“Better fucking postures” was recently used to find my blog.  I don’t remember writing about better fucking postures, but I will say there are a few that hurt my back. 

Anyway, my house is now officially on the market.  If I never have to clean it again, it’ll be too soon.  I’d like to think I’m a fairly clean person.  I’m not fond of dusting because I’m allergic to dust (really, who isn’t?), but I love to vacuum and I do clean up after myself every day.  Well, over the last four days I have discovered that I’m a pig.  I live in filth and squalor and my mother would be less than proud of me.  I’m as messy as my sister, and if you knew her, you’d know that I’m truly disgusting.  Needless to say, I was horrified at what I found.  Dust bunnies the size of actual bunnies in the form of dog hair.  Questionable sticky messes on the kitchen floor which refused to be mopped and had to be shoveled off with my thumbnails.  An unknown substance on the wood floors.  I blame the dog for that – when he had a poo accident, it was there, ack ack ack (wow, that’s information I’m sure the people who buy this house would want)!!!  I’m not even going to say what I found on the windowsills, but ew.  So yeah, it turns out I’m gross.

While my house is on the market, I’m not going to use my shower.  That doesn’t mean I won’t take my showers (I’m gross, but not that gross) – I’ll just use Munchkin’s bathroom for that now.  But my shower is one of those glass enclosed ones, and they’re a bitch to clean and keep clean.  I won’t use my tub either because it’s also a bitch to clean.  The good news there is that I used Munchkin’s tub for a bath last night and it’s small enough that the hot water doesn’t run out before the tub is full.  That’s a very annoying problem with mine (also information I’m sure a potential buyer would love to hear).

I need to run errands and wash my car, but it’s raining like crazy here.  I wouldn’t bother with the car but it’s so dirty I can hardly see out the windows.  You know, I’m not sure why I think I’m a clean person when all the evidence is pointing the other way.


Okay, first of all, it snowed twice this week.  I thought I lived in Texas, but apparently, we’ve switched places with Minnesota.  Snow in March in Texas?  Unheard of.  Luckily it melts by early morning so nobody has to deal with us being bigger idiots on the road than usual.  I swear, they should make it illegal to drive here unless the skies are cloud free.  We are bad drivers.  It was even worse when I lived in Houston.  It rains all the time there, and yet, whenever it rains, nobody will touch the accelerator.  It’s like they’re all stopping to gawk at the raindrop.  Like they didn’t see eleventy billion of them the day before.

Monday night, M-F and I had dinner from this Italian place close to where I live.  It was snowing, so we had it delivered.  I think it’s ironic that people order in when the weather is bad – it’s like, I don’t want to die, but I’ll let the delivery guy risk life and limb on the little one lane each way, winding, potholey blacktop farm road.  I ordered Chicken Marsala.  There’s no milk or cream sauce or anything in it that should make my lactose-intolerant self sick.  The chicken was definitely cooked through and hot when I ate it.  And yet … a little while after I ate it, I started feeling sick.  Then my forehead got all clammy.  Then I got super-quiet which only happens if I’m afraid I’ll open my mouth and instead of words, puke will come out.  Then I knew for sure I was going to puke, and I ran for the bathroom downstairs.  Oh no!  M-F was in there!!!  Shit!  So I ran up the stairs, dog following, and started throwing up in my mouth about halfway up.  I got to the guest bathroom and barely made it to the toilet to unleash the vom.  Meanwhile, Magnus was hanging his head into the toilet just checking out what I had created.  I’m like, “Magnus, no!  Don’t eat that!” and then another wave of barf would come.  A word to the wise:  Unless your mouth is full of throw-up and you cannot speak, tell your dog to wait outside the bathroom.  They just don’t need to be in there.  Anyway, when I was done, I felt freaking awesome, like better than normal.  It was the weirdest thing.  My sister randomly barfs, not me.  So once again, we have to start the non-pukeage streak over.  I swear I don’t normally throw up three times in one year.

