Fail safe

Someone found this lawn shark sculpture online and immediately though of my husband.  Because of course. So it was posted on his facebook wall and when I saw it my visceral response was: that is awesome and I want it! And when I see the $180 price tag I thought: totally doable.

The more and more I looked at it, the more and more I laughed and wanted it. And then it dawned on me this would be the coolest anniversary gift (traditional year four gift is fruit and/or flowers, so I say a lawn sculpture legit falls into the "plants" category) I almost whipped out the credit card right then then and there.

But somewhere in all that excitement I didn't do exactly that, so there had to be a reason. I just couldn't find one on my own. So I showed the garden shark it to my coworkers and asked them to find me a reason.
Josh: it's impractical
me: but it amuses me highly, so I don't care. Next reason.
Josh: hmm, well, it is $180 for something very impractical.
me: still don't care. Keep trying.
Josh: do you even have the space for it?  
me: yup.
Josh: your HOA?
me: screw 'em!
Josh: well ok, I've got nothing.
me: ok, thanks for trying. ~~I turn to another coworker~~ Lauren. I want to get this for my husband and I cannot find a reason not to. Josh tried but couldn't come up with one.

Lauren looks at the image for a minute, and says:

Lauren: those teeth look really sharp. Not toddler friendly.
me: yes! Perfect reason! Not safe for the baby! Thank you!
--pause--
me: Oh. I just completely failed at being a parent didn't I?

Math is Hard

At least 1992 Teen Talk Barbie thought so. (Apparently the actual saying is "math class is tough!" But "math is hard!" is funnier and Barbie has a pink convertible and a dream home, so, yeah, I'm going to make fun of her a little bit) Now my math skills can get rusty like anything else if you use them, but in general math is something I "get" and isn't an impossible task.

Unless. It involves the 1990's.
I will explain.

We were going through the materials at work that hadn't circulated in 2+ years. Some stuff was just not on the shelf, some were outdated and some were just plain terrible books that should have never been printed in the first place.

One of the books that circulated in some time was the book Kids, Computers, and Homework. It was the last copy in the entire system, but it was also one of those outdated materials I was referring to earlier. Even with it's awesome graphics I couldn't see a reason to keep it in circulation.

me: When was that published?
coworker: 1995. There probably isn't any relative information in this thing.
me: 1995? ~I quickly do the math~ Yeah, that was nearly 10 years ago. There might have been a few changes in computers in that time.  
coworker: Ten? You mean 20 years ago...
me: ::pause:: ~quickly do the math again~ Shit! You're right. What the hell?! How are the 90s not 10 years ago? Because I remember the 90s and I swear that was only 10 years ago.
coworker:  I don't know, I remember them too.
me: I seriously don't understand how someone born in 1992 can legally drink. Math is hard when it comes to the 90s.

Pintrest Fail

My husband and I are both birthday people. Meaning, we both enjoy celebrating them and the attention/affection that comes along with them as well. Well, dr soc's birthday is February 19 and since that was a work day, I wanted to do a little something special so his students and coworkers would know. The night before I had the great idea for him to bring treats to class, so I was going to make chocolate covered mint oreos. Melt chocolate, stick a cake pop stick in the filling, dip, done.

Except.

If the cake pop sticks weren't in the exact center of the creme filling it would pop off the cookie halves. And the melted chocolate was too thick and would trap the smushed back-together cookie. In addition to that, since I wanted 3/4ths to the whole cookie covered in chocolate, when I spooned it over the cookie, the chocolate falling from the spoon was much more of a "plopping" than a smooth waterfall-like cascade. The uneven somewhat circular blobs of chocolate with cake pop sticks at random angles were a far cry from pintrest idea I had in my head. Rather than beat myself up about it, I scrapped whole treats for the class idea and brought the tasty but ugly cookies to work. 

And besides, I had done this to his office door before coming home

Birthday Bostons!

The full view - hehehe!

So I wasn't too upset about my pintrest fail when I knew that was waiting to surprise him the next day.
Here's a closeup of the two pictures that planted the decorate his door idea in my head:

Happy birthday indeed! SNARF!!!

