It's all about the hair!

I have several searches that keep popping up on my stat counter. Most of those people end up at my blog from searching for things like "house smells" or "pictures of food smeared on clothes" (which should tell you a lot about the intelligent types of things we discuss here at Eulallia dot com). However, one search keeps showing up, and I get at least one or two hits from it every day. Apparently people out there are dying to know "how to do a messy ponytail". Unfortunately for them, they end up here, which can't be very helpful. So I have decided to appease the masses and write out some detailed instructions for achieving that popular mussed-up look.

Disclaimer: I have no idea what I am talking about. I am making most of this up as I go along. If you could see my hair right now you would see that I go for the more gross-and-unwashed-messy instead of cute-and-trendy-messy. Heaven help us all.

There are two ways to achieve the messy ponytail. The first way is great for you new moms who don't have any time for the usual washing and grooming. The second way is for you gals with a bit more time and supplies on hand, and who would like to put a little more effort into it.

Messy Ponytails for New Moms

Step one: Make sure you have not washed your hair for the last two days or so. The natural oils will help hold everything in place, eliminating the need for hairspray or mousse.

Step two: Squirt some breast milk or formula on your head and smear it around. This also acts in place of hairspray, but more importantly it gives you that unique and slightly sour mom-smell, which is universally recognized by all veterans of the two am feedings. This smell can, in a pinch, get you to the front of the line at the grocery store as long as you don't mind the pitying tsk-tsk from the old lady who let you cut. For you die-hards, baby puke works great as well.

Step three: Hastily pull your hair back in a rubber band to keep the baby from grabbing it while you're changing his diaper. Put the baby to bed, and collapse in a soft spot somewhere to rest before the night wakings begin. In the morning you should have a fantastically messy and crunchy hairstyle! You'll be able to tell if you did it right by checking the rubber band. Does it slip off easily, or will you have to cut it out later? Need the scissors? Then job well done, my friend!

If this doesn't sound like your cup of tea, here are the instructions for the other way to do it.

Messy Ponytails for People Who Can Take The Time To Make Themselves Look Unwashed and Disheveled

Step one: Comb your hair back with your fingers (this method works well for moms too, since I'm sure your child has either hidden your brush in the dress-up box or recently used it to groom the dog). Use an elastic to gather your hair into a ponytail. I always position mine a bit high on the back of my head, slightly above the level of my ears.

Step two: To make it look casual and haphazard, loosen your hair on the top and sides by gently pulling it out of the elastic (towards your face). Pull enough out so that it doesn't look tight, but not so much that it falls out.

Step three: Pull out some loose strands in the back and in front of your ears so that they are completely out of the elastic, hanging by your face and down the back of your neck. DON'T OVERDO THIS STEP or you might end up looking like this in which case, dude, just start over.

Step four: Finish with your favorite hairspray, and voila! You're done!

Hopefully this information has been helpful to you folks looking for hair advice. And men! Don't think I've forgotten you! Here's a quick tip for my male readers to avoid that hideous "comb over" look: for the love of all that is good and holy JUST SHAVE YOUR HEAD.

The PMS, She Can Bite Me

I have been a snarling, crying, grouchy mess the last two days. I am so GRUMPY I can barely stand myself. And that's all I have to say on the matter.

There are some big changes going on here at Eulallia.com. A major re-design, site name change, and new content just to name a few things! I may be scarce for the next few weeks, but check back around Christmas to see the fruits of my labors. Happy holidays, everyone!

Shopping and Bad Art

Raise your hand if you went shopping yesterday! Woo-hoo! I scored some wicked deals, yo. I also almost burned down one store with my RAGE at what supreme IDIOTS they were, and came very close to beating down two huge fat men who cut in front of me in line at Sears. Apparently shopping makes me very angry. It's not just me, though. Anyone who was in the toy department at Target saw the brawls that broke out over those Doodle Bear things. Man, people went crazy over those. And? To the lady who had nine Doodle Bears piled up in your cart? I know you don't really have nine kids. Just make sure to mention in your eBay ad how you got those scary-shopper-eyes as you used your cart like a bumper car to shove your way through the crowd to get at the display. It should make them sell better.

