I love clear coffee mugs (ccm). I mean...I really adore them. I can't quite put my finger on the draw to them, but it's there and it is pretty intense (I suppose). My last ccm broke almost over a year ago and I was literally heartbroken. I had picked it up at a local Dollar store and it wasn't an item they had kept in stock. Just like that *snaps fingers* I was suddenly being punished to a life of having to drink my coffee from ceramic mugs. That is, until the other day when Mel and I were shopping at our local WalMart (kid less..it was AWESOME!) and I spotted them CLEAR COFFEE MUGS out of the corner of my eye as we were walking pass them. I stopped immediately and let out a big SQUEE of excitement and did a little hoppy dance thing over to them. Immediately I grabbed two and hugged them close to my body. Mel's fits of laughter caused a break in my trance of pure delight and I promptly put them into my cart. All that excitement made me have to detour to the bathroom. Upon arrival we had noticed the door was propped wide open, Mel hinted towards the possibility of it being cleaned. "That would be just my luck" I thought as I walked in to investigate. Nope, the propped door was just a huge invite to enter. So I turned around to tell Mel that the coast was clear by twirling around, lifting one foot off the ground, throwing my arms out in a showman type of way (spirit fingers) and singing "nooooo". Only to find that she was nowhere in sight, 3 other people however found my little display of showmanship to be somewhat disturbing..fuckers!
I have this uncontrollable urge to buy things in even numbers. Even when I know I will only need 1, I can't help myself and I buy 2. My ultimate argument for this is that, next time I will have the 1. I am not sure when and where this started, to be honest I hadn't even realized it was something I did until one day someone pointed it out to me. Last week I needed to get some limes for a tea recipe Ant was interested in and a wing recipe I was working on. I had gathered my limes and started to walk away when I realized I had mindlessly added to my bag by the twos. Feeling a little wild, I went back and grabbed one extra lime. Throughout the store I felt a little irked about it..one extra lime? It felt so wrong. At the checkout the teller interrupted me trying to get a handle on the kids by asking "11 limes? That's how many you want?" "What?" I had asked suddenly feeling like I shouldn't have grabbed the one extra lime..I mean who does that? "You wanted 11 limes?" he asked again. Feeling pressured I confessed "I am going outside of the box and buying odd numbers today, I feel totally liberated." "But you did want 11?" he replies. What is he doing? Yes I want 11, I want that odd number of limes doesn't it look like I want the odd number? After all I put and odd number in there. What is he some sort of even number police captain? Have I been mindlessly following a regime all along? *looks around curiously* "Yes....11, it's what I want" I respond sheepishly. "Okay, just making sure that was the amount you intended to buy. You'd be surprised to know how many people don't realize how much fruit they are bagging until they get to the checkout." He assures me. I am not sure about buying in odd numbers anymore..it was a pretty intense situation.
Today's SOTD is brought to you by the lovely weather we are having...it's a beautiful day, let's all enjoy it.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
4 Things I Hate About You
I hate spiders, I fear spiders. I also fear/hate their webs. I have a bit of delusional arachnophobia, in the sense that I cannot kill one in complete fear that it's posse will hunt my ass down and collect retribution on the death of their loved one. You know those bitches tend to gang up. Last week I spotted the most humongous spider I have ever seen, it was a bit of a cross between an octopus and a hermit crab on a web. A thick sticky web no doubt..the fucker. Naturally I hid in the house and waited for Ant to take care of it. And he did, but he left it there dead dangling in it's own web. I was going to take a picture of it for you guys, but I was scared the flash of my camera would shock some life into it.
A couple of days ago I noticed that the spider was gone. It completely disappeared. I searched all over for it's lifeless corpse but it was nowhere to be found. Fighting my natural urge to think that it's family carried it off for a proper burial while discussing the plan of action to take on us..I decided to believe (for the time being) that a bird had gobbled it up as a tasty, yet poisonous, snack...poor bird. I felt pretty good about that, until this morning when I found a huge spider in the middle of the doorway in our downstairs bathroom. Looking like a younger version of the Octocrab previously mentioned. Having just been in that bathroom last night while plucking away at my eyebrows, I knew that bastard was awaiting my return trip to get me. Damn it..why didn't Ant put the Octocrab into an iron bowl and take it to the middle of the field, burn it and bury it 8 ft deep like I had asked..why did he have to leave it there for it's family to find?