 And this one:

Dancing Boston is feeling it!

And then we met for dinner at one of our favorite places and I gave him a shark beenie baby to add to his office menagerie. The tiny octopus and wind-up dinosaur were getting lonely after all. 

Milk Sandwiches

So we're getting real snow in North Carolina and the city is shutting down. The schools and libraries closed early and both have already call a snow day for tomorrow. Turns out you get just as excited about a snow day as an adult as you did when you were a kid. Well, at least you do when you have a salary so you don't worry about your paycheck being short, don't have to figure out childcare* plans and the only person you need to entertain is yourself. I'm pretty sure I'll change my tune to that last part after we have kids and a snow day means: oh crap what am I going to do to entertain the minions?**

Since Mike is grew up in Northeast Ohio snow was a matter of when not if. I grew up in Kentucky and we didn't get snow that often, but I know to keep a snow brush in my car and to charge all my battery powered devices just in case we loose power. So whenever snow is mentioned in the south, I always make a crack about needing to buying bread and milk. (We usually actually do need both though, Mike goes through both really fast!) Anyway, yesterday it was just a possibility of snow and everyone was freaking the fck out. I needed to run by the pharmacy so I was going to grab dinner too on my way home from class. I was going to get Panera but on on my way there I passed the grocery store. I thought: cheaper, better chance of leftovers and faster than waiting for take out. Yes. Good plan.


Yeah no. That was a grave misjudgement on my part. Because I forgot about every other southerner's need to make milk sandwiches whenever the S-word is mentioned.

*We're really lucky that and that the industries we work in if the kids have a snow day, more than likely at least one of us will have a snow day as well.
**Crafts. So. Many. Crafts.***
***But no glitter. Glitter is not allowed in my house.  

Some Rules Are Meant to be Broken

I don't pretend to have a green thumb, but I thought about trying my hand at a small little vegetable garden this spring. Just a little 3'x6' raised bed garden to grow peppers and a few herbs, and maybe a zucchini plant if I'm feeling particularly daring. Just so I don't have to spend a small fortune on fresh produce all the time (basil is expensive yo!).  I looked at a few gardening websites, learned the basic how-to's, and mentioned the idea to Mike. He was down for it. But then, recalling how bitchy the HOA was about the position our non-existent basketball hoop, he figured we should check the guidelines of the neighborhood just in case.

Section 2.12 Additional landscaping:
"Additional landscaping must be approved in writing by the MC (management company) using the application of exterior modification prior to the change unless it is within a 3 foot radius on the home. Gardens are not permitted."

However, I can totally have a trampoline as long as I apply for the application of exterior modification and place it in the center rear of the back yard. Which I learned from section 2.2 Backyard Play Equipment, Trampolines and Basketball Goals (the same place with the rules we so blatantly ignored with our non existent basketball hoop).

I'm so mad at the ridiculousness of it all I could spit. I can't have a small garden to grow food, but I can have a death trap (albeit, a super fun one) as long as I get the right papers in? I mean, really? WTF? Of course, now that I can't have one I want one really bad if only to piss the HOA off. I can do this one of several ways.

1. Carry on with my original plan which was to build and plant the thing, and see how long it takes to get another nasty-gram. (If they are going to send another nasty-gram we better as hell deserve it this time.)
2. Plant the garden along the entire back side of my house but only extend it 2'-9" from the house as to not violate the 3' radius clause. Of course, shade from the house isn't optimal for growing, but it's for the principle of it!
3. Painstakingly detail the garden plans to the point of absurdity (for example: will be so many feet by feet, which is so many centimeters by centimeters and will be placed x feet and y centimeters from the house, top soil consisting of 10% this, 20% that and 70% so-and-so will raise no higher than 24" off the ground, etc.) Then apply for the exterior modification permit and have them approve the ridiculous. 
4. Plant everything in flower pots and containers and cover my entire yard with those. Just don't move more than 2 to the front yard if they are dead. No ugly and/or dead plants in the front yard per hoa orders.
5. Or, forget the garden and just bitch.