I got almost all of my Christmas shopping done. This is good, because I'm trying to make this a stress-free holiday season. Stop laughing for a second and hear me out; I'm planning on having all of my shopping done in early December, we're not doing a Christmas letter for our families this year, AND I'm not going to do my usual baking frenzy where I give everyone I know plus their grandmas a tin filled with homemade treats. All this leaves me with is wrapping everyone's presents, making homemade soap with my mom to give to our family, and hosting a post-Christmas get together for my husband's side of the family. ...Okay, now I'm laughing too.

The BEST part about the Thanksgiving weekend sales this year was that I got a little something for myself, too. Watch this to see an artistic representation of my gift to myself using my Rockstar Art Skilz. Yeehaw, baby, I think I may have a future in the crappy computer art field.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and gained a few pounds to prove it!

You Can Just Call Me Augustus Gloop

Urrrg. I have gravy coming out my eyeballs. I am stuffed to the gills. And yet... and yet... I want more pumpkin pie...

I am tired tonight, so don't expect much

So. Thanksgiving. Food and stuff.

I am wondering what your favorite Thanksgiving dish is? In my family growing up we had two Thanksgiving dinners, one at each of my grandparents' houses. My favorite was always the mashed potatoes and gravy, all made from scratch by my dad's mother. Pretty much everything she made was fantastic, her rolls, her fruit salad... she even made her own pickles. She would jar the cucumbers over the summer, and let them pickle for months. Traditionally, the first jar of that year's batch would be opened for Thanksgiving dinner. Since she died 4 years ago, Thanksgiving has dulled for me. It doesn't feel quite as special or warm. She truly made her food with love, and it came through strongly. I miss her a lot.

Luckily, my other grandparents are both alive and kicking, so Thanksgiving with them is the same as it's ever been. They always get a Honey Baked Ham for Thanksgiving and Christmas, so I associate tasty brown-sugar crusted ham with holidays on that side of the family. Both sides of my family always have the traditional dishes; green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, stuffing, pumkpin pie... Mmmm, I'm getting hungry just thinking about it! Everyone is always sent home with days worth of leftovers. The one thing I've never liked is the yams. I don't think anyone actually likes them, but we still make them every year. One time, the grocery store was sold out of the regular marshmallows, so we tried making them with the mini colored ones instead. Yeah... that wasn't so good. I'm trying to slowly phase out the yams, and replace them with this yummy squash recipe:

1 large Butternut squash; peeled, seeded and cubed
3/4 C milk
6 Tbs butter, melted
3 eggs, beaten
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 C sugar
3 Tbs flour
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp ground cloves
1/8 tsp ground nutmeg

TOPPING
1/2 C vanilla wafer crumbs
1/4 C packed brown sugar
2 tbs butter, melted

Place squash in a large saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil and cook until tender, about 25-30 mins. Drain and place in a large mixing bowl, beat until smooth. Add the milk, butter, eggs, and vanilla; mix well. Combine the dry ingredients; add to squash mixture and mix well. Transfer to a greased baking dish; cover and bake at 350 degrees for 45 mins. Combine the ingredients for the topping until crumbly, sprinkle over squash. Bake uncovered for 12-15 mins. So tasty!

So, in summation: Mashed potatoes? Good. Yams? Yucko. Grandma? I miss her. And you? What do you want to tell me about your Thanksgiving?

Loving This Poem

Sagacity

Despair to my mother was I in my youth,
For I was considered inept and uncouth;
Unkempt and unruly
Was infant Yours Truly.

Throughout tempestuous puberty
She battled my uncoutherty,
And with a stern unfoolishness
Coped with my unrulishness.

My mother (flushed with her success)
Then tackled my unkemptliness
And with relentless recitude
Conquered my ineptitude.

How well my mother schooled me,
How well my mother fooled me,
At last I've discovered the terrible truth -
It's no fun being ept, kempt, ruly or couth.

-- Roslyn Taylor

We Shall Overcome

I don't like it when my kids grow. For two reasons, actually. One, the more they grow the less they need me and the closer they get to being adult-like independent people who don't want to live with me anymore. And two, whenever we're in the midst of a growth spurt they turn into crotchety fire-breathing gargoyles. It's always more intense with my oldest daughter, and the past few days around here have been gargoyle days with her. Remember in The Exorcist when Linda Blair's character gets kind of lost inside the demon that has taken over her body? That's basically what we're seeing. I keep wanting to lift up A~'s shirt to see if she's trying to spell out "help me" on her stomach from wherever she is inside that scary little body. The problem is every time I try to get near her, her head spins around and she projectile vomits green slop all over me.

