Sunday, May 31, 2009

Note: now with working comments!

It was brought to my attention that my comments weren't working on my previous entry. And that is because I fail and made a change that somehow disabled them. They should be working now, so please go back and weigh in if you are so inclined.

Thanks to Krystyn for alerting me!

To breed or not to breed, that is the question.

Yesterday evening we were unloading groceries from the car when our next door neighbor walked up with two itsy-bitsy little blond girls in tow. He introduced himself--he's in the Australian Air Force and is here until August for training. He said that his wife and daughters had just arrived for a month-long visit.

The girls are ADORABLE. They remind me of me and my sister when we were small, and appear to have a similar age gap. The older girl is five or so, and was wearing one of those Disney store Cinderella dresses. The younger is two or three. They had been down to the pond in the middle of our complex to see the ducks, and had come back to get some bread so the girls could feed them.

When I see lovely, well-behaved children like them, I think to myself that those are the kind of kids I would want, if we were to have kids. Most of the time, though, the children I see in public are so ill-behaved that I swear to myself that we are never reproducing. When we lived in Massachusetts, the kids we saw most often were Jason's nephews. I will simply say that the two of them do not inspire me to attempt motherhood.

I'm so torn on the subject. So ambivalent. I know that I have plenty of time left to have kids, so we're not sweating it. Jason is firmly in the "maybe someday, but not now" camp. It's nice to be on the same page in this regard. And so far both of our families have kept the "when are you going to have kids" badgering to a minimum. I'm the second youngest grandchild on my mom's side of the family (my sister is the youngest), so most of my cousins have already squeezed out kids. I'm the oldest grandchild on my dad's side, but my cousin is pregnant and has a stepson. And Jason's sister has two boys to keep his parents busy. I know my mother is anxious for grandbabies (and has names in mind), but now that my sister is engaged I am totally putting that on her. She, after all, definitely wants kids someday. We've mostly avoided the firing squad from both wings of the family thus far.

Actually, the people who are the most inappropriate about it are Navy people. When they find out that Jason is married, they always ask if we have kids (which is a fine question in and of itself). But when he says that we do not, they inevitably follow up with "why not?" I find this question offensive on multiple levels and if it were posed to me, I would feel compelled to respond rudely, because A) it's not your business, and B) why the hell do you HAVE kids?

There are so many things that we want to do and continue doing in our lives that do not accommodate children. For example, I can't imagine going to Six Flags with a child and still enjoying it. I can't imagine enjoying a lazy Sunday with children. I can't imagine having any sort of adult fun with a child around--and I am not ready to give up my adult fun. I am not ready to give up drinking swearing like a sailor's wife. I am not ready to give up the ability to hop in the Corvette and go wherever the road takes us. I am not ready to put myself second. I don't know if I ever will be.

There are plenty of bloggers around who are parents and seem to still enjoy such grownup pursuits. Frankly, I don't know how you ladies do it.

Maybe I was born without the "mothering" gene. I find the thought of being pregnant and giving birth utterly undesirable. Everything about having children sounds so inconvenient and annoying (far more so than having cats).

So I want to hear from you, readers, about your thoughts on children. Have them? Want them? Fear them? Hate them? I know my readership is a mixed bag, so some of you are in the same place in life as me, and some of you are already or are soon to be parents. Am I alone in my thinking? Am I completely normal? Will I ever stop being a self-absorbed cat lady who prefers booze to breastmilk? Are Ashlynne and Evelynne babies in my future, or should I adopt of couple of rabbit sisters and use those names on them? Please, weigh in--I'd especially like to hear from new readers. If you've never commented before, now's the time!

For the moment, I enjoy my self-indulgent existence and rarely worry about whether or not I am wearing pants, let alone whether or not my spawn is.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009


I have not died (yet). Nor have I been in a coma (as I previously suggested). But I have been recovering from the pimple of doom that took up residence on my chin. It never got the memo that I am 26 years old and no longer rent out space on my face.

In the time I've been gone, I have:

  • Gone to Six Flags Magic Mountain twice.
  • Made appearances at Saddle Ranch and the Universal City Hilton again. I enjoyed both of these even more than the first time. (There was debauchery, but I'm told that certain visitors to this blog don't want to read about that. Should we put it to a vote?)
  • Been metal detector-wanded and frisked for concealed weapons (at Saddle Ranch).
  • Found a veterinarian here and taken Jasper in for his introductory traumatizing physical. It cost half what it did in Massachusetts. My cat costs spreadsheet was so proud of me.
  • Clogged the toilet with kitty litter so badly that it sent a geyser of poopy water pouring out onto the bathroom floor.
  • Steam cleaned the bathroom, entryway, and kitchen floors--the latter two for good measure since they're near the former.
  • Been deluged with angry e-mails about maple syrup. Seriously. My job is bizarre sometimes.
  • Gone to Preferred Outlets in Tulare and spent a dollar amount equal to my weight at the Gap Outlet. I am a coupon master. I am also now in possession of enough clothing to dress for hot weather year-round. Moving to a different climate is expensive.
Good times.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Hypochondriac, much?