Options 2, 3 and 4 are more work that I intend to actually do. Option 1 is a viable possibility because I don't think any neighbors would actually complain over a vegetable garden, especially if we give them some of the results from it. And we could always go with a mea culpa and apply for the exterior modification after the nasty-gram. But it will more than likely be option 5, because it's just a small garden. But that doesn't make the situation any less ridiculous and me less bitchy about it.

Distraction

We currently have our 2 dogs and we don't want a 3rd dog. Seriously, no third dog. However, we do plan on getting another one after Bailey and Jules have left us. And Mike wants that future dog to be a puppy.

I do not want a puppy. Not now, not ever again after the wringer that is Bailey and I am adamant about that.
But! I do want a baby. And since everyone but me is having one (seriously), my baby fever has gone through the roof.  My husband is trying to tamp it down but he's pretty much failing miserably.

However, I have become somewhat addicted to pintrest (which I really should stop because some of that shit is bananas), and post bubble of tulle I have been looking at the animals page. And whenever I see a puppy picture too cute for words (so, you know, all of them), I squeal: "I want it! I want it! Let's get this one now!" Knowing full well that we are not going to get a puppy. Not ever, but especially not now.

Mike's reaction is always an emphatic: "NO."
So my reaction is always to fain disappointment with a sad: -sigh- Fine. But then I cheer up with a bright: "Oh! Let's have a baby then!"

I may be trying distract my husband from getting a puppy by convincing him to have a baby.
So far my plan is failing.

Details

Don't know if any of you knew this, but I'm planning a wedding.  And weddings have lots of components and lots of detail.  Lots of details. But fear not my wedding planning follower friends! Not only am I an hyper-organizer and party planner by nature, I have everything under control.

However, in all my attention to detail, I did miss a few things here and there. Such as: 

1. Forgetting to add a few names to the guest list. 
2. Forgetting to put an rsvp/info card in some of the invites (umm, yeah, if you got an invite without that, my bad. Please rsvp anyway)
3. Misspelling several of my guests' last names.  So many that I've made a note on my hyper-detailed spread sheet of who I've misspelled and plan to apologize to at the wedding

And the best one of all:

1. Getting the address of the venue wrong* on the invite.

Oy vay. With all these mistakes, thank goodness I'm not doing this** again!

*I have the number right but listed the cross street. fortunately the venue is on a corner, the bulk of the guest will take the shuttles were' providing there, and those driving themselves are familiar with Lexington.    
**Until Sharktopus and Dinocroc get married that is. By the time they get married I will have either forgotten all the delightful stresses and diy projects I did, and/or be senile.

I know better

Thirteen pounds of tissue paper was just delivered to my house. Let the crafting begin!
However, before said 13 lbs was delivered, I knew I had to practice what I would be making so as not to have a hot glue mess adorning my wedding day.  So I bought some tissue paper packs from the dollar store to practice with.  Everything was going according to plan.

Except.

That I had a serious lapse in judgement and bought one (one!) package of tissue paper with glitter.  So now that herpes of crafts is all over my dining room table.

Crafting FAIL.

Jersey

The other night I was way too tired to cook, so we ordered carryout from a little italian place down the street from us.  I went with fettechini alfredo, which is a weakness of mine. I can't say I have a favorite food in general, but I'm always willing to give a fettechini alfredo a shot at a new place.  This place's was pretty good, but also really heavy like a good proper fettechini alfredo should be what with the heavy cream and pound of butter that's in it and all.

After dinner the dryer buzzed, so we head upstairs to fold it (if I don't fold the laundry within 10 minutes of taking it out of the dryer, I don't fold the laundry). And for reasons I don't know/remember, Mike makes a jersey shore reference and starts to make up his own version of a jersey shore* dance.  However, yours truly didn't think his version was as slutty or idiotic enough for it to be a true jersey shore dance. So I decide to show him my take on it, thrashing around like they do in the clips I see on The Soup.**

Then, having thoroughly shaken myself and my stomach content around like an idiot, I realize, quite quickly I might add, that was not my best idea.  Much like Jersey shore in general is.

