July 22, 2009

Tramp Stamps, Continued...

Ok, ok. So the Tramp Stamp thing. I argued that the girls who get the little sissy delicate "butterfly" tats are the ones I consider a tramp stamp. I mean, what, they went to a shop probably all drunk and gigly and stuck their ass in the artist face and sat there all of 20 minutes to get their picture they picked off the wall inked on. Barely a step up from the rub and sticks you get from the quarter vending machines. Please.

Sorry but I have never liked a sissy girl. Girly yes. Sissy no. So I argue that mine does not fit the tramp stamp category because its big. Ok, true I got it when I was 17; with a home made gun; on a living room floor; while heavily under the influence but so what?! Some might say I was stupid (especially my mother) but I take it as a testament to my sense of adventure and spontaneity! Or at least I will until I fork over nearly a grand to get it um, straightened up.

Tramp stamp or not, boys let me tell you something here: Girls get tatoos there for a reason! First of all the lower back is a place that feels good. Like, "please touch it, rub it, lick it" whatever kind of good. Its like getting the engine revving on a car. You want to pay attention here. A tramp stamp says

"Pay attention HERE"

(yes you boys needs obvious directions, most of the time)

Secondly a tramp stamp (gigly drunken shop girl or not) says


We girls like adventure! We like a little edge. And while some of us may be content as "SUZI HOMEMAKER" I bet you money that every girl has her "SUZI DICKSUCKER" just below the surface. We like to be sexy! And that, my friends can not be argued.

Girls 1, Boys 0

damn it unless you count the fact that they still get to drool over our tramp stamps:
Girls 1, Boys 1 =(

July 21, 2009

The I.T. Department, my friend.

Dear I.T. People,

You are truly amazing. Without you I would have no clue how to work shit. I am one of the people who pounds on the keyboard and clicks 15 times too many when it doesn't GO. Yes I am one of the people you will ask if I have checked if the computer is plugged in as you roll your eyes and sigh at yet another moron.

I hate technical stuff. I am even having issues with this damn blog. How hard can it possibly freakin be?? I think you brainiac programmers make shit compicated on purpose. So you can feel smart and we can feel dumb. But, whatever, its cool as long as you fix it. I understand the need for job security. Its true that the world would not function without nerds.

So hats off to you. Keep posting your "how to" tutorials in lamens terms for the rest of us right brained, flowers and puppies and all things pretty and free kinds of people.

Rock on!

"Poop in his hand! Poop in his hand!"

One great thing about having kids is that you can be a total dork with them and they love it! For example, all day today I have been randomly yelling out, "Poop in his hand! Poop in his hand!" from that hampster movie preview. My 8 year old laughs hysterically. 8 year olds are goofy as hell. Anyone else would probably just think I had tourretts syndrome or something.

So I just took some advil pm's since how I've been in crack mode for about 10 days now. Reference my first blog: I was worried about this. I blog instead of sleep. I blog instead of make dinner. I blog instead of acknowledging my husband when he comes home. I get into a zombie trance, I can sit here for hours. Average bed time lately is not earlier than 3am. So I'm going to sit here and tweak until I flop over onto my pillow and drool. Ahhh bliss.

My baby girl is getting so big! 3 months old already. I spent several hours going through her clothes and purging what she has already outgrown. Its a sad thing for a mommy to do; packing up all the little tiny onsies and her little pink ruffle dress she wore home from the hospital. My husband keeps talking about getting me pregnant again but I think he is much more interested in the process rather than the outcome. =)

Speaking of which...I hope he makes it home before the pillow drool sequence.

July 16, 2009

I've done it for a latte.

A long, long time ago I held the fashionable title of Barista at Starbucks. The opening shift was at 4:30am. I would drag in, squinty eyed and fumble my way to the I.V. tap filled with espresso. My first latte I drank slowly and would get me from squinty to half mast. Latte two would make me tolerable to talk to and almost friendly. By lattes three and four my blood would be swing dancing through my veins to the latest Starbucks Hear Music.

So now, years later (latte or not, age slows you down) I've joined this women's only workout bootcamp to kick down some of this leftover baby weight. Its working great so far!

What is not working is the 4:45am start time! 5 days a week these crazy women spring out of bed to run and squat and ick, do situps? And whats worse is we pay for this torture. Last class we had to run a mile and get clocked on our time. What am I in high school again?

Ok, ok I fess up. I am actually in the 9am class BUT that is just as early for me! The other night I went to bed at 4am soooo, you get it.