When the gargoyle days are upon us, A~ seems to lose all grasp of her vocabulary save these two phrases: "No I won't!" and "I'm hungry!" She requires food constantly, barely swallowing the last bite of something before demanding more. I can tell she truly is hungry, because she devours giant raw carrots with the same enthusiasm as she does powdered donuts. Her usual finicky eating habits manifest themselves instead by requiring things to be just so. She must have WHOLE graham crackers, you see, and heaven help you if one has a broken corner. Sandwiches must be cut into TRIANGLES, and if a plate of squares is set before her you shall feel the wrath of the gargoyle. The worst, oh my the absolute worst is string cheese. The cheese must be separated into meticulously perfect long strings, and if this doesn't happen the green vomit and head spinning begins in a fit of violent rage.

Me: "Here's your string cheese, honey!"

A~: "AAAAAAAUUGGGH! Bluaaagh guurrrgle spllltthhh!"

Me: "Oh, oh dear. You know the small strings taste exactly the same as the long strings, and really I don't think spewing green vomit on me is going to solve much of anyth-"

A~: "Bluuuaaaarrrrgg! I'M HUNGRY!"

Me: "Oh my. Oh my goodness. Ok..." (Drip, slosh, backing away slowly) "Let me just string this for you. There does that help? Can you turn your head back around and look?"

A~: "No! I won't! I'm HUUUUUUUNGRYYYY!"

As if the food and crankiness issues aren't enough, the gargoyle growth spurts also bring upon us overly drowsy days and completely sleepless nights. I can't get her to do anything during daylight hours, from putting on her socks to going on an outing. Her eyelids droop pathetically the entire day, and every once in awhile she'll yawn enormously (emitting small puffs of smoke). I count the minutes until bedtime, anticipating hours of quiet slumber after which she will wake up refreshed and back to her sweet little self. Not so. What does bedtime bring instead? Hours upon hours upon hours of loud crashes and bangs coming from her room. Window blinds are rattled, book pages are feverishly flipped, and every once in a while a growly voice calls out, "I'm hungry!" Here we are at 10:35 pm, and she is still up there doing something. I don't even think I want to know.

Eventually, the gargoyle will fizzle out. My darling girl will be returned to me, slightly scratched and scraggly, and an inch or two taller than the last time I saw her. For my own long-term sanity, I will attempt to forget these past few days, locking the memories away down deep inside. I will pretend I never had to scrub green vomit off of my baseboards and I will quietly boycott all forms of cheeses that string. We will all live a peaceful Better Homes and Gardens kind of life, and I will make a fresh apple pie every afternoon. Until then, I will persevere. I will don some protective eye covering and a shower cap, and dive in head first. I'm her mother, after all, and it's my job.

...Right? I can't, like, take a few days off, or... No, right. It's ok, I'm good. I think.

Not So Sundry Sunday

I don't feel like writing much today, so I'll just say two things:

1. Sark is coming back to Alias next week and it is going to friggin rock!

2. We have to buy a new digital camera since our old one died. Here is one of the last pictures I took with our old one before it went kaput:

Apparel for Motherhood

I remember back in the day, before I had kids... Things were so different. I could spend all day running errands, and get twenty things done in a day instead of two. I could leave my nail polish out on the counter without returning five minutes later to find my counter painted red. I could choose my clothes based how they looked, without trying to figure out how badly they would be stained by chocolate smeared spit. My wardrobe is quite a bit less glamorous than it used to be. No more silk, cashmere, or hand-wash-only. My clothes these days fall into one of two categories:

1) Light Colors, or in other words Clothes That Show Food and Dirt; or

2) Dark Colors, or in other words Clothes That Show Snot and Mucous.

I wake up in the morning and assess the situation. Are we going to the park? Out to lunch? If the answer to either of these questions is yes, I choose a dark shirt. Does someone have a runny nose? Is anyone teething? If so, I choose a light shirt.