*This is an extremely rare case of pop culture where Mike knows more about it than me.** By that I mean he just knows knows the names of the ompaloompas on the show, where as I just call them ompaloompahs.  Other than that, we know nothing further.
** This is the furthest extent that I watch any of Jersey Shore
*** I don't know if I should be proud of him for this or slightly ashamed.

Commission Hell

Mike and I are in the market for a dinning room table. Even though we're hosting Thanksgiving this year (for 9 people, maybe even 10! (my first thanksgiving and I go BIG!)), we're going to wait until after the wedding to furnish our dining room.  In other words, we're not going to get a table now just for the sake of getting a table. The table itself isn't what's all that expensive, it's all the chairs that get you. But anyway, we were in the area of a lot of furniture stores and since we had some time, we popped in a few of them to see what was available.

We didn't have much luck.  The formal dining room isn't something that my generation wants in their house now*.  So all of the dining room sets in the stores were old fashioned rococo massive ornate stuff.  Just because we want a traditional dining room doesn't mean we want traditional furniture in it.  Finding something we both like and isn't exorbitantly priced is going to be more difficult than we thought.**  

The last place we looked at was Haverty's Furniture.  I can't really tell you too much what the furniture there was like because I was too distracted by the sales guy following us around the entire store.  It was so, so creepy and awful.  Mike's actually pushing me to walk faster, and I'm about to grab his hand and run out of there.  We couldn't make snarky comments to each other, let alone even talk to each other without the guy over hearing. We made the mistake of pausing a few seconds at a table and the guy piped in with unsolicited info on the set.  We didn't even want to look anymore since all we could think about was getting the hell out of there.  So that's what we did.  And just to nail that final nail in the creepy coffin, the guy sprints ahead of us to get the door for us as we leave.

It was so awful we're not going back. Which is too bad for them because they were the first store that had furniture we didn't immediately hate.  I know these guys work on commission, but that's no excuse for the creepy! It creates such a toxic environment and the people can sense it. It's not how I want to shop. If I want your help, I'll ask for it. I don't mind working in retail myself, but I have never worked on commission and never will. 

You know the saying: have a good experience, tell 2 people. But have a bad experience, tell 10? Yeah. I'm telling everyone.

*The young pups today also don't register for fine china either. To which I say, that's fine for now, but in 10 years when you are hosting the big family gathering and have no place to seat everyone and no fancy china to serve on, you'll be wishing you had asked for that wedding china.
**Good thing Mike likes to research and will shop and shop and shop. (I told him about library school and in a day he complied a list of at least 10 online programs for me to look into) Though once he decides something, good luck trying to change his mind.

Urban Planning

Lexington did a mad dash to improve the downtown street scape before the World Equestrian Games. So they repaved (thus making me fight the urge to throw up bile every time I left work) and prettied up the sidewalks doing I don't know what.

However, someone in the (urban) planning office did some miscalculations...
Behold.

The traffic lanes before:

The lanes lined up and there were no lines in the intersections because the lanes lined up.

And even though they didn't move any of the buildings' facades (you don't have to be a designer to understand why you can't simply move an entire building), or give us any additional lanes or take any traffic lanes away...

The traffic lanes after:

The lanes clearly don't line up, and they had to put guide lines through the intersections because of it.

Planner fail. (Perhaps they are an Itt tech grad?)

Babysitting

This family comes into work the other night with 5 kids, all of them under the age of 6. Two of these kids are dressed in identical outfits and the same age, so we assume they are twins (either actual or of the Irish variety). The mom's got her hands full with the twins and another kid, while the dad is trying to keep an eye on the rest of the brood. Apparently, he's failing. Because at some point, he hisses to the mom in frustration:

"I can't watch 2 at the same time!"

She didn't say 2 words to him. But the look on her face was probably similar to the look you have on your face right now. Only about 1000 times more pissed off.