This weekend I decided that I have several health issues that are probably going to cause me to die.

It started when I sustained a blunt force trauma head injury yesterday morning.

You might recall the sob story of how our box spring will be leaning against the wall in the living room until we move out of our current apartment. Well, Jacob is still enamored with sitting on top of it. In fact, he is stretched out up there right now, fast asleep.

So yesterday, Jason and I were sitting on the couch. Jacob hopped his fuzzy butt up onto the box spring, causing it to tip away from the wall. The first obstacle it met on its way down was the back of my head. The wooden edge of the box spring whacked me so hard that I saw stars and couldn't think straight. Jacob, of course, just held on and enjoyed the ride, then sat there like nothing had happened. Jason was leaning forward when it tipped, so he only got bumped on the back. I was momentarily stunned, but my head quickly started to throb. The tears began flowing and I hid my face in Jason's lap. Being the sensitive man that he is, he told me that I was just upset from the shock of being so startled. Um, no, you douche, it's the pain from being WHACKED IN THE SKULL WITH A BOARD that's upsetting me.

So my first death is going to be due to my head injury. Like Natasha Richardson. I figure I'm lucky I even woke up this morning. If you don't hear from me for a few days, it's probably because I have fallen into a blunt force trauma-induced coma. Thanks, Jacob!

My second death is going to be from skin cancer. I was reading an article about it in an issue of Ladies' Home Journal, and there was an example picture of squamous cell carcinoma (shown here). I've decided that I have that on my arm. A doctor has told me before that this particular spot is fine, but I know better because LHJ says so.

My third death is going to be because I have cavities in my teeth. I've never had one before, but I might as well have some since I'm already dying.

In other news, it was 102 degrees here today. I probably have heatstroke, too.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

24 years ago today...

...My little sissy appeared on the scene and became my best friend in the whole world.

HB, DJ Cake!


DJ Solo

Monday, May 11, 2009

I am Kellie Pickler and my sister is drunk.

Our weekend started on a sad note when we took our friend Black Kitty to Animal Control on Thursday. The people who lived here prior to us left her behind when they got orders to Japan (assholes). She would sit at our sliding glass door every morning and evening, waiting for her people to come home. Of course, we knew they weren't coming back for her (assholes). So I fed her for a month and a half and earned her trust. After several botched attempts, I was finally able to stuff her in a carrier Thursday afternoon. I would have loved to have kept her, but a fourth cat is not an option for us right now. Letting her stay outside was not an option, either. My heart broke to turn her in. Even my big strong husband got choked up. I know we did the right thing, but it didn't make it any easier to walk away from her. People who abandon their animals should be shot (assholes).

Friday evening we rented Repo! The Genetic Opera on the PS3. Saturday we both got our hairs did, Jason at the barber shop and me at the mall. Here's me, before and after (and the Kellie Pickler cut I was aiming for):

Hooray. I guess my lipstick rubbed off. The stylist tried to convince me to get some highlights, but all I really need to do to get those is spend some time in the sun. And Jason is totally anti-fake (hair and boobs--too bad, Pickler).

After my haircut we saw a matinee showing of X-Men Origins: Wolverine. I think I liked it more than Jason did. Hugh Jackman and Liev Schreiber, yes please.

We still had the wanderlust when the movie got out, so we went to another, bigger mall so I could buy perfume and a bra at Victoria's Secret. I have been wanting a jasmine perfume since swooning over a tree of it at the Japanese Garden, and I finally found one.

We were then morally obligated to go to Olive Garden for dinner, since it was right across the street. That's where things started to get interesting. I ordered their Italian margarita, which comes with a shot of amaretto liqueur for some reason. Fine by me, I like amaretto. I then proceeded to have the following text conversation* with my sister over the course of dinner, dessert, another margarita+shot, and the ride home:

Her, 6:42 PM: I am drunk

Her, 6:43 PM: Haha

Me, 7:21 PM: I bought vs bra and perfume now we go to olive garden

Her, 7:29 PM: I like food

Her, 7:48 PM: Mango vodka

Me, 7:50 PM: Are you guys at home? (not drinking yet, concerned for her wellbeing)

Me, 7:56 PM: J just said "as long as you don't smell like poop im good"

Her, 8:18 PM: Yes we are home we bought a deep fryer and an ice cream maker we are in love

Her, 8:29 PM: I have hiccups

Me, 8:30 PM: I have margarita

Her, 8:32 PM: We had mango

Her, 8:40 PM: We had mango-ritas last night. Mango sorbet with tequila and mango vodka and lime juice. Tonight we had orange juice and champagne and mango vodka. Called the mango-mosa cocktail. We like to get drunk. I get silly. And easy. Haha.