Panicking I grabbed the shop vac and went after it. My hands were shaking violently, causing me to miss (completely) the spider dead center of the web. It took off to the corner of the door way throwing it's front legs up in the air in a "bring it" fashion. I spun in circles not know what to do, I knew that I had to bring it or get broughted later down the road. The broom was at the other end of the house, getting to it would mean that I would have to pass the spider and risk the chance of it jumping at me. Hell to the no, I am not going that way. Being the super chicken that I am, I went outside to get to the other end of the house for the broom. Luckily just outside the door was a dust mop, wet from the sprinkler. "Hooray" I thought, "I will smash and drown it all at once." Knocking it down, I did just that. But...I don't know where the body is and now I am terrified.
To fix this I decided we are going to hire a pest control service to take care of that shit. Yes..now EVERYTHING must die. And I am fairly certain I will not come to feel any sorrow for the loss of these daily terrors. Much unlike the time when my dad had decided to get humane mouse traps when I was a kid. After a long late night chat with a "Grandfather" mouse my dad had decided that he couldn't stand to kill anymore "mice children". Apparently "Grandfather Mouse" had bridged the gap of rodents and humans by relating to my father the livelihood of children and their need for prosperity. After expressing great sorrow of having to see his own children die at the hands of our family, my dad gave his word to no longer take anyone of their lives again. Sending us all into tears the following day when retelling to us the death and destruction we had caused these inferior creatures.
Yes, I don't believe any "Grandfather" spider will have the ability to deter my wrath. So to you, the spider nation residing in my house, I say "You might want to speak with your doctor about other options available":
A couple of days ago I noticed that the spider was gone. It completely disappeared. I searched all over for it's lifeless corpse but it was nowhere to be found. Fighting my natural urge to think that it's family carried it off for a proper burial while discussing the plan of action to take on us..I decided to believe (for the time being) that a bird had gobbled it up as a tasty, yet poisonous, snack...poor bird. I felt pretty good about that, until this morning when I found a huge spider in the middle of the doorway in our downstairs bathroom. Looking like a younger version of the Octocrab previously mentioned. Having just been in that bathroom last night while plucking away at my eyebrows, I knew that bastard was awaiting my return trip to get me. Damn it..why didn't Ant put the Octocrab into an iron bowl and take it to the middle of the field, burn it and bury it 8 ft deep like I had asked..why did he have to leave it there for it's family to find?
Panicking I grabbed the shop vac and went after it. My hands were shaking violently, causing me to miss (completely) the spider dead center of the web. It took off to the corner of the door way throwing it's front legs up in the air in a "bring it" fashion. I spun in circles not know what to do, I knew that I had to bring it or get broughted later down the road. The broom was at the other end of the house, getting to it would mean that I would have to pass the spider and risk the chance of it jumping at me. Hell to the no, I am not going that way. Being the super chicken that I am, I went outside to get to the other end of the house for the broom. Luckily just outside the door was a dust mop, wet from the sprinkler. "Hooray" I thought, "I will smash and drown it all at once." Knocking it down, I did just that. But...I don't know where the body is and now I am terrified.
To fix this I decided we are going to hire a pest control service to take care of that shit. Yes..now EVERYTHING must die. And I am fairly certain I will not come to feel any sorrow for the loss of these daily terrors. Much unlike the time when my dad had decided to get humane mouse traps when I was a kid. After a long late night chat with a "Grandfather" mouse my dad had decided that he couldn't stand to kill anymore "mice children". Apparently "Grandfather Mouse" had bridged the gap of rodents and humans by relating to my father the livelihood of children and their need for prosperity. After expressing great sorrow of having to see his own children die at the hands of our family, my dad gave his word to no longer take anyone of their lives again. Sending us all into tears the following day when retelling to us the death and destruction we had caused these inferior creatures.
Yes, I don't believe any "Grandfather" spider will have the ability to deter my wrath. So to you, the spider nation residing in my house, I say "You might want to speak with your doctor about other options available":
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Happy 4th
Here's a little twist in history, brought to you by the Whitest Kids You Know:
Hope everyone has a fun and safe 4th!!!
Hope everyone has a fun and safe 4th!!!
