), I Tell Her to Shut the Hell Up and Send Her Back Where She Came From.

LENT.  It's that time of year again and since I usually don't even realize Lent is in progress until it's about two weeks from being over, (only because I notice Easter is fast approaching and I need to buy jelly beans and Peeps and Cadbury Eggs and ham and make deviled eggs), I'm blogging about it because I'm ahead of the game this time around.

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Half-Assed Weekend Post of Randomness. Now With Four Wheel Drive, Charlie Sheen, and Old Ladies.

Haven't done a half-assed weekend post in a while. 
So here goes.
"Someone" in my house spent a shitload of money on this yesterday:
My readers are smart, they can figure out who did this.
Therefore "someone" in my house, who's awesome and pretty and smart, will likely be scoring one of the below soon because fair is fair and if you don't want to hear "someone" nag like the professional nag she is, then you will suck it up and like it, or drive yourself off in your little remote control toy.

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My Lack of Trust in the Intentions of Others is Epic and Well-Documented

Last night after dinner our doorbell rang.  Hubby and I stopped our kitchen cleaning for a moment and looked at each other, confused.  What was that noise?  Our doorbell never rings.  No one wants to come visit us, especially those living around us.  And if you were to see the state of my house, you'd know why.  And when we're outside we rarely acknowledge the presence of most of our neighbors.  And, I scream shut up!!out the window at stupid barking-all-night dogs. Plus, we have a doormat that says, Go Away, so we're practically the neighborhood welcome wagon.

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My Favorite Blog Posts That Don't Belong to Me

  Well, I've got nothing original or good right now, so I'm going to take some time tonight to share a few of my favorite bloggers that I follow and some of what I think are their very best posts.  I hope you take the time to read some of these and discover some great, talented writers. Many of whom are funny as hell and so quick-witted it's awesome and inspiring and makes me jealous and pissed off that I'm not as good.  Maybe you're already following some of them.  Maybe not.  Either way, read up and enjoy. Go through their archived posts too.  So much good stuff, baby.  It's like I'm encouraging you to cheat on me and see other bloggers.  And not even behind my back.  Blogging monogamy is SO overrated.  PLUS this gives you a further glimpse into my mind because this is the kind of shit I find hilarious.  And if you don't find it funny, something is likely wrong with your brain.  You may need therapy and an MRI.

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A Mood-Swingy Monday

I wanted to title this post Bipolar Monday, but I didn't want to offend.
Which says a lot, cuz typically I'm offensive at least twice a day, and I usually just go with it.
My day started out tired and gloomy and rushed and full of "running lateness," therefore I was in a funk.
Then, the heavens opened and a bright light shined down on me and filled my soul with glee because my Girl Scout cookies were delivered! Can I get an "amen"?!

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