The Chocolate Had to GO
This morning, Mr. BBM called me from work at around 10:30 a.m. and asked me what I was doing. "I’m cleaning," I told him "What else would I be doing?" We’re preparing for yet another Open House. "Oh yeah, well what have you done?" he asked me.
He expected it to be a short phone call.
By 10:30 a.m. I had washed, dried, folded and put away two loads of laundry. I also had all of the "showing" linens in the washer. I had also dusted and picked up both of the girls’ rooms, made all three beds, cleaned up two bathrooms, vacuumed, swept the front sidewalk twice (our tree is dropping all of its flowers and if I don’t they all end up in our house), put away dishes in the dishwasher, loaded up the breakfast dishes, reorganized three cabinets in the kitchen and was starting to reorganize the forever multiplying mounds of toys. I swear the stuffed animals and Barbie dolls are breeding.
It wasn’t all bad though. In order to make more room in the cabinets, I ate my body weight in chocolate. My chocolate stash that no one else knew about is now completely gone. That’s right, gone. I’m not apologizing for it either. I burnt those chocolates off by noon anyway.
Children’s Day
My sister always moans and groans when she hears my answer to the question, "What do you want for your birthday/Christmas?" I always tell her the same thing: "Get me an Ann Taylor Loft gift card." I love Ann Taylor Loft. Whatever size you are in real life, you’re a size smaller in Ann Taylor’s world. It’s a wonderful ego boosting thing. Plus, their sleeves are long enough, their pants are long enough, and it’s stylish but not hoochie-mama like most of the local mall is becoming. Seriously, my mall is now catering to a median age of 14, and 14 is not what it used to be when I was a kid. I shudder to think what it will be like when my girls are old enough to shop at some of those stores. I think I’ll take up sewing and hope that M.C. Hammer pants are still very much out.
My sister hates getting me the same old thing all the time, but that is what I truly appreciate. Aside from the fact that I love that store, it’s a store that doesn’t contain a single item for children. This year, for my birthday, my sister gave me a gift card and jewelry catalog. Her friend recently started selling Amway and convinced her it was a gift I would love. I’m not much of a jewelry person. I like it simple, and real (i.e. expensive), but it works because I really wear the jewelry I do have.
It took me weeks to finally decide what the lesser of two evils would be in the catalog and I ordered my gift. A few days later it arrived in the mail. If I wear it, you can and will call me "Mr. T". I’m not kidding; it really is that bad. I know because Mr. BBM laughed so hard I thought he would die from lack of oxygen, and when he caught his breath he kept repeating, "I pity the fool who. . . [insert whatever]". Next time, she can get me a Loft gift card; because now I have to call the number on the catalog (that I already threw away) and try to get them to send me the money. Yeah, that’s going to happen.
Another reason, I just want a Loft gift card. . . Tonight, I spent my Borders gift card (from my birthday) on Big I. I also spent my entire mall gift certificate (Christmas present from my Grammom) on Big I.
As we were checking out of the final store with colorful organizing baskets in hand for her closet, I jokingly told her that she owes me on Mother’s Day.
"Why is ‘Mother’s Day’ a holiday?" Big I asked.
"Because every other day of the year is Children’s Day" I told her.
"Oh," she said.
I think she got it loud and clear. So, to those out there who might decide to buy me a gift card. Let me repeat it so it’s clear: ANN TAYLOR LOFT.
If it kills you to do the same old thing, then change it up with Pier 1 or IKEA. I beg of you though, no more Mr. T jewelry and no more gift cards to places that carry things I can buy for the girls.
Just call me Miss Gulch
When one lives in an area where there are leash laws, why do some people find it so impossible to follow the laws? Why are these people always the ones with the dangerous dogs? Why do they have to live in my neighborhood?
Reasons I Want to Move:
1. Better/Bigger yard for the kids
2. Extra bedroom for guests
3. Want a house without so many steps
4. Neighbor who leaves Christmas decorations up until April (Did I mention that she’s Jewish?), and thinks that her deck is the dumpster
5. Psycho neighbors in the back of me who still don’t get it that they need to have their damn dog on a freaking leash.
Go ahead and call me Miss Gulch. As far as I’m concerned, Dorothy should have had that dog on a leash too.
I am livid, people. LIVID. If you’ve been reading me for a while, you remember vividly (as do I) the day I was carjacked by a pit bull. Long story short, a pit bull jumped in my van, wouldn’t leave and had to be picked up by animal control. The owners were cited and a few days after my little event, the pit bulls (as in plural; they had two) attacked someone and were subsequently put down.
I was relieved that it was over. I took no joy in knowing that two animals had been put down, but I was relieved that I didn’t have to worry about the safety of my children anymore. Now, the same stupid owners who had no concept of leash laws are at it again.
Tonight I was out in my back yard watering my garden when a pit bull puppy came running into my yard. I instantly knew it was a pit bull, dropped my hose and went into my house. The dog came right up to my screen door, so I shut the main door and went bounding upstairs to spew my outrage at Mr. BBM. I went out on my deck and there was the dog, digging in my freshly mulched garden with no owner in site. I yelled at it to leave and went bounding up more stairs to report my findings.