Now this system works fine until you have a conflict. Often, I'll have a leaky drooling teether going on a lunch play date. This causes much stress and confusion during the shirt selection process since I am then forced to weigh the odds. I could go with a light color and risk being slathered in peanut butter mouth prints, but I would then be free from any obvious teething salivations. Or, I could try going dark and not have to worry about the peanut butter, but I would then surely end up covered front to back in dozens of slug-like trails of spit. Oh, what to do? What if one of them has a runny nose but the other one has to go to a birthday party at the zoo? What if we're not going anywhere because one of them is sick, and I want to be prepared to be puked on? Does vomit go in the food or mucous category?

Pants are usually easy since jeans can take a beating without breaking a sweat, but there are some situations that can even push denim to it's very limit. Such as helping out in a classroom filled with seventeen waist-high preschoolers. They swing around your legs like a jungle gym with their paint smeared palms and Play-Doh encrusted fingernails. They play hide-and-seek behind you, pressing their Kool-Aid mustaches into your thigh to try and stifle their giggles, lest they be discovered.

At the end of the day, I think the only answer is investing in a durable raincoat and some chest waders. At least then I can go catch a fish or two in between poopy diapers.

You're Going To Cry Too

Every few months, a group of moms from my church all go out to a late-night movie. We like to go mid-week, so that the theater is empty, and usually to a 10:00 show so that our kids are already asleep. This makes for a completely stress and guilt free outing. We also choose movies that our husbands would rather die than see. Past showings have included "The Notebook", "Connie and Carla", and "Spanglish". See what I mean? Did you take your husband to any of those? I didn't think so. But you totally know YOU wanted to see them!

We got together again last night to see "Pride and Prejudice". And holy leaky eyeballs batman, what a movie. It was... well, there are no words. It was just magnificent in every way. I am a HUGE Jane Austen junkie and have spent much of my life wishing that I was born as a character in one of her books instead of a boring old modern American. (But not Fanny Dashwood. She's a meanie.) This remake of "Pride and Prejudice" was sublime. It was so beautifully filmed and acted and directed. And of course, so very romantic. Mr. Darcy really knows how to make a girl go weak in the knees.

I never used to cry during movies before I had kids. The only movies I can remember shedding tears at are "Titanic" and "Dead Man Walking". Well, and "Bambi". But I can't be blamed for that because I was five and his mother died. Heartbreaking! After my kids were born, though, it's like the floodgates burst open. Or like they have a touchy release valve or something. The slightest tender moment, and I'm a goner. "I Am Sam"? Cried like a baby. "Phantom of the Opera"? Bawled my brains out. Nemo on Ice? I dampened a tissue or two. But this movie... this movie my friends, almost killed me. I nearly collapsed on the sticky theater floor in a crunchy dehydrated heap. I lost all control over my tear ducts, and they apparently took that as a signal to purge themselves of all liquid. The crying began during Mr. Darcy's long walk across the dew-kissed meadow at dawn, into Elizabeth's waiting arms. Mr. Darcy walked, the music swelled and I was gone. I didn't stop until the final credits rolled when the sound of my loving and supportive friends' mocking laughter brought me out of my reverie. For photo evidence, see the Daring Young Mom's account of our movie date. The blurry head bent over their lap? That's me. The person taking this damning evidence with their cell phone camera? Let's call her the Taunting Young Mom from now on.

I left the theater last night feeling delightfully and giddily romantic. It was such a better experience than when I saw the "Blair Witch Project" on the big screen and couldn't sleep for a week. (Never been camping since, by the way.) I like it when movies leave me feeling calm and content. When my faith in the goodness of humanity is restored, and my belief in everlasting love is renewed. I snuggled up close to my husband when I got home, simply and perfectly happy just to have his arms around me. It's good to be reminded that no matter what crazy twists and turns life throws my way, as long as I have my Mr. Darcy I can make it through.

Two things

My children are the quietest when they are banding together in a rare moment of sisterly love to make a gigantic mess. Like making a popcorn trail leading from the kitchen, through the living room, around the den, and back into the kitchen. All Hansel and Gretel-style. So that "we can find our way back to you, Mommy!"

I totally just caught a bug with my hand. Witness the speed! The agility! I am in awe of myself.

A Three Year Old and Her Shoe

A~ (yelling from the other room): "Help! Help me!"