That’s pretty much all the non-drama for the week.  Oh, we never made it to the aquarium on Tuesday.  We stayed in bed for too long and then ate at the Waffle House which is totally gross but so yummy.  I insist on calling it “Der Waffle Haus” like in “Dead Like Me”.  I miss that show, but dude, whenever they ate, it made me so hungry and I wanted their food.  When I die, I’d like to be a reaper so I can have their metabolism.  Check that – assuming that the show is right about how it works, then I’d like to be a reaper.  Otherwise, forget it.  Anyway, their coffee was surprisingly good.  It kind of makes you rethink the $4 latte.

I don’t have too much going on this week.  I should be doing laundry, but that is so not fun, so I’m avoiding it by blogging about how I have nothing to do.  Hunh.

So what is going on?  Well, let’s see.  Man-Friend came over last night.  It was lots of fun – we laughed a lot and had dinner (steak – I insisted as I’ve been craving red meat like you wouldn’t believe).  Then we came back here and watched “Survivorman”.  That dude is a riot.  Then we went to, ahem, bed.  We ended up sleeping til like eleven this morning, oops.  It was cold and rainy though, so it was really good sleeping weather.  Unfortunately, since we slept so late, I missed my scheduled session on the ice.  I was going to go to a later one, but I had a conference call this afternoon with my financial guy.

Or make that, I was supposed to be having a conference call.  He cancelled by email because he had a migraine.  I was sitting here waiting for the phone to ring at three and was checking my email when I saw it.  So now I’m like, well, what to do?  I need to go to Target (we have a condom emergency.  There’s only one left.  This is very very very bad), and Munchkin has a band concert tonight.  The issue is that my car is in the shop having maintenance done and should be ready any minute now.  I don’t want to be at Target when I get that phone call, so I’m waiting, lalalalala.  If nothing else, I can go after the concert.  Seriously, is my life not the most exciting thing ever???

J’s birthday is tomorrow, so I also need to pick up something for him.  I have no idea what to get him, so I’ll probably lame out and grab a gift card.  I suck!

Oh, I know what I could do that’s not laundry!  The power went out last night, so all my clocks need to be reset.  There’s some fun.  Good goobies, I need to get a job or something. 

People are really mean to Jessica Simpson.  Granted, she may not be the smartest cookie on the block, but hey, I doubt the writer of the article is either.  I guess when somebody of middling talent combined with actually looking like a Barbie doll becomes rich and famous, people feel the need to take unnecessary potshots.  Why?  Because people suck, they’re petty, and they’re jealous.  It would be such a better world if we would all be our best selves at all times.  I wish I could do it!

Magnus started puppy school yesterday.  It was really fun!  We’re going to the training school at Petsmart.  I chose them for two reasons.  One, they teach the owner what to do, and then you do it.  They don’t do it for you.  And two, they got my sister’s full grown crazy dogs under control.  If you can do that, I’m all over it.  Anyway, Magnus knew sit, come, down, and off already.  This week, we’re working on “watch me” so you know you have his full attention.  We’re also continuing to work on sit because he doesn’t do it well with distractions.  We’re doing clicker training, meaning that as soon as he does what I want him to, I click the clicker.  So as soon as his bottom hits the floor on a sit, I click.  Then he gets a treat.  What he learns from this is that his action is correct at the time of the clicker, and the treat is associated with the clicker rather than his action because by the time you get the treat to a puppy, they’re usually standing back up from their sit or looking away again from their watch me.  I hope that makes sense.  Anyway, he responded really well, and I’m very happy with our first lesson.  The really nice thing is that we’re the only ones signed up for the class, so he’s getting private lessons for the price of a group class.  Yay us!

This is my first weekend on my own since the break up.  I’ve had the munchkin the other weekends (I had him a few in a row because Ex-Husband had to go out of town, plus Mother’s Day weekend, etc.).  So I’m going to get the office set up this weekend.  Ex-Boyfriend left office furniture behind (a desk, bookshelf, and filing cabinet) so that’s what I’ll use.  Right now it’s in Munchkin’s room, but he doesn’t use it.  He does his homework sitting on the bed.  I did that too when I was a kid.  So he said I could move it.  We’re going to fill the empty area of his room with this bookshelf from Ikea.  The one we want isn’t shown right now, but it’s the beech effect rather than the birch effect – i.e., it’s lighter in color.  All of his Lego models will fit in addition to his books and other knick-knacks.  I feel like I may have talked about this before.  Clearly I’m excited about it then.