Sunday, June 28, 2009
TDW Random Topic Round 3
The Daily Wit posted 15 random topics for round 3 last week. These topics were SO random and terrifying that I had decided that I probably wouldn't participate this time around, when suddenly tonight a story unfolded. Not a very good story mind you, but a story nonetheless. Now that I have finished, I am eager to read Round 3 stories posted on other blogs (The Daily Wit, Rubbish and Travellinbaen)..please let me know if you have participated in this round. Thanks! Also..The Daily Wit created a seperate page for these writing series, visit it here.
Ugh, I absolutely despise the food court at the mall. I mean the mall itself makes me sick, as it is just a cornerstone for rich girls to discover the miracles of 'daddy’s' credit card. Unfortunately, the food court is the only place to get a decent Chicago style pizza...odd right? Where one could easily avoid suffering through a food court outing by ordering to go, I have my girlfriends annoyingly insisting to make a day of it. How this at all feels like a worthwhile experience to them leaves me in a state of total discombobulation.
During the course of “enjoying” our meal we somehow end up discussing the subtle differences between zucchini and cucumbers, outside of the clearly obvious distinctions I feel uncomfortable with this topic. The girls all know about my embarrassment behind purchasing cucumbers alone. This is an obvious ploy to redden my cheeks so I turn my attention elsewhere. Which is surprisingly easy to do at the mall…shocking I know.
A couple of tables over are a group of loud rambunctious boys, each wearing team shirts the Bulls, the Bears and the Skunks, obviously local teams. It’s hard for me to understand why they would be so willing to try and out do each other with answers to why did the zombie cross the road questions, yeah apparently the chicken is SO yesterday. Who am I to judge, anyway, my table is currently talking about subtle differences between vegetables for crying out loud. Wait is it a fruit? Whatever. The boys slowly build up from “to get to the other side” to “to get some cheesy puffs and watch Bill and Ted” to “to eat Ben Stein and free all the zombie slaves.” This quickly led into more graphic zombie eating habits.
Suddenly feeling disinterested with the boy’s conversation I decided to regain consciousness with the talk at my own table. Still on the vegetables, honestly how long can this one topic go? Tapping into my all things I random I say “#367 bribe old women with breakfast coupons to purchase shampoo at a senior rate.” “What?!” they respond collectively through laughter. “1001 ways to buy shampoo” I suggest without budging any further.
The sound of hoots and howling gave me the perfect escape of having to defend my randomness. Finding the instigator of said calls was easy to spot, a lady trying on a barely there suit had waltzed out of a changing room into perfect view of the full food court, sending testosterone charged calls to escape from every male in the area. What held this suit together is completely unfathomable, from the front alone I knew she would endure the pain of having sand in her bathing suit. I’m not sure if "in" is the right word, maybe more like around? IDK
In an effort to showcase the awesomeness contained in this one suit, she put forth great effort to sex it up in hopes to get a reaction out of her (so far) disapproving friend. You guessed it; it was runway walking and hair flipping all the way. Even I couldn’t help but watch this unfold. “Team boys” were going crazy loudly fantasizing about baby oil, pudding and ferret stroking. *sound of record screeching to a halt* Ferret stroking? WTF? Those chickens I got to tell you got dropped kicked right out of pop culture. I guess they're just no good to us now. *shrugs*
These calls really got the girl moving, causing her to walk towards the store window giving it all she had. Sending all the boys crazy with disbelief and pure satisfaction. I could see very clearly girlfriends categorically filing their boyfriends indiscretions deep into the their black box of post destruction feedback to either; A). Use it as means to and end in a future argument in a “exhibit A” manner ~or~ B). Use it for justification for dumping his ass later down the road. Yes it’s true we women can be catty bitches when we feel like it is necessary.
One thing is for sure; Scuzzy McSlutster would not be leaving that store without daggers from every g/f there slicing through her. Heading back she ended up tripping over a rug that a 4 y/o boy had previously bundled up to make jumps for his toy motorcycle. Shortly after fashioning this rug to his liking, this lovely display of all things sex appeal took place. Forcing his mother to snatch him up and leave the mall in a horrified manner, leaving behind what I like to call “the turn of fates.”