Me: "What do you need A~?"

A~: "I need help! Help me!"

Me: "Can you come here and talk to me please? Come tell me what you need."

A~: "I'm trying to take my shoes off! Help!"

Me: "If you want me to help you, please come here."

...Silence...

A~: "No, I can do it." Pause. "Help! Heeeellllp!"

Me: "I can help you if you bring your feet to me."

...Silence...

A~: "Um, no I'm ok." Pause. "Help meeeeeeeeee! Heeell- oh, I did it."

Can I have your Kit Kat please?

A few months ago, my darling friend the Daring Young Mom wrote a post about the quirky way she likes to eat Kit Kats. Ha ha! I thought. How fun! So the next time I encountered a Kit Kat (via my kids' Halloween stash) I decided to give it a try. I figured it wouldn't do much for me, other than maybe get some chocolate on my fingers which may or may not be saved for later.

Can you see where this is going?

It was fantastic! It was such a better way to eat Kit Kats than the regular boring way! Now I'm hooked, and I nibbled away all of my children's Kit Kats and they are ALL GONE and I am very upset. I tried some peanut M&Ms, but it was no use. There was no satisfying wafer crunch. Curse you, Daring Young Mom for your brilliant Kit Kat eating ways! This is all very frustrating.

Sundry Sunday

1. I have adopted a new theory, one that I just read in the book "Blessings" by Anna Quindlen: "Nadine was the cleanest person he'd ever known. She confirmed a suspicion he'd always had that there was some kind of link between cleanliness and meanness." p171. Now I understand! I'm just too nice, that's why my house is so messy!

2. Homemade chicken soup is awesome, especially when someone makes it for you and delivers it to your door. Thank you Dixie!!

3. It is way harder to take care of a sick baby at 2:00 am than it is to take care of the same sick baby at 2:00 pm.

4. The movie "A Lot Like Love" sucked.

5. Don't eat a tortilla with hummus and feta cheese if you're planning on throwing up later.

6. Yes. It is true. Boy Cut jeans are awesome.

7. Being locked up in a house for a week with two sick kids when you are also sick is about as close to hell as anything on this earth.

My Day in Verse

'Twas the day after Sick Fest, and all through the house
All the creatures were coughing (except for my spouse).
The toys were still strewn about without care
In hopes that the Cleaning Fairy soon would be there.

The children were whiny, driving me mad,
They had sucked all the patience from me and their dad.
We tried to go shopping, which ended quite badly
So I had to be rushed through the racks at Old Navy.

Finally at home, there arose such a clatter
We could not figure out what the heck was the matter.
The oldest would yell, the youngest would weep,
But they both fought their nap and would not go to sleep.

Needing a break, I went out for the mail,
Expecting nothing more than ads for some sales.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a sweet mixed cd, from a blogging friend dear.

20 songs filled the disc, there were fast ones and slow,
So I played it right then while the kids watched a show.
My beloved Ben Folds was number 2 on the list,
Farther down was Sam Phillips, who I now can't resist.

Two more of my favorites Fluid Pudding did add,
Including Magnetic Fields (dude, they're rad!)
And Fiona Apple whose beautiful voice
Made me get up and dance, I had no choice.

The music played on, as the hours they passed
When finally we could put the kids to bed at last.
We dressed them in PJs, brushed their pearly whites,
Read them each some books, and then turned out the lights.

My husband went out to rent us a movie,
Maybe a chick flick, or something equally groovy.
We'll snuggle together underneath a thick quilt,
And finally relax without worry or guilt.

I'm sure that the kids will wake up sometime soon,
Crying for water or from bad dreams of baboons.
But until then, my friends, things are quiet tonight
So I'll say "Thanks for reading, and have a good night!"

Not such a bad idea...

After sadly surveying the damage that Sick Fest 2005 has wreaked upon our household, A~ looked at me and said,

"I have a good idea. Let's just move!"

Tales of the sick

Oh. My. Gosh. This week I have had? So awful. I am just barely out of the fog of sickness today, my brain un-fuddled enough to write a proper entry. A lot has happened, exciting things like Nemo on Ice and trips to the ER! Chest x-rays! Woo-hoo! Amazingly, my husband still hasn't gotten sick. He's been taking care of the rest of us all week, and I'm about positive that caring for a weak and vaguely delirious wife, a semi-sick but still bouncing off the walls three year old, and a so sick she can barely breathe one year old has not been all that much fun.

