One for the books...Stupid Mom Moment #216

Somebody please send in my terrible mother of the year nomination.

Today while I was getting the baby dressed after a bath I slipped her diaper under her bum and grabbed the diaper rash ointment and applied a rather generous blob to her butt. About half a second before I began rubbing it all in my other daughter looks at me a little confused and asks, "Icy Hot?"

AAAHhhhhhh!! OMG, did I really just put Icy Hot on my baby's ass? How ironic because as Campeon and I used it a couple of nights before we were exchanging stories of times the Icy Hot got applied to the thigh and made its way a little too close to home for comfort. Ouch.

Flipping the tube over did in fact reveal the big red and blue letters "Icy Hot". Shit! I quickly wiped the goo off and called for emergency backup from my discerning daughter to get a rag with soap all the while waiting for the screaming to start. Well the baby's face got a little red and she got a look about her that said, "I am uncomfortable and not sure why" but she did not scream or even cry. Thank God. "Sister really saved your ass on this one, literally."

I was completely in shock. You see the tube was upside down on my night stand next to the Orajel and baby lotion. It looked the same to me. Didn't even think to look at it. Looked the same coming out too. =(

What else can I say but, its one for the books...Stupid Mom Moment #216.

Honor Thy iCal

True to my pencil sharpening nature, when we got this iMac I filled up nearly the entire year on the iCal with all sorts of things.

I have a calendar for home, one for work, one for my daughter's activities, one for ahem "family planning" which by the way does not appear to be working (we can be sure in the next couple of days here), one for chores, one for school, birthdays, etc, etc.

Well, much to Campeon's dismay, this last Wednesday I gleefully announced that today was marked for cleaning out the garage! Oh glorious day that only comes two times a year. He argued, and fought and pleaded but eventually gave in because he knew as well as I did that it really needed to be done!

Well after only a few hours we got it all spruced up and guess what miraculous thing happened next? Suddenly Campeon could get to his things again and finally decided to finish the missing grout in our kitchen which we re-tiled...6 months ago. I kept telling him "honey, its kind of ghetto to sweep and mop the kitchen, then have to bust out the vacuum cleaner hose to get all the crumbs from the cracks."

Moral of the story: Honor thy iCal and you shall see great rewards.

My kitchen now looks great by the way. Nice work baby!

My New iMac

I've spent nearly every waking swine infected hour on my new iMac since it arrived Wednesday morning. We were seriously going to leave the plastic on so our new toy wouldn't get swine flu all over it but when I peeled it back just to peek I had to take it off. Isn't it pretty?!

This thing is exactly what they advertise. A beast of a machine that is also beautiful. The problem is that we spent $1500 bucks on a machine on the basis that we knew how to use the iPod. (ok so we did more research than that). The point is that it is amazing...and would be cooler still if I could use it!

I grew up on pc's. I remember my first computer was a Tandy 1000 complete with a gaming "joystick". Yeeeaaahh. So I am literally programmed by Microsoft. The basics of the Mac are not difficult as soon as you figure out the tweaks such as the non existent right click. WTF?

I am currently working on Freeway 5 web design software and it too is cool but apparently designed by little Jimmy Neutron himself. I find it akin to Adobe Photoshop in that there are a million different things you can do with it and that damn thing about having the proper layer highlighted. That gets frustrating when you aren't used to it and keep tweaking the wrong parts. Especially when you are impatient by nature.

Click, tweak. Click, tweak. Click, tweak!

Ugh. So anyway I'm getting back to my tutorials now to keep learning this mess. Anyone else made the switch, please, a little encouragement!

P.S. I have survived the awful swine flu and am happy to report that I'm starting to feel better and symptoms are clearing up. Woo hoo!

LOST

Anyone a LOST fan? I love that show and I miss it. I never watched it when it came out but one day a couple of weeks after the baby was born Campeon stumbled upon it and decided to give it a whirl. We started watching together online from episode one and got hooked.

Normally I hate sci-fi. Like really, hate it. But Lost is kind of cool because it takes you just out far enough before it reels you back into reality. Its also like a big mind game...just what the hell is actually going on? Hard to tell.