Ex-boyfriend also left behind his gas grill.  It’s very nice, but I have a bit of a phobia about gas grills.  I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever use it.  I’d like to, because Munchkin loves stuff off the grill.  I really like grilled tomatoes.  But what if I do it wrong and the whole grill explodes setting me, the boy, the dog and the house on fire?  Mmm, the “what-if-game”.  How fun.  It’s not like I’m being totally unrealistic here though.  This is Texas, and we do have a ton of spiders here.  Spiders can get into the gas lines and cause leaks.  So see, it could happen, and therefore, I’m scared to use the grill.

Well, the nefarious Bush administration plan to lower gas prices by having a war is not going so well.  I would say, however, that the more likely evil plot would have been to have a war and get gas prices up in order to make larger profits for his little gas buddies.  That is going fantastically.  But we wouldn’t give him credit for being that clever, would we?  All I know is that I have changed my driving habits in order to save gas money.  I’m much better about combining trips, and I’m not taking any classes at rinks that are farther from home than my normal rink.  If they don’t have it at my rink, forget it.  My car is not a guzzler, and it still takes less than $40 to fill it up, but I don’t want to fill up more than once a week if I can help it.  I can go about 300 miles on a tank of around 14 gallons.  That’s just over 21 miles per gallon.  Not great, but certainly not an SUV!

I wish it would stop raining for a few days so I could get into the garden.  It’s rained just about every day for the entire month.  We’ve had like two nice days, and you don’t dry out enough to tromp through the garden in one day.  I need to weed badly, and the roses need pruning.  The petunias and other annuals need deadheading.  Out of all the plants out there, I think the lavender and the hibiscus are doing the best.  The lavender surprises me – it’s a drought resistant plant, so I thought it would be unhappy in all the rain.  The roses are blooming nicely too.  Some of the annuals are clearly suffering with the excess rain.  Their leaves are turning that yellowy-brown of an overwatered plant.  The fact that I was a dumbass and didn’t really amend the soil which is clay didn’t help.  All I did was add a little Miracle Grow gardening soil to the holes I dug out of the clay.  I’ll do better when I plant the fall flowers.

Stuff I can’t find:

1. My water.  I’ve misplaced it.  Once upon a time, I drank Diet Big Red constantly.  I used to lose those all the time too.  So the water isn’t special or anything.  I think it’s upstairs, and since I’m doing this right now, I don’t want to go up there and look for it.

2. The drill.  This is also reason number two of why I don’t want to go upstairs right now.  I have an unfinished project in my bathroom which is where I’m pretty sure I left the water and I don’t want to look at the unfinished-ness.  It’s not even started-ness.  I opened the box that the towel hanger is in, realized I needed a drill, and quit since I don’t know where it is.  “Garage” isn’t good enough.  I don’t want to dig.  I think that means I don’t really want to do the project today either.

Wait, I know where the water is!  It’s on my nightstand.  Mystery solved.  Nancy Drew would be … unimpressed.

3. My sister.  See, Anjelica went into labor last night, and Kim is my pipeline of information.  I can’t find her, hence I have no information.  In fact, since I didn’t check my middle of night emails (no, I don’t really ever do that), I didn’t know that Anjelica had gone into labor until late this afternoon because I was busy all day with the dentist and skating.

4. My right outside edge.  It comes and goes.  Perhaps it’ll come back tomorrow.  That is frustrating!  It was working very well last week though.

So that’s what I have lost for today.