Her, 8:51 PM: I just did cornholio tp for my bunghole for my mr. Haha. He still loves me!

Me, 9:53 PM: I am

Me, 9:54 PM: Also inebriated

Her, 9:56 PM: Watching x files movie jason is drunk too. We love you! (her fiancé is also named Jason)

Me, 9:58 PM: I am in the car also i just burped

Her, 10 PM: We think you are funny. Also we love your beebeards. (my cats)

Me, 10:05 PM: I dropped a nut down my bra at dinner and i just got it out and jason ate it

Her, 10:08 PM: We are both freaks. It okay.

And this is why the two of us need colossal text messaging plans.

I miss my sissy.

* recreated here with permission

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Universal Booze-dios

Amigos, I have been absent. (And since today is Cinco de Mayo, I have a little bit of the salsa going on. Deal with it.) Has it been ten days already? Si? My apologies.

I will tell you what I've been spending most of my time doing, but not just yet. Next time. Right now I want to tell you what I did over the weekend.

We jumped in the Corvette and took a road trip south to Universal Studios! I know I just got finished saying that we couldn't do anything like that for a while, but I'm pretty sure my words to Jason were that we had to wait until "next month." And he held me to my word by waiting a whole five days for April to turn into May, that tricky boy.

As it turns out, Universal Studios is kind of boring. And I got wet four times--three of which were not watery attractions. Getting wet when you're not expecting and/or intending to is annoying. But I was amused by the Japanese tourists wearing surgical masks (to, I assume, avoid the swine flu that we dirty Americans are all spreading around).

It wasn't until after we left the park that the real fun began. See, right outside Universal Studios is the Universal CityWalk, a cluster of restaurants and stores and flashing lights. We had dinner at Wolfgang Puck L.A. Bistro, then moseyed over to Saddle Ranch Chop House for dessert (Jason) and a drink (me).

This is where things started to get interesting. To set the scene, Saddle Ranch is the kind of establishment that has two mechanical bulls and the waitstaff's dress code is Western Skank. I ordered the Texas Tea Party, their version of a Long Island iced tea. I was presented with a jug of booze that, at any other establishment, would have come with straws for several people. Our waiter told me that it was at least 28 ounces--well more than half of which consisted of alcohol. I told Jason I was glad that I already had dinner in me. He wondered aloud how on Earth I was going to drink all of that and remain ambulatory. Homeslice underestimates me.

While I'm sucking it down, some guys with guitars start making the rounds to each table, playing whatever song the people wanted to hear. They played some Journey for the bachelorette party nearby, which I sang along to at the top of my lungs. Then they hit our table. I was too far along in my liquor to think to request New Kids on the Block, so Jason requested punk rock. They played a song to which I vaguely knew the chorus lyrics, so I sang that, too. Jason told me I somehow managed to sing the right notes the whole time. Then our waiter came over to tell us that since we were his first table of the night, he was going to bring us over some shots on the house. We drained those and I emptied my jug o'booze.

Jason had ordered a beer with dinner, so after the shot he wasn't sure he wanted to drive three hours home. We (well, he) decided to take a walk around to see what the hotels cost (I just laughed at everything he said). We ended up retrieving the car and driving around the corner when we were stopped in our tracks by steep declines and fences. In my inebriated state, this was SO HILARIOUS. We rolled into the L.A./Universal City Hilton, which gave Jason a steep discount for being active duty military.

Up in our room, Jason hopped in the shower and I played with all the fun toys I could find, including the earthquake instructions. They would have been funny to me sober, but that night they were THE BEST THING I had ever read. I'm pretty sure I didn't have any pants on in this picture.

By the time I got around to playing with the shower cap, I didn't have any clothes on at all. I know, my life is so scandalous.

After Jason's shower we found our way down to the hotel bar, where he had some fruity little drink and I had a mojito. Compared to Saddle Ranch, the hotel bar was a snooze-fest, so we went back to our room. We considered raiding the mini-bar, but thought better of it and went to bed.

The whole time I couldn't help but feel like we were on some wonderfully Fitzgeraldian bender like Gloria and Anthony from The Beautiful and Damned. I'm a literary snob even while drunk. I think F. Scott would approve.

The next morning while enjoying the insanely gorgeous view of the pool nine stories below and the Hollywood hills looming above, we noticed that the Vivid Entertainment Group office was right across the street (it's the blue-ish building on the bottom left). I have no real reason for telling you this, I just feel like it's worth mentioning.

We had breakfast at the Hilton brunch buffet, where I ate two plates towering with fresh fruit. It was heavenly. If this is what California weekends are like, count me in.

Except for the part where I kept getting wet.