So anyway, we went a little crazy and opted out of sleep almost entirely for 2 or 3 weeks watching episode after episode, season after season. Didn't we have anything better to do? No. Remember I said I just had the baby? You know, the whole 6 week dark night of sexlessness? So nope, watching Lost was definitely our best option to keep us entertained and help pass the time.

Come 4am, fighting our eyelids from closing and eager to start "just one more" episode of season 5 we found that, like the island, it had been moved and was in itself now lost. Boo. Now what?

My question is, where the hell did that creep Jacob move season five of Lost? We want to watch it. Its not available online and you can't even buy it at the store. I need answers ABC!

Elote, Elote!

Mmmm. Tonight we build a fire in the pit in the backyard and roasted 24 elotes. Elotes are corn on the cobs done up mexican style with mayonaise, queso seco, lime and chili powder. You can boil them but tonight we all agreed that fire roasted totally changes the flavor and is far superior. You can get them a lot of times for a couple bucks from someone selling them on a cart.

Now, every single person (myself included) who we have ever offered one to has been grossed out and less than enthusiastic about trying it.

And, every single person who we have ever offered one to was sold within two bites. They are freakin delicious!

If you ever see someone selling them in the street get one! You will be hooked. They are a such a treat. Keep in mind they are very messy but the key to enjoying it fully is to just mash away at it regardless of all the stuff ALL over your hands and face. Think kid enjoying an ice cream.

Mmmm. Mmmm. So good!

When I Grow Up

When you were little what did you want to be? Seriously. No holds bar here, what was it? A policeman, astronaut? Did you turn out to be that?

I wanted to be a teacher and a writer. As long as I can remember.

I am currently neither. At least by occupation. I was thinking of this the other day and really gave pause to it. No I do not teach or write as a job. However I quickly realized that I do teach. My children (and occasionally my husband) everyday. Everything I do and say is guiding them in the way they should go. So in that sense, I found new joy in caring for them! Instead of being all emo about not doing something in the exact way that I had thought, I get to do even better and concentrate on a shaping my little girls.

And as you are reading, I do write. Lol. Ok, I know, its lame and to date I have not posted anything noteworthy but who cares. I'm entertained and have a great place to vent. Maybe one day I'll find my artery of thoughts and who knows, could turn it into something more.

For now I do what I do. Making the best of it. Like my pappy always said "wherever you go, there you are". Be here in the moment. Suzi Q Make Do. And enjoy.

And baby, thank you so much for all you do. You encourage me to do what will make me happy. I love being married to you and look forward to all that we will accomplish and become together.

All of my heart,

You, Me, and Dupree

No not the movie but close to it. I'm talking about me, Campeon, and his laptop. Several times this week I woke up in the morning scrunched up and half hanging off my side of the bed. Campeon was right next to me taking the entire middle section with his laptop on the left - with its own pillow. Fantastic.

Here we are with a 4 month old baby (to which people always ask if we are getting any sleep) and the answer is always "yes". Because she sleeps all night in her own crib and loves it that way. So we have plenty of room in our bed and sleep like champs because we are not worrying about rolling over on her.

Until last week.

I don't know why Campeon decided to let his laptop sleep with us but I do know that he did make room for it and took what was left leaving me scrunched and...irritated. WTF babe? Give your Google and now blogging addictions a rest! And I don't mean on your freakin pillow. You better watch that precious little laptop of yours or my large milk filled titties might just roll over in the middle of the night and leak and suffocate your hard drive. That would be tragic.

Flashback Fridays (even though its still thurs): Weird Al

Anyone remember Weird Al Yankovic? I do, had the record. Literally a record. My little brother and I would run around singing his songs and have no idea that they were spins from an original. Ahh to be young.

"I want a new duck. Not a dog or a cat...quack, quack, quack, quack, quack"

haha, good times

FIFA, Wakeboards and Laundry

Today when I drowsily drug myself out of bed I fed my baby and changed her into a new outfit, because it was clean. It must have been a good feeding because shortly thereafter she blew it up, and out, and all over her new outfit leaving, nothing clean.