Monday was my worst day, what with the snot monsters and the vomiting. I felt a bit better on Tuesday, but that was the day the kids got sick. A~'s asthma flared up big-time, but that was pretty much the extent of her illness. Poor little E-- started developing croup right from the get-go. For those of you who aren't familiar with this nasty illness, croup is the result of the voice box swelling, which cuts off the already narrow airway in young children. Adults can get it too, but since our throats are wider, we just get laryngitis. Kids get at the very least a bark-like cough, and at the most severe stridor (the rasping sound indicating major airway obstruction) which requires immediate medical attention. So at 5 am Wednesday morning when E-- woke up sounding like Darth Vader with a life-threatening case of pneumonia, we knew it was bad. We took her outside, hoping the cool, wet air would help like it usually does, but it wasn't getting us anywhere. We called our insurance company's 24 hour nurse line, and put the phone next to E--'s mouth so the nurse could hear her breathe. She told us to take her in right away, and not to worry about showering or getting dressed just GET HER IN.

At this point, I would normally either be royally freaking out or taking charge like a whirlwind to make sure things went smoothly. Alas, neither was possible for me because you see, two hours prior to this when I still hadn't been able to get to sleep by 3 am, my loving husband hauled his butt to the store to buy me some Nyquil. I was drugged. So deep was my trembling stupor that I barely even had the strength or presence of mind to hold the phone and talk to the nurse. No way was my husband letting me drive anywhere (although at the time I thought I would be fine). So he bundled her up and drove her to the ER, and I passed out like a stuffy, snotty log. At the ER she was given a chest x-ray since she had a fever, but luckily that came out clear. They gave her an enormous shot of steroids in her leg to reduce the swelling in her throat, and sent her home.

I woke up sometime around 11 am, confused but rested. E-- was feeling much better, her stridor gone and her cough less severe. Like the logically thinking sick person that I was, I began worrying about our plans to go see Nemo on Ice that night. Would people around us notice that we were so sick? Could we hide it somehow? How bad would I feel about spreading our nasty germs around? Thankfully Ammon talked me out of letting E-- go, since she had just been to the EMERGENCY ROOM that MORNING, but since A~ was feeling fine I convinced him that it would be ok to take her. She had a great time, and I think her favorite part was that I let her eat an entire tub of popcorn for dinner. I don't remember that much from the show, mostly just the painfully bright flashing lights and the spinning spinning spinning I'm going to throw up spinning of the weird fish-people down on the ice.

I woke up the next day (yesterday) feeling even worse. E-- started the day out ok, but after her nap she spiked a fever again and her breathing started to decline. She was so miserable, and in so much pain, but she refused to take any medicine. I finally called the doctor's office who told me to bring her in to be seen that evening, since it looked like we were headed for a really bad night. Ammon was at work, so I drove us down to the doctor's office. I was feeling pretty bad, really dizzy and out of it, and of course it was pouring rain and pitch black. I kept thinking, "Wow, we haven't crashed yet" every time we rounded a curve or stopped at a light.

Ammon met us at the doctor's office, which was good because I could barely stand. The pediatrician who saw E-- said that she needed another dose of steroids to make it through the night. They tried to give it to her orally, but she was completely against it, so they decided to just give her another shot. Apparently they decided to take advantage of our location, and just bring in the Space Needle to inject her with. The nurse struggled in, dragging all 605 feet of the needle behind her and dropping it heavily on the floor. Wiping her sweaty brow, she prepared E--'s leg for the monstrous injection, and hoisted the 9,550 ton structure onto her shoulder. Jabbing blindly, she finally found a muscle in E--'s tiny leg, and spent the next twelve hours injecting the steroids as slowly as possible. When she was finally done, I bundled up my crying child and hurried her out of the office, listening to her pitiful little cries of "no, no, no, no, no," all the way out to the car. Ammon left his car at the doctor's office so he could drive us home safely, and we spent the rest of the night coaxing Tylenol down E--'s throat without success.