This fall caused the woman to react in an almost violent way. I suppose we all look like that when we are about to take a header, our bodies uncontrollably spasm while our brain tries to determine the correct course of action to take. Sending our arms and legs every which way, hoping that one of those directions will result in minimal damage. It was the confusion between the brain and limbs that did it, of that I’m sure. Causing the packing tape to pull loose, revealing to all what quite honestly, had been well hidden.
The gasps and horror that immediately replaced the catcalls of earlier, was practically timed with comedic precision. I swear I heard every single testicle jump up in a retreat like fashion, bearing forth the same affects of chemical castration, without the long-term results.
While this little episode definitely made the trip to the mall worth it, looking at the girls I could see nothing but determination in their faces to stay at least another hour in that hellhole. However I had no intentions of allowing that to happen. But it was going to take something drastic to get these girls up and moving. If you think about it, I mean especially after the testicle shrinking episode that just took place, I could very well pass the flashing of my chest to the “team boys” a charitable thing. One might even go so far as to say, it was the nice thing to do. But when push comes to shove, the security guard escorting me and my friends out of the mall was all for me and they didn’t take that lightly.
“#54 Send in a service dog with money and a note explaining your fear of old people and your highly allergic reactions to perm fumes” I say breaking the silence. “You know if you didn’t want to go out today, Becca, you could have just stayed home” I was instantly rebuffed.
"How would that have been any fun?" I wonder.
Ugh, I absolutely despise the food court at the mall. I mean the mall itself makes me sick, as it is just a cornerstone for rich girls to discover the miracles of 'daddy’s' credit card. Unfortunately, the food court is the only place to get a decent Chicago style pizza...odd right? Where one could easily avoid suffering through a food court outing by ordering to go, I have my girlfriends annoyingly insisting to make a day of it. How this at all feels like a worthwhile experience to them leaves me in a state of total discombobulation.
During the course of “enjoying” our meal we somehow end up discussing the subtle differences between zucchini and cucumbers, outside of the clearly obvious distinctions I feel uncomfortable with this topic. The girls all know about my embarrassment behind purchasing cucumbers alone. This is an obvious ploy to redden my cheeks so I turn my attention elsewhere. Which is surprisingly easy to do at the mall…shocking I know.
A couple of tables over are a group of loud rambunctious boys, each wearing team shirts the Bulls, the Bears and the Skunks, obviously local teams. It’s hard for me to understand why they would be so willing to try and out do each other with answers to why did the zombie cross the road questions, yeah apparently the chicken is SO yesterday. Who am I to judge, anyway, my table is currently talking about subtle differences between vegetables for crying out loud. Wait is it a fruit? Whatever. The boys slowly build up from “to get to the other side” to “to get some cheesy puffs and watch Bill and Ted” to “to eat Ben Stein and free all the zombie slaves.” This quickly led into more graphic zombie eating habits.
Suddenly feeling disinterested with the boy’s conversation I decided to regain consciousness with the talk at my own table. Still on the vegetables, honestly how long can this one topic go? Tapping into my all things I random I say “#367 bribe old women with breakfast coupons to purchase shampoo at a senior rate.” “What?!” they respond collectively through laughter. “1001 ways to buy shampoo” I suggest without budging any further.
The sound of hoots and howling gave me the perfect escape of having to defend my randomness. Finding the instigator of said calls was easy to spot, a lady trying on a barely there suit had waltzed out of a changing room into perfect view of the full food court, sending testosterone charged calls to escape from every male in the area. What held this suit together is completely unfathomable, from the front alone I knew she would endure the pain of having sand in her bathing suit. I’m not sure if "in" is the right word, maybe more like around? IDK
In an effort to showcase the awesomeness contained in this one suit, she put forth great effort to sex it up in hopes to get a reaction out of her (so far) disapproving friend. You guessed it; it was runway walking and hair flipping all the way. Even I couldn’t help but watch this unfold. “Team boys” were going crazy loudly fantasizing about baby oil, pudding and ferret stroking. *sound of record screeching to a halt* Ferret stroking? WTF? Those chickens I got to tell you got dropped kicked right out of pop culture. I guess they're just no good to us now. *shrugs*
These calls really got the girl moving, causing her to walk towards the store window giving it all she had. Sending all the boys crazy with disbelief and pure satisfaction. I could see very clearly girlfriends categorically filing their boyfriends indiscretions deep into the their black box of post destruction feedback to either; A). Use it as means to and end in a future argument in a “exhibit A” manner ~or~ B). Use it for justification for dumping his ass later down the road. Yes it’s true we women can be catty bitches when we feel like it is necessary.