So I decided I could not put off the mountains of laundry any longer and I started the chores. Except I could barely move because I went wakeboarding yesterday. Bending to pick clothes up, forget it!

You see we went early on a Wednesday so there were only about 4 other boats on the lake and they were all fishing. The water was like glass! It was great so I took advantage and did about 3 more runs than usual and as my skills are improving I did much more edging and jumping and was even comfortable enough to be pulled at a higher speed. Except the last run I did after a couple spiked fruit punch drinks, WOO! I thought I was superwoman and was jumping the wakes and haulin ass across the lake like I was a pro. Ouch. I feel it today.

Anyway for months my husband (Campeon) has been mentioning how he wants to hook up the Xbox to the internet and blah blah, whatever. I had no clue what he was talking about so I would just roll my eyes or walk away. Recently we switched to Comcast and he was able to hook it up. All of the sudden I realize why its called Xbox Live. He is actually playing other people on FIFA. Duh. Now, I'm usually completely disinterested in gaming but this really caught my attention. He has the little headphone thingy so I wanted to listen. HA HA. Its just like the movie "The Breakup" when he is talking shit to the little kid who is kicking his ass. Which by the way was happening to Campeon as well. I was highly entertained by it. However he takes that as a licence to play all the time.

Well I was just here for a break... I'm off with my Suzi SuperMOM cape once more to tackle the remaining laundry, sore muscles and all. While Campeon sits and shouts obscenities at the Fifa game that he is playing... again.

Camping: Round 1

My comment on Stuff White People Like #128: Camping.

Here is a great example of what a lack of running water for three days looks like:

I am white and I love to camp! My husband however is less fond. He is mexican. A damn white washed mexican if I say so though becuase as you can see he is still concerned that after three days of everything covered in dirt that his nuts are clean.

Tip for the white people. Mexicans will go camping as long as:

1. There is at least one seperate cooler packed with beer and

2. A bottle of tequilla.

3. Its probably a good idea to also bring some Vicente Fernandez or Menudo for campfire music as they will not be feeling the B-52's.

Please note: they WILL bring along their little yap dog chiuahua who is likely to pee on your tent and will bark all day cuz he thinks he's Kujo. Do not try to tell the dog to be quiet because he only speaks spanish, and therefore will not understand you. They do however, tend to understand the back of your foot up their ass. Please wait until nightfall before any such corrections.

A bad habit

Oh my we have started a bad habit my husband and I. We have forgone sex and conversation for blogging!

We lay in bed with the tv on whatever it lands on, laptops in hand and we listen to the clicks and clacks of keys being punched. There will be an occasional giggle if we are reading a blog.

Then, when we are done, we read each others blog to see what the other is up to. Power down, and say good night.

WTF?! Is this normal?

Wtf.blogs.com.shit like that

So the more time I spend on the blogshpere the more and more amazing blogs I find. Which leaves me wondering, will mine ever be that cool? How can I possibly attain such greatness?

And the Blogher convention? Cool! Sounds like a ball. If it turns out I don't have what it takes or whatever I'm good with that but I'm fascinated by the whole "billboard in the desert" thing turned urban gathering, viaaaa?

So my question goes out, yes in the desert, to anyone who may be passing by, how did you do it? What is this all really about? Friends, venting, laughter? What inspired you to start blogging? Did you like it when people started reading or did it become added pressure? And mostly, how do you find the time not only to blog but to keep up on reading all the other great blogs?!

By the way thanks to all the bloggers as I am highly entertained by your stuff! And a special shoutout to Captain Dumbass for following. A gesture of encouragement I'm sure but appreciated none the less. Its a great day when your fan fare doubles! LOL

Lost in the desert for now,
Suzi Q

Generation X, Y and T?

So today I did the soccer mom thing and sat with the other parents at practice. Ugh. I was dreading it but knew I would have to do it eventually and it was a nice day so what the heck, lets give it a whirl and see who we're dealing with.