E-- and I feel much better this morning, although we're both extremely tired and cranky. She still won't take medicine for her sore throat, and every time she coughs she breaks down in tears. Writing this has wiped me out, so I am going to go put on some Wiggles for the kids and pass out on the couch.

I can tell E-- is feeling better because she gave me a genuinely awed "Woooow!" when I blew my nose just now.

The Gods of Crap Are Generous

Crappy Day of Suck has decided to extend its stay, and has crapped out every of this week so far. My cup of crap runneth over.

Croup. Five in the morning. Emergency Room. Nuff said.

Watch It, Girlie

This morning my husband got an email from his ex-girlfriend. The Evil Ex-girlfriend who was Crazy and Mean and who The Whole Family Hated*. It was sent through some strange man's email account, so there was no way of knowing that by clicking on Thomas H D-'s benign little "hi" in the subject line we would yield such frightening results. Why couldn't it have been an ad for ViaGrrrra or Hott Seexy Grrlz? Why couldn't it have been boring old not dredging things up from the past porn? WHY?

Oh, the email was innocent enough. On the surface. But my hackles were immediately raised, and I used my protective wife super powers to read between those angelic lines:

"Hello Ammon, (Calling him by his first name, eh? Cheeky.)
I've been wanting to contact you and just say hi for quite awhile now. (So she's been thinking about him a lot lately!) So I googled you and found this address on the -HS Aumni [sic] site. (Going OUT OF HER WAY to try and find his contact info! Smells like desperation to me.) Did you recieve [sic] the (AA amends) letter I wrote and sent through B-? (Yes, thank you, and if he had wanted to respond by now he would have.) I'd love to hear how you and your family are doing. (Translation: I hope you are divorced and available.) I'm living in Nashville, Yeehaaw! (Translation: Please come visit and have a love child with me.) I love it here. The music in this town is absolutely amazing. (Translation: Since you are a musician you will be happy no where else but here with me where I will feed you peeled grapes and you can forget all about that silly "wife" of yours.) Anyway, I just wanted to reach out, it's been so many years. (Not enough years, if you ask me.) I hope you're filled with God's love and living the life you came here to live. (Woah there, pussycat. That's getting a little deep.)
Many blessings, (Translation: I still love you,)
M---"
(Right here is where she wrote her real email address, not the tricky fake one she used to send it with so we wouldn't automatically hit delete.)

Grrrrrr. Wifey not happy. Wifey MAD. Wifey gonna eat this girl and her sweet little email ALIVE. (Snarl, growl, gnashing of teeth.)


* Not that there aren't a bucket full of crazies in my past, or that Ammon's family liked ME that much at first, either!

Retch

"At least I am not puking like some other people I know."

Ha ha ha! Scratch that, reverse it.

Sinus City, please meet Vomitville. I think you two will really get along, seeing as you have so much in common.

YOU BOTH WANT ME TO DIE.

Hello I Am Sick

Over the weekend a wee little pioneer snot monster quietly crawled up into my sinuses and is now in the process of building a giant snot city with millions of tiny snot inhabitants. While most of them seem quite happy to be packed in there so tightly my eyeballs are soon to pop out, many have undertaken the Great Journey South out of my nose, populating the ever growing Kleenex Town that is piling up beside my bed. Still others are forging northward, and I think they may be trying to create a path directly from Sinus City up through my brain and out my ears. I find this painful.

Right now I am lying in bed, miserable and whiny, while my darling husband watches the girls downstairs. He is letting me rest this morning, but he has to go in to work in T minus fifteen minutes so the countdown to Crappy Day of Suck has begun. He has also supplied me with a dazzling array of drugs on my bedside table, so I am off now to make out with my Sudafed and Ibuprofen bottles, and hopefully with their help I can make it through. At least I am not puking like some other people I know. Wish me luck.

Guess and Tell- The Conclusion and also Sundry Sunday

Are you ready? Are you really really ready? Bizarre Black Plastic Thingy is...

The Vidal Sassoon Fan Tail- "Create the latest look in messy up-do's in seconds!"



You're supposed to use it to make a cute messy ponytail, which makes lca's guess of using it to make a bun the closest. Luckily she said "bun" and not "ponytail" or I would be out a million bucks, and I was kinda saving that to build a time machine so I could go back in time and hang out with Jimmy Stewart. There's just something about that Elwood P. Dowd...