Cock Block

My dog is a snuggler. She just loves to curl up next to you and take up as much room as possible. But it's not that she just likes to be against someone, she likes to be between people. Especially if those someones are me and a boy.

When I was with my ex, she always curled up in between us. And that was fine and cute when she was 15 lbs. Even 20 lbs was manageable, we could maneuver around her and then crate her if we wanted to get "close." And when my ex and I were breaking up, I let her sleep there on purpose, because I was constantly pissed at him and I didn't want him near me. And Bailey would without fail, snuggle between us and stretch out, therefore making all not going to happen anyway cuddling impossible.

Even when it's a female friend sharing the couch or relaxing in my bedroom (oh la la I know!), she is upset if you dare take her space. My dr friend stayed over new years eve and we were having a throw back style sleepover with my tiny tv in my bedroom. Were sitting in bed and Bailey is giving us the most annoyed looks, looking at us like, umm, 'scuse me, but you are in MY spot. So she jumps in the middle, circles a few times and plops and stretches her legs as far out as possible.

Over the summer, when Bailey and I were visiting a friend, she did the same thing without the annoyed looks. She just lept into bed and nestled right between us when it was bed time. It was pretty comedic timing actually, she did this right as he was trying to get his arm around me (I was secretly thankful, he had been trying to cuddle with me after dinner and I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but well, not into it). And she's big now so when she snuggles she's high enough on the bed to rule out any sort of intimacy. Then she kicks you in the kidneys when she stretches out just to make a point that she's the only one who gets to snuggle with me. She proceeded to stay there the entire night and I thought to myself, wow, my dog's a pretty effective cock block.

But the most recent libido killer was with dr soc. We had moved to the dog-ok bed and hoped to fall back asleep snuggled up together (like the new couple that we are) along with the dogs being cute and cuddly in there too. No such luck since the girls spent the next hour wrestling each other and jumping on and off the bed. But we attempt to get them both up there and settle down. Jules circles and plops around our shoulders like a cute little dog. Not to be outdone, Bailey finds the sliver of space between dr soc and I, and flops down pushing us to the far corners of the bed. So far that we can't even hold hands through the tangle of spaz dogs and covers . Of course, this made Jules get up and run away, to which Bailey responds by leaping after her and someone's paws got to 2nd base. By this point we realized the cute cuddly sleep with the dogs plan was a fail. So we just let them play and went back to snuggling with just humans.

And Bailey, honey, I love you and you've saved me a couple times there. I appreciate that because you knew what needed to be done in those situations. But I really really like this guy. And if you want to keep playing with his dog, (and I know you do) you have to let us have our own play time. Kay?

False Sense of Security

I would say around 80% of my tank tops have one of those built-in bra things. But let's be honest here, they don't so squat for me. Since I've had roommates, (w/the exception of my fiance), I usually don't leave my bedroom without some sort of support, even if I'm wearing something with a built-in.

But this morning before I even fixed my coffee, Bailey decided she had to go out rightthisveryinstant, and was ringing the bell while blatantly staring at me. (I have her bell trained. Even if she doesn't listen to anything else I say, at least I have that. Admit it, that's cool) Unfortunately for her, I was still in my pj top with only a built-in. Unfortunately for me, I know when she paws the bells with that much gusto, she really has to go and we don't have that kind of time for me to get ready.

Fortunately, it's one of my tighter tanks so there was a false sense of security with it. And I was wearing a few layers over it (my house is cold) so there wasn't much to be seen. So I set my jaw, threw on my coat and thought, here goes.

Not a complete fail, but definitely not a win.

Another Top Ten? 'Eff it.

Since it's the end of another calender year, everyone (including me, see below) feels the need to do a top ten whatever (unless you are Vh-1 who always ups the ante with their 40 most awesomely best/worst something or other)

There is a countdown for everything. Top ten apps of the year, top 10 newcomers to movies/tv/music, top ten new gadgets, the best meltdowns, best comebacks, the news moments, bla bla bla. Sometimes the top ten is actually a worst ten, which can be interesting, so there's that. And I admit, these list are a little guilty pleasure of mine.