First of all they are all at least 10 years older than me which usually equals: cheesy. Plus, there is always at least one mom who mugs because of it. Sorry, don't be butt hurt because I was cute rocking the leg warmers at 5 and well, you wore them for your senior pictures. Those 10 years and 20 some odd pounds are not my fault sister.

Second, I'm generally anti social with people I don't know because I often find that people are fake. I hate being fake. I would seriously rather have someone tell me what they think than pretend about things. Probably more than that, I prefer to say it like it is than act. I am not uptight or snooty and can't stand people who are. Its so draining.

Well whatever, it turns out that they weren't half bad! Yes I did get the mug and the "ahem, no thanks" on my offer to help as team mom but other than that I was pleasantly surprised.

After the usual conversations about the first day of school, team picture day, PTA programs and the oohs and ahhs over my baby girl, one brave mom decided to bring up the subject of snacks. Now generally everyone knows with sports comes snacks. Some damn person at some time decided that little jr. needed a snack as a reward after each game he played. And some other damn person agreed. And now we as parents are obligated to participate in this crap.

About 4 of us agreed that a half time orange slice was fine but the need for a soda and rice krispie treat after the game at 10 in the morning was unnecessary. One mom sat back silent...no doubt stunned by the idea of challenging the snack policy. What the hell were we thinking?!

But oh my we didn't stop there. She went on with this speech about how we are raising the Trophy Generation. This generation of kids who grow up and can't do crap for themselves because we do EVERYTHING for them and don't allow them to experience natural consequences, such as...

LOSING. Losing is part of playing. If you are afraid of losing then don't play. If you can't bust your ass hard enough to win, thats OK. It happens. You will not always be the best. BUT, do not expect to be rewarded anyway! I told my daughter (who is 8) that at the end of the season if they don't win that she will not get a medal or trophy anyway, even if the rest of her team does. She looked a little concerned and asked "but I thought this was for fun?".

"Yes honey you are right. But winning is fun. So is learning. So when you don't win its time to look at what you did wrong or just what you can do better. Whether you win or lose you take it and learn from it. That is fun."

Last season she played soccer she thought she got a medal no matter what. I explained that she only got a medal if her team placed 1st or 2nd in the division and that every game they played counted toward that placement. Boy you should have seen that girl play after that! She played with a drive and determination that was previously absent.

NOW, I feel it completely appropriate to recognize a player or team with a paper award for improvement or good effort. Thats cool. I also think there is an age that "manning up" on the snacks and participation medal crap is appropriate and one that its not. I think that little little kids still lack confidence and look to their parents for reinforcement. Like 6 and under. They are more impressionable and should have a positive experience in sports so that they actually want to continue (that doesn't mean no rules or consequences). But after that the kitten gloves should come off and truth be told. Sorry, but little johnny is probably not the next Pele. And thats OK. Just don't have unrealistic expectations and undeserved rewards. Please people, just explain to your kid whats going on. He is not the best. Maybe because he started late, he hasn't practiced
as much or maybe he is just better at something else. Even still, that is not a reason to stop playing. My daughter is not that great. Seriously bad sometimes. But I tell her to go, pay attention, learn, try hard and have fun with it.

When we unjustly reward our kids and worse, shield them from natural consequences (shit like, when you play sports, you are likely to make contact with opponents and yes, you may get hit with the ball...more than once) we create a sorry excuse for a decent human being. Someone with zero self discipline and zero respect for authority. Mainly because they see their stupid parents constantly trying to challenge rules. "little johnny shouldn't get a red card for shoving that kid and kicking him on the ground! he didn't know, he didn't mean to, the other kid touched him with his shoulder during play." Whatever.

If the kid really did piss him off to that point well its up to you to teach your kid to stand up for themselves or not (another subject I guess) but do teach them to be prepared to willingly and respectfully accept the consequences of their actions. Whatever they choose. Duh.

Maybe it was our parents who started this crap with us, I don't know. But somewhere along the line we ended up with a bunch of people who are afraid of their damn kids. Afraid to piss em off, to give em a good old fashion ASS WHOOPIN.