Here’s the dentist story: I broke my nightguard last week.  I split the thing right down the middle of the left side.  Now, I don’t know if anyone but me was like, “wow, that is some awesome grinding and clenching you’re doing”, but I thought it was pretty amazing.  I had ground a bunch of holes into that side, and I guess they weakened it to the point that it just cracked.  Anyway, last Thursday I went to the dentist to get molds made for the new guard, but they called me on Friday to say one of the molds was distorted and we had to redo it.  Since I was in Austin on Friday, it had to wait until today.  In the meantime, I’m destroying my teeth all over again.  I woke myself up in the middle of the night when I ground really hard and my jaw slipped.  The sound was horrific.  Needless to say, I hope they can make this thing really fast.  Oh, it’s a new kind so it’s not supposed to break.  It’s made of a softer material than my old one which was some kind of acrylic or something.  Supposedly, it’s more comfortable as well, but the old one wasn’t uncomfortable so that’s not much of an issue.

Austin was fun.  All the plans we made were shot down by the weather though.  I bought a bathing suit so we could go to the Springs with the dogs, but it ended up being 34 degrees with sleet.  Not exactly tanning weather.  It’s weird, the last three times I went down there, it has rained most of the time I was there.  I control the weather.  Hunh.  Who knew?  Well, if that were true, I’d make it rain here more and then we wouldn’t be in a drought with sprinkler restrictions.  We’re only allowed to water once a week, and only during certain times.

The only problem with Austin was that we ate so much.  I am hugely bloated today, urgh!  So this is a major diet week.  Well, it’s supposed to be.  I have been in the Easter candy today.  The fact that I’ve allowed Easter candy in the house probably shows what a lousy dieter I am.  This is how bad it is:  I have five boxes of Hot Tamales in the secret candy drawer (uh, no wonder I need to lose weight!).  Oh yeah, they’re not wee boxes either.  They’re the big movie size that you get at Target.  Hmmm, I don’t want to put two and two together, but there it is … 

I woke up this morning to get ready for ballet and skating, and there was a surprise snowfall overnight.  I went ahead and got ready and then chickened out.  I’m not so good with the icky weather driving.  Inexperience.  However, now I wish I had gone.  This is going to sound really shitty, but I am sick and tired of playing nurse to my boyfriend and his stupid ankle.  He’s home from work today (fake sick, fake working from home), and he wants me to do his laundry while he sits here and plays a poker tournament online.  What a load of crap!!!  He says it’s because he doesn’t want to go up and down the stairs.  He’s totally capable of doing the stairs now, and I think the more he does them and the more he gets around, the better off he’ll be.  Plus, if he’s not going to work and he’s just going to play poker, he can do that upstairs with the laundry machines anyway.  (Our laundry room is upstairs because that’s where all the bedrooms are.)  I really wouldn’t mind doing it if he weren’t able.  This is getting ridiculous – I’m starting to feel like he’s really taking advantage of the situation.  Either that, or I’m a real ass.

All this crappy weather lately is really blowing my moods up.  I’m trapped inside, and it’s pissing me right off.  Can you tell?  I would love to go to the bookstore and Starbucks.  Over the holidays, I drank a ton of Peppermint Mochas.  So good!!!  Since I’m now on a diet (sorry, I’m changing my lifestyle, whatever), I only get Starbucks on Friday afternoons with my son.  He gets a decaf coffee, whichever flavor he’s in the mood for, and a toffee almond bar.  I’m not sure if it’s okay to give an almost 12 year old decaf coffee, but he likes it, so I’m going with it.  I figure it’s better than a Coke or something.  I think I’m going to try the Cinnamon Dolce Latte this week.  I’m going to have to order it with sugar-free syrup and no whipped cream to make it even remotely okay.  Good goobies, I never should’ve checked the nutritional information.  Ignorance is bliss!  Just for fun, I checked the information for the Iced Lemon Pound Cake, which I think is the best thing ever, and it has 500 calories.  Argh!!!  How did I not gain weight over the holidays?  Oh, I know, it’s because my grandmother starved us when we visited her.  That had to make up for some sins.