But since were entering the year 2010, there seems to be this urge to do not only a top ten of the year, but a top ten of the decade. Decade, as in the past 10 years. ::insert groan of unwilling participant::

I can do the end of the year thing. It requires little memory space and invests little long term interest. But the decade? Yeah, I stopped trying to remember things July 14 2003. Something about margaritas and my 21st birthday....

I suck

I failed 2 of my 3 exams.

Not just bad ominous feeling think I failed. I have the answer key. I failed.

Great way to start the semester huh?

New Name

So turns out, there's a little glitch in my marry someone in the top-half of the alphabet. I've always intended on taking my husband's name when I got married. Call me old fashioned, but I'm happy to do so. It was just a matter of if I was going to drop my middle or maiden name. (I swear my ex puffed with pride when I told him I was legally taking his name. That made it more real to him maybe?)

In reality I just planed on tacking on the new last name and calling it a day. So legally I would have 4 names (because the hyphen is bull sh*t), but I would sign things with first, maiden and hubby name. (I know it would be easier to just say the actual names, but you're always a google search away, and there are certain people you just don't want reading your life. Course there's the argument I shouldn't write/post anything I don't want some one to read.) I would still have all my names, I just wouldn't say/sign my middle one. Which is what I do now anyway, so I would just have 2 "middle" names I didn't say. Sorta.

Currently, my initials are SAT. Yes, like the test or sat as in past tense of sit. And when I get married my new initials would be ST-top half of the alphabet. But turns out I cannot marry a D or an I. Because then I end up as: STD or STI. (and SAD isn't much better either)

Yeah. Fail

Never again

I'm in the locker room at the gym, and my mind's 1000 other places, because I'm breaking down my day into half hour increments. I start absentmindedly pulling stuff out of my bag and first think: pew, I'm fabreezing this thing tonight. And then I notice I'm missing something. Oh sh*t, did I not pack a sports bra? I dig through my (stinky) bag just to make sure (fully focused now-I am a camera), and sure enough, no sports bra. So I stand there half dressed for a few minutes debating what to do. Run anyway in my regular one? But...owie. And not to mention I'll get stinky/sweaty in it and have to wear it to my next class too. Do I say screw running today and go to the library to do homework? But then I'll have to run extra long tomorrow...and I just got here. To run or not to run, that is the question. I decide I'll run anyway, but I won't run the full 5 miles I have planed and take it easy so I don't sweat as much.

FAIL. Oh. My. GOD. FAIL

Pain, stupid unnecessary pain. And I was sweating extra in some areas, so not cool. (maybe my body was trying to spite myself?) But I figured since I was gross, I may as well I run 4 miles (instead of the 3 to take it easy), and I threw in an abs/arm/back/extra leg stuff (2 words: scissor kicks. 2 more: f*cking A!)) for good measure. Yep, I was nice and sweaty. (so not nice)

I had time to take a shower at the gym, but the sweaty undergarment really did have to go back on. Quite possibly making the shower null and void. I made an attempt to thwart/combat it by using deodorant in a few key areas. Maybe the coconut shampoo and baby powder sent was enough to cover it temporarily? I don't wear deodorant every day (it keeps your skin healthy if you don't, and I shower every morning so it's not like I'm not clean.) But I figured this particular situation warranted it.

Match fail

Match.com, you have slipped. They send me new matches every 3 days or so (perhaps I should change that to less annoying), and today's first match:

• looks like Kfed. NO.
• Has a kid. NO
• And has never been married (I want my own children, not someone else's bastard child)
• Smokes

Fail
I think match is getting pissy with me, becasue apparently I have email but I can't even check it because I won't pay for the service. And someone winked but I can't find out who either. But they are being all pushy girlfriend and are telling me to take the plunge (ie, pay) and wink back! Umm, no. I wasn't going to pay anything to begin with, but if they keep sending me that bussiness listed above, they are just killing the miniscule chance they had at my credit card to begin with.