Lets raise some hardcore kids who have the discipline and integrity to get some shit done. And yes while a long track later, it starts with things like rice krispies and participation medals. And honey, yes I never thought the day would come that I would agree with you on this but 6 episodes in a row of The Academy got me thinking.

Why I havent blogged in 2 weeks

Ok. Just to get this out of the way for my over anilitical mind.

1. hangover
2. baby daddy drama
3. court trips
4. sick like death
5. pissed at my husband
6. church with much reflection
7. writing to my husband about why i'm pissed
8. actually working some hours
9. wakeboarding
10. freaking out because i have all this to blog about and i'm falling behind!

My husband and I just had this long conversation about how I have to be perfect and so if I don't have time for perfection I just won't do things. True. And, even if I do actually get a blog off the ground I will edit it and re-edit it until I have it just where I like it. Where as he will spout off whatever comes to mind and type way too fast and leave out critical words so that his shit doesn't even make sense. I tell him that it doesn't and when he actually takes a minute to read it he realizes that he did in fact leave out words. I tell him that is exactly the reason that I like to take my time and do it right. This argument runs through everything we do. I'm convinced it always will.

Ok, we were catching up on episodes of The Office yesterday, and we were laughing hysterically at the one about ethics. I will post the link because you have to watch it! It is us in a freakin nutshell, especially at work with each other. Funny as hell. If you want to get to know us, this is it! I am Holly, he is Michael...right down to him helping me to get me into a relationship that I didn't know about. LOL That is pretty much what happened...watch it!

THE OFFICE: BUSINESS ETHICS
http://www.hulu.com/watch/38492/the-office-business-ethics

Julie and Julia the movie

hhhaaaaahhhh. exhale.

I loved this movie. As I knew I would. I took my little girl to see it and she loved it too. Shes 8 and she loves to cook. Or at least help me with the chocolate chip pancakes.

=( I do not really cook. I wish I did. I have wished it for years. I get into phases where I will try lots of recipies but in general we eat lots of fast food.

I knew this lady once named Norma. She was from Bermuda I think. That chick made the best food ever. It was to die for. And she did it so effortlessly. Like, we would have roasted duck for an afternoon snack. No big deal for her. Mmmmmm.

Anyway, the point is that from that time I loved the way the food tasted and how it made me feel to eat such delicious things. And I especially loved how good food is such a great way to bring people together. I mean, people really open up and feel comfortable and comforted with delicious foods to share. I wanted that. I wanted to entertain, to cook for my husband and family and friends. To teach my children how to cook. To have friends over who oohed and ahhed over the grub, who went home fat and joyous. Somehow its a blessing to be able to provide that. I think it has something to do with being a women. That need and desire to feed and nurture.

I love to set a beautiful table. I love to plate the food and sauces in little dishes and platters. I love smelling the aromas. I love to create something new. I love to see my little girl come alive when I ask her to help me in the kitchen. She is all about it.

One of the problems I find now is that my husband likes Mexican food and flamin hot cheetos. I love mexican food too but I want to cook all sorts of things. He is satisfied with a microwaved quesidilla or a pb&j. I love italian food and he hates ricotta cheese. Ugh. I am greatful though that he will try and eat a little of whatever I make. He is very good about that.

Ramble on...

I loved the movie because I relate very much to Julie. I often find myself wondering whats next. I never finish anything either. She was really ambitious though. I try to get myself to do one new recipe a week and usually don't even do that. So all in all my point is (I think)(I'm getting tired and not sure what I'm talking about anymore) that the movie was good and inspired me to continue on to reach my goal to be able to cook how I want to. And to finish something. I have just enrolled in school, again, to finish up my degree. It will probably take me 4 years (for my AS, lol) but thats ok. Like my daddy always said, "4 years is a long time but its going to go by no matter what. You can have a degree at the end or not." I say thats wisdom.

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

"I'm ADVENTUROUS"

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 =(

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.

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.

Selah.

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.




Cool Links
http://www.motherhooduncensored.net/

http://heblogs-sheblogs.blogspot.com/

http://elearningtech.blogspot.com/2006/10/top-ten-reasons-to-blog-and-top-ten.html