That’s a fun story actually.  I knew before I went there (Austin) that she wouldn’t have enough food on hand because she never does.  It’s not a financial issue at all – she just doesn’t eat much and expects that the rest of us are the same.  That’s just not so.  So before I left town, I packed a little bag of my food for emergencies.  I had some iced sugar cookies with Christmas sprinkles, a bag of Chex Mix (peanut butter chocolate, oh my gosh, yum), some crackers, peanut M&M’s, and gum.  Junk food, yes, but hey, it was the holidays.  My sister lives in Austin too, and I was staying with her, so I knew we’d at least get some food.  I got there in the evening on Saturday, and we went to the country club for dinner, so that night was fine.  Sunday morning, we went to the club again for brunch, and I knew ahead of time that there wasn’t going to be any more food until dinner, so I loaded up.  Unfortunately, it was like 11am.  So when 3 in the afternoon rolled around, Kim and I were half starved, and you just can’t go into my grandmother’s kitchen and start nosing around.  We left under the guise of needing to let Kim’s dogs out.  It was true, we did need to do that, but on the half-hour trip over to do it, we ate quite a bit of the bag of Chex Mix.  Later on, for dinner, I knew that tortilla soup was in the mix.  I figured it was like a first course – you know, like soup or salad.  There was definitely salad – I saw my mom making it.  Anyway, my cousin Ariel and I are not big fans of tortilla soup, so we skipped getting some and went into the dining room.  There was no other food on the table besides the salad.  We were both like, WTF???  Soup and salad – that was Christmas Eve dinner.  Gross!  So I had salad and had to listen to my stomach grumble all through church.  Miserable.  Needless to say, when we got back to Kim’s house, we made a second dinner (for me, Peanut M&M’s – for her, Christmas Peppermint Nougats).  Christmas day was much of the same – my grandmother made quiche for brunch (what is with these people and brunch?  Whatever happened to a separate breakfast and lunch?).  It had ham in it, and as much as I can barely stomach quiche, well, if you add ham to it, forget it.  No way in hell was that entering my mouth.  So I had a grapefruit and a breakfast roll.  Then we had to wait around til four for Christmas dinner.  Once again, we went to let the dogs out.  When we got there, we discovered that the little shits had found my cookies on the bar and had eaten them.  Grrr … apparently they were starving too!  By the time Tuesday rolled around, my grandmother had had about enough of us, so we got to eat away from her house.  No more deprivation, yay!!!

I think I’m going to have to add the category “bitch and moan” for today’s post.  Jeez Louise, my life is not so awful, but I sure am whiney today!

A new skating movie, starring Will Ferrell, is coming out.  Now that is exciting!  My coach sent me a link to the preview along with the message, “This is not going to help men in this sport one god damn bit.”  We should have known something like this was coming when there were two, yes two, ice dancing jokes in Talladega Nights.  I think it’s hysterical, but I am not a straight guy in this sport either!

In weather news, once again the doomsdayers are wrong (thus far).  They have been quite persistent in saying that we were going to be iced in, but it has yet to happen.  It has rained a ton, but no ice.  No snow, no sleet, no slush.  Just rain.  That’s fine by me though.  Unfortunately my house doesn’t have gutters yet – it was just built, and as we got into the last week before closing, I was like, “When do you put the gutters on?”  The builder said gutters were an upgrade.  WTF???  Gutters are an upgrade?!?  That’s crazy.  Actually, that is stupid.  I mean, I went through that upgrade list with a fine-toothed comb, and I definitely didn’t see gutters on the list.  They weren’t on the standard stuff list either though, so my bad I guess.  So dumb.  I need gutters soon though because all this rain is going to make a mess of my yard.  Plus it’ll mess with the foundation too, so I really don’t understand why they aren’t required to put them on.

My boyfriend just ran his hand up my leg under my flannel jammies.  (Yeah, it’s 1:30 in the afternoon, and I’m still in jammies.  I love Sundays!)  He got this horrified look on his face and made a sandpaper sound in his throat.  I laughed and said, “I told you I haven’t been shaving!”  See, when he broke his ankle, sex became an iffy proposition (although I still say I could be on top and take care of that whole problem, but he’s worried about moving his leg wrong), so I figure, why shave?  Nice, eh?  I just wear winter-weight tights to skate in, and nobody knows the difference.  At least I think they don’t.  Uh-oh, paranoia has set in … 

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