Anyway, there you have it. A completely useless and stupid piece of crap that doesn't work. Lca almost-wins, and Mir gets mega super bonus points for her guess of an "uncomfortable diaphragm."

My random thoughts for the week:

1. My throat hurts.

2. I find it sad that playing Prince Malcolm in my 6th grade class's production of "Macbeth" was the highlight of my career as a performer.

3. Why did Oprah spend 15 minutes talking about what a good job her hairdresser did decorating her freaking mansion of a guest house? This is supposed to be inspiring and interesting how?

4. I recently realized that Grover is my Sesame Street alter-ego. And I think this is very revealing about me.

5. HOW does the pretzel inside the Hershey's Take 5 candy bar stay so fantastically CRUNCHY? I just don't get it!

Props, y'all

You guys are such good guessers! One of the guesses is just ONE WORD off of being correct! Tomorrow I'll let you know who that is, and I will reveal the true identity of Bizarre Black Plastic Thingy.

Right now, I am tired. And also lazy. So... bye.

Guess and Tell

I bought this bizarre contraption at the drug store the other day:



I thought it might be fun to have a little guessing game. Does anyone know what it is? Here are a few clues:

1) It cost less than three dollars
2) It is not edible
3) It is made of plastic
4) You do not use it to clean the litter box

Here's another picture with a little different angle:



The winner gets a million dollars, because none of you have any idea what the heck this is.

I spent all of yesterday fighting with Blogger to try and publish some posts. Blogger won. I am very frustrated. But I think it's working today.

Crap.

Everything was going well until I found this note taped to my mirror this morning:


November 4, 2005

To: Eulallia, CEO My Face, Inc

Re: You can't get rid of me that easily

Dear Eulallia,

I wholeheartedly agree that my position between the two eyebrows was unsuitable. Unfortunately, at this time I cannot accept your decision to terminate my employment at My Face, Inc. Beginning today, I am redoubling my efforts and will be focusing my attention primarily to the Left and Center, Above Your Top Lip department. You should begin to see my improvements to the area as early as mid-morning. I thank you in advance for your support, and I look forward to a long and glorious future with your company.

Yours Forever,

Ms Pimple

You're Fired!

November 2, 2005

To: Zit in the middle of my forehead

Re: Job termination, effective immediately

Dear Ms Pimple,

Although you have only been with us for a few days, I'm sure that you have noticed that we at My Face, Inc consider ourselves to be extremely diverse. We pride ourselves on our wide variety of freckles and "beauty marks" that make up the beautifully mismatched blueprint of our company. As you know, everyone here at My Face, Inc must adhere to very strict standards and codes of conduct. While your position with the company was already on a temporary basis, we have felt it necessary to terminate your employment sooner than originally specified.

Your presence between the two eyebrows seemed at first exciting and daring, and we brought you on board with the hope of taking our company's cutting edge image to a new level. However, upon further consideration we have decided that your red and swollen appearance draws unnecessary attention to the eyebrow area, an area that we have felt for some time is not our strong point. We have found it uncomfortable to have this weak area of My Face, Inc so glaringly displayed, and we feel it is in the best interest of the company to attempt to repair and strengthen the area before encouraging further attention.

We have appreciated your hard work and diligence, and we feel sure that determination such as you have shown will ensure your success with any company. We would be delighted to supply you with letters of recommendation if you so desire. In fact, we have been notified of an opening in one of our sister companies, Britney Spears' Face, Inc. With the drop in the company's level of pregnancy hormones, the Britney company has been conducting a nationwide search to replace the once very abundant "Preggy Pimples". My Face, Inc feels that you are the right zit for the job, and has already forwarded your resume to the Britney company. You should be hearing from them shortly.

My Face, Inc regrets any inconvenience this has put upon you Ms Pimple, and would like to again reiterate our admiration for your tenacious work ethic and wish you the best of luck in all your future endeavors. Please have your desk cleared out by the end of the day.

Sincerely,

Eulallia
Director and CEO
My Face, Inc

Fuss-ocity!

My shirt from the lovely Mrs. Kennedy arrived today!



I shall wear it with all of the haughtiness and pride it commands. Or maybe I'll just put it over my pillow and sleep with it, because it is oh so very very soft...