Anyway, 9am came and went this Thursday without so much as a crack of the eyelid so now I am making up the class at the only other dreaded 4:45am spot. I think its completely insane and have never been one to commit to the popular country club goin', suburbian "active lifestyle". Hence the gained ahem, 40 pounds while pregnant.

No, I do not enjoy the class one bit. The only thing that is motivating me to go is the glimpse I'm seeing of the MILF body I had before all those damn super burritos and enchiladas. And 6 dollar burgers. And fries. And fat stacks of chocolate chip pancakes...

I CAN do this! I've done it for a latte.

The Ink Stain

Everything that ever was in my life. No matter what, it will be. There is no removing it. Kind of like that tattoo I got when I was 17. Ugh.

The canvas has its spills, its imperfections, no doubt as we all do. But those can become a thing of beauty... an important background for that which lays ahead. So MY blank canvas is each new day.

Every day we get the chance to start fresh, to create something new. To take that which is (and its just that: it is what it is), and make the VERY best of it. To smile, to laugh, to love, to learn and grow. To embrace the ink stains because they make you, YOU.


July 13, 2009

Jagermeister and Koala Bears

So I was at the bowling alley the other night where a group of our friends were supposed to have a few drinks and engage in an oh so thrilling game of bowling.

Being that the bowling alley also has a sports bar attached with a live band and all we never actually made it out to the lanes.

Well sometime after my fourth or maybe fifth Jagerbomb (I think I had 7 or 8 in a few hours time ...nevermind the Jager, thats A LOT of Redbull!) I had to go pee before I felt it running down my legs from the incessant laughter at well, all things hillarious when drunk. So I headed to the bathroom.

Quite naturally the womans bathroom had a line. Duh right? What was not so natural was the Koala Bear Care baby changing station I noticed mounted on the wall while waiting in that line. I pulled it down to examine it and even confirmed with the other woman that there was in fact a baby changing station in the bar bathroom! WTF?

Nighty Night Baby!
This is my first photoshop project! lol...not too bad I think. Any tips or tricks you know of, please share!

Call me Neo.

The Oracle : The Matrix as Google : Me

Its the playground for the mind. Anything you can think of is at your fingertips.

I do have to say that I love the new Bing commercials. They are hillarious because that is how we roll! I never just Google one thing...I start reading and then Google something else and so on and so on. BUT, I do not actually like Bing. Sorry Microsoft. My loyalties shall remain with Google. What can I say? Its iconic.

The Online Oracle.

To blog or not to blog...

About 3 days ago my husband introduced me to the world of blogging. Yes I was completely oblivious before that. How, I don't know. ??? Anyway, cool! i loved it. I was highly entertained by some of the blogs he found and read to me like "He blogs, She blogs" and "Motherhood Uncensored". So we decided to create one. Great! Well for 3 days we have both opened it up, managed the profile options, tweaked the colors but no post. I found that i had an unsettled feeling about the whole thing. A freakish windfall of thoughts and emotions quickly surrounded me. Okay? Over a blog??

Hear me out a minute:

1. What is the point? No, really. Couldn't I just get a diary? Boring, I agree.

2. What will I write? Will anyone read it? Does it matter? Wait, but isn't that the point?

3. Isn't it a little narcissistic? I guess it can't really be any worse than posting pics on Myspace and counting your profile view. lol

4. Will I get sucked into a deep vortex blogging incessantly? Highly likely.

So I decided to Google it. This is what I found: A top 10 list of why to and why not to blog....

3. Because no one really wants to read what you have to say.
“Why should all learning professionals be blogging any more than they should all be presenting at conferences, producing papers, writing books or sharing their views, opinions and knowledge through any other medium?” (Barry Sampson)

5. Because bloggers are narcissists (Peter Isackson) only interested in establishing a Cult of Personality (saw that in a discussion group) – and you’re so not that way.

HA HA. at least I'm not the only one.

6. Because it will change your life.
“there is something that happens to a person when they hit that "publish" button - you cross a threshold - you move from consumer to producer - you put your intellectual neck on the line and I really think that you aren't the same person after that.” (Mark Oehlert)

This last one hit the nail on the head for me! My perfectionist nature was rearing its ugly head inside me once again. That monster inside who at times keeps me from doing anything for fear of possible failure, which for me is usually anything short of my Plan A. Like Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada, "there is no plan B." I could only cross that threshold of the unknown once I was good and ready. Being at a crossroads in life, standing on the edge of a precipice i decided to jump. And so, rather dramatically, here I go.

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