Mr. BBM went outside and stood at the edge of our yard. The pit bull puppy came right up to him and was actually very friendly. Its owner came a few minutes later. From Lil C’s bedroom window, I hissed, "say something!" so he did.
"Dog get off its leash?" Mr. BBM inquired.
"No," its stupid owner said, "she plays with [other stupid dog that I also reported for being in my yard all the time] in his yard and ran away.
Mr. BBM then expressed his displeasure at her dog running around and told her that he preferred that she keep her dog on a leash since our girls are outside and will be afraid. (By "girls," I’m fairly certain he meant me.)
She mumbled something and walked home. I watched her walk home so I was sure it was the same house and it most certainly is. I was going to just stew about it. The puppy had been nice enough to Mr. BBM. The owner had eventually retrieved her (without an apology though). Then I talked to my other neighbor who told me that the dog was up in our yards over the weekend too. These are the same owners who raised two other animals that were violent.
The camel’s back is broken.
I called the police officer I spoke to in the past. I don’t want this becoming an issue throughout the warm months. I want to be able to be outside and not worry about some random dog coming up to us. In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m not exactly a dog person and I shouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of being carjacked again or having my garden ruined by some dog and its irresponsible owner.
I explained to the officer that I just wanted the name of the person again (I had thrown it away thinking the problem was over) so I could report the incident to the township which would send them a warning letter. I told him that enough of my neighbors already think I’m Miss Gulch and I don’t want to overreact but. . .
He cut me off. Puppy or not, friendly or not, they are breaking the law. He said he was going to personally call them and warn them to keep their dog on a leash from now on. He told me if I see the dog off its leash again, to call them immediately.
An hour before the encounter with the new pit bull, my kids were playing on the patio in their sandbox. I repeatedly came inside the house to grab them juice boxes, tissues and toys. I had finally relaxed enough to feel comfortable doing so.
Miss Gulch got a really bad wrap and was completely misunderstood; and I can NOT wait until I move.
In Search of Art
Over the weekend, a friend of mine sent me a link to this article: "For Senior, abortion a medium for art, political discourse." (Now there are all kinds of news stories saying it’s "creative fiction." For the record, the "artist" still says it’s real.) The short and not sweet version of it is basically this: some messed up chick inseminated herself multiple times over a 9 month period, then induced abortion, and took video and pictures of herself doing so in the name of art. (You should know that she’s referring to these multiple incidents as "miscarriages." FYI to the art student, it’s only a "miscarriage" if it’s a natural occurrence. It’s called abortion when you do it to yourself and want it to happen.) That’s right people; she’s displaying everything from the videos to the blood. She decided to run her body through multiple induced miscarriages/abortions to "spark conversation and debate on the relationship between art and the human body." Here’s some conversation for you on that.
I am absolutely aghast about this. What professor approves such a reckless and disgusting project? What kind of person thinks this is a good idea? This is one project that carries the whole, "my mind, my body, my choice" thing a bit too far. This type of "project" should not be an option or a choice. It’s just plain sick.
This misguided and obviously in-need-of-help individual thought she was making art, when in fact she was starting human lives and disposing of them so that she could create what she deems to be "art." What’s next? Let’s shoot people and take pictures of the aftermath to spark conversation about violence?
If she wants to do things to her own body, fine; but when she decided to use potential human lives as toys in her stupid little game, she crossed the line. I’d also like to know more about this so-called self insemination. What does that mean exactly? She had sex with random people? She went to a fertility clinic and was inseminated there? If that’s the case, I’d like to know which idiots continued to inseminate this obviously disturbed woman. When I think about all the people I know who desperately want to add to their family and can’t, it makes me even more sick. Recently there have been some seriously disturbing displays of art, but this little abortion project is the absolute worst.
Another blogger recently posted a link to pictures of dead people that was also being called "art." Readers of her blog posted hundreds of comments talking about the "beauty" of these pictures and stating that anyone who doesn’t like them can’t deal with their own mortality. Maybe I’m guilty of that, because I thought the pictures were disturbing and anything but art. But what I’d really like to know is this: when did "art" stop being Monet and Picasso and start becoming a must-push-the-limits toying with human lives and subsequent death?
If these displays are "art," then I can do without. Paint brush anyone?
Taking out the Pink
On Friday, we had new carpet installed. I am happy to report that the only pink that remains in this house is on our kitchen counter tops and in our girls’ closets. That is it. The pink is officially dead.
I had this great post written up about my trip to "Staples" this weekend which is actually code language for the bar at Chili’s, but then my computer ate it when it decided to reboot for miscellaneous stupid updates. Thanks a lot Microsoft.
So, since my creative juices are in need of lunch, I bring you yet another BBMHGTV edition of "Before and After." Now will someone please buy my house already!?!
Before:
After:
Before:
Before:
After:
Before:
After:
Potential buyers should take note that if someone offers us asking price, we think we’ll counter $5K above.
***If you missed me on Blog Talk Radio, you can listen to the replay here. Among our discussion topics: why I won’t appear naked on my blog, 100 year old birthday parties, annoying twitter people and more.
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