One thing is for sure; Scuzzy McSlutster would not be leaving that store without daggers from every g/f there slicing through her. Heading back she ended up tripping over a rug that a 4 y/o boy had previously bundled up to make jumps for his toy motorcycle. Shortly after fashioning this rug to his liking, this lovely display of all things sex appeal took place. Forcing his mother to snatch him up and leave the mall in a horrified manner, leaving behind what I like to call “the turn of fates.”
This fall caused the woman to react in an almost violent way. I suppose we all look like that when we are about to take a header, our bodies uncontrollably spasm while our brain tries to determine the correct course of action to take. Sending our arms and legs every which way, hoping that one of those directions will result in minimal damage. It was the confusion between the brain and limbs that did it, of that I’m sure. Causing the packing tape to pull loose, revealing to all what quite honestly, had been well hidden.
The gasps and horror that immediately replaced the catcalls of earlier, was practically timed with comedic precision. I swear I heard every single testicle jump up in a retreat like fashion, bearing forth the same affects of chemical castration, without the long-term results.
While this little episode definitely made the trip to the mall worth it, looking at the girls I could see nothing but determination in their faces to stay at least another hour in that hellhole. However I had no intentions of allowing that to happen. But it was going to take something drastic to get these girls up and moving. If you think about it, I mean especially after the testicle shrinking episode that just took place, I could very well pass the flashing of my chest to the “team boys” a charitable thing. One might even go so far as to say, it was the nice thing to do. But when push comes to shove, the security guard escorting me and my friends out of the mall was all for me and they didn’t take that lightly.
“#54 Send in a service dog with money and a note explaining your fear of old people and your highly allergic reactions to perm fumes” I say breaking the silence. “You know if you didn’t want to go out today, Becca, you could have just stayed home” I was instantly rebuffed.
"How would that have been any fun?" I wonder.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Father's Day Weekend
For Father's Day weekend we headed to the coast. I cannot tell you how exciting the car ride was to the beach..kids make the world an easier place to..aww hell even I can't finish that line of bull. The kids were constantly on loud, either they were playing and loving each other, or they were screaming at how mean they thought the other one was. Ahhh..Father's Day weekend, I guess it's the same as any other day after all.
Finally we make it to the beach and I personally couldn't be happier to get out of the car and let the sound of the ocean drown out the constant rants of thehell beasts kids. Because honestly having to referee between a 9 and 3 year old is ridiculous.
It was freezing on Saturday, the wind was incredibly strong causing me to lose my footing every now and then. Clumsy people should not walk around on windy days. I love that little building mid cliff, mainly because it has a sign pinned to it that says "Keep Out"...alright, will do.
At some point Ant decided that he did not like the hotel so we cancelled our reservations and set off to find another one. I cannot even allow myself to bore you with the details of that.
So here it is, our new hotel and the kids couldn't be happier, if that isn't any indication to the drawn out process of choosing a new hotel I don't know what is.
Above is our view from the hotel we stayed at, it's of the Noyo Harbor. The bar scene from Overboard was filmed here. I should have taken a picture of the view from the Wharf to capture the Arturo and Catalina story for you all.
Austin had decided that he had complete control of the ocean. To further prove this theory he taunted it relentlessly until it decided to hurl huge waves out at him, where he would loudly exclaim "you see! I control the ocean" and would then carry on saying things like "you call that a wave?!" into the depths beyond. I could very clearly see him as an old mad man outraging the ocean and taking curious pride in his own ability to do so...I have never felt more disturbed.
Our time at the beach was mainly spent in quiet reflection (outside of the torture of having kids question everything non-stop that is). Ant is not big on talking, so I was left to chat away with myself. Thinking away long curious thoughts and making universes in my hand with sand...it's a long story. I look over and see Ant possibly doing the same thing and ask what he is thinking about he says "nothing..why?" "just curious I say". I wait to see if he wonders what is in my thoughts, hell no he won't even attempt to open that can of worms...that almost makes me laugh. And I remember my universe in my hand, I had forgotten that I was holding onto it, slowly I had crumbled it to almost nothing. Looking at what was left, it was hard to realize what had been lost and what had remained. I am an awful keeper of the universe and should possibly leave it to the powers that be.
Finally we make it to the beach and I personally couldn't be happier to get out of the car and let the sound of the ocean drown out the constant rants of the
It was freezing on Saturday, the wind was incredibly strong causing me to lose my footing every now and then. Clumsy people should not walk around on windy days. I love that little building mid cliff, mainly because it has a sign pinned to it that says "Keep Out"...alright, will do.
At some point Ant decided that he did not like the hotel so we cancelled our reservations and set off to find another one. I cannot even allow myself to bore you with the details of that.
So here it is, our new hotel and the kids couldn't be happier, if that isn't any indication to the drawn out process of choosing a new hotel I don't know what is.
Above is our view from the hotel we stayed at, it's of the Noyo Harbor. The bar scene from Overboard was filmed here. I should have taken a picture of the view from the Wharf to capture the Arturo and Catalina story for you all.
Ant and Ryder checking out the sunbathing seals.
Jughandle beach
Navarro River and beach
Austin had decided that he had complete control of the ocean. To further prove this theory he taunted it relentlessly until it decided to hurl huge waves out at him, where he would loudly exclaim "you see! I control the ocean" and would then carry on saying things like "you call that a wave?!" into the depths beyond. I could very clearly see him as an old mad man outraging the ocean and taking curious pride in his own ability to do so...I have never felt more disturbed.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Happy Father's Day!!!
To all you Fathers out there, that put forth the effort into being a Dad, this day is for you.
Your efforts are appreciated.
Your efforts are appreciated.
Friday, June 19, 2009
In the End Being Poor is Cool
I was watching an episode of Chelsea Lately last night. I really like the round table portion of the show, where her and her guest comedians talk trash about everyone. That interactive dialogue really brings out opportunities to say something humorous and I enjoy watching how they feed off one another. However, I usually do not stick around for the rest of the show. Last night I did stick around and witnessed a weird interview with MC Hammer. You can’t touch this. Blah blah blah he has a new reality show. Blah bla Hammer pants, what’s up with those? Chelsea could not escape her curiosity of how/why those pants were ever birthed into existence. Which lead her to relentlessly badger him on the subject. Awkward. Ultimately thanking him for being responsible for one of her worst looks ever.
This got me thinking about how I can honestly look back through time, over all the horrific fads and never have the urge to say “OMG I can’t believe I ever wore that.” Not because I had a conscious frame of mind of all things fashionably savvy, mind you, but because we were ridiculously poor and unable to pay into the “in look.” Ever the rainbow seeker, I can’t help but grin knowing that our time of hardship has spared us those guilty feelings of buying into mainstream America. I will admittedly say however, had we the cash I would so be regretting our fashion faux pas of the past. What? Teenagers can’t help themselves. Heck, women in general can’t help themselves.
Which leads me to those people who are not trendy. No not those people who could give a shit, the ones who are trying very hard to not be trendy. You know the type, always announcing how they could never buy into the trend of today’s times, refusing to be another bleak sheep amongst the herds roaming aimlessly about. Their music choice includes anything that has NOT gone mainstream, which they smugly confess to on a regular basis. To you, the overtly intentional non-trendy being, my question is do you not realize how trendy that is?
This got me thinking about how I can honestly look back through time, over all the horrific fads and never have the urge to say “OMG I can’t believe I ever wore that.” Not because I had a conscious frame of mind of all things fashionably savvy, mind you, but because we were ridiculously poor and unable to pay into the “in look.” Ever the rainbow seeker, I can’t help but grin knowing that our time of hardship has spared us those guilty feelings of buying into mainstream America. I will admittedly say however, had we the cash I would so be regretting our fashion faux pas of the past. What? Teenagers can’t help themselves. Heck, women in general can’t help themselves.
Which leads me to those people who are not trendy. No not those people who could give a shit, the ones who are trying very hard to not be trendy. You know the type, always announcing how they could never buy into the trend of today’s times, refusing to be another bleak sheep amongst the herds roaming aimlessly about. Their music choice includes anything that has NOT gone mainstream, which they smugly confess to on a regular basis. To you, the overtly intentional non-trendy being, my question is do you not realize how trendy that is?
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