LUCK OF THE IRISH... (or not!)

HAPPY SAINT PATRICK'S DAY!

I might not be Irish, but this is such a fun little holiday.  The kids are all dressed in green to avoid pinches.  Tonight we, along with millions of other people across the globe, will be dining on corned beef and cabbage.  That should make for a fragrant day tomorrow.  It shouldn't come as any surprise that March 18th is the unofficial International Day of Flatulence.  (care to guess the REAL culprit behind the hole in the ozone layer?)

This was the last morning of my 'single parent' stint, and the Oompas decided that now was the perfect time for their grand finale type show down.  Art and Rocky were at it almost from the moment they rolled out of bed.  The only thing that kept them from joining the heads on the Dead Room wall was the fact that I had already consumed one cup of coffee and was working on my second.  They have both lost their computer and gaming privileges for the day.  Dickidoo should be home this evening.  I shall relinquish custody to him at that time.

Speaking of Dickidoo... he is due in some time today.  Unfortunately he neglected to give me any flight information, flight number, arrival time... you know... minor stuff like that... so he either better find the time to contact me sometime during his lay overs or he's going to have a long walk home from the airport.  And my baby better be fully charged and ready to go because I'm in the mood for some picture taking! 

There was an email waiting this morning from Gabe.  He wanted us to know that he was safe, and that he might be coming home on leave a little earlier than originally planned.  Woo Hoo x2!  And guess what?  That means I'll get to see Little Zachary sooner as well!  Make that Woo Hoo³!  I'd be walking on air right now if I weren't so heavy!

Like my Diddls?  There's more here: DIDDLWORLD

GUEST PHOTOGRAPHER: Dickidoo

Okay, as Plittle pointed out in his comment in an earlier entry, I may have been a little unfair in my critique of Dickidoo's picture.  Maybe........  But let me point out that more often than not he expects me to snap pictures from a moving... nay.... a speeding vehicle rather than him stopping and pulling over so that I can get a better picture so naturally I would expect better from him under the same circumstances.  Now, perhaps I may have under emphasized his photographic abilities by just a smidgen because he has been taking pictures... good pictures... for many years now and is no stranger behind the lens of an SLR but he does not approach the art with the same passion and devotion or obsession as I and so there exists the rivalry of his casual weekend photographer approach to my photo-maniac papparazi style.   

Once I scoffed about his need for so many different guns.  There was the 'deer in the field' gun, the 'elk on the mountain' gun, the 'duck in the pond' and the 'goose in the sky' guns.  It never ends.  Now he has turned the tables on me as I demand a 'flower in the garden' lens, the 'bug on the flower in the garden' lens, a 'bird in the sky lens' and of course the 'feather on the bird in the sky' lens.  And yes, it never ends!

So anyhow, in all fairness, I would like to direct you over to my photo journal when I am featuring a couple of Dickidoo's pictures that he took with my baby yesterday.  And grudgingly I must admit that they are okay, I suppose, in a casual, weekend photographer, auto-focus kind of way.

GUEST PHOTOGRAPHER: My husband Steve

DICKIDOO DOES DC...

Look, its Dorn Plaza!  Well, actually its Van Dorn Plaza, but hey, it's still me! 

Hmmmm, I'll bet theres a coffee shop (with hazelnut creamer of course!), and a liquor store with a Corona banner out front!  And Michelle's Chocolates!  And a steak house.  Any plaza that bears my name on it would have to have a steak house in it.  And Barnes and Nobel!  And a Home Depot.   Oh... and a bank, which would give me free money since, after all, it is my plaza!  My very own plaza, and in the nation's capitol.  How cool is that! 

Hmmmmm, is it just me or is that picture a little fuzzy there Dickidoo? 

QUESTION OF THE DAY:

If you saw someone with a long nose hair protruding from their nostril, would you tell them?

I was raised not to point out a person's imperfections and so I would have to say that no, I would not mention it.  Apparently all of my co-workers and customers were also raised that way.

My children somehow, but very obviously were not.  (?) 

Art and Becca had a half day today and rode back to work with me after lunch.  We spent my last break at the store's Subway where Art so delicately pointed out 'Dang Mom, you have a huge nose hair sticking out!'   I ran to the restroom, grabbed the hair with both hands and pulled with all my might.  Tears streamed down my cheeks from the pain and for some reason my right eye twitched but the hair wasn't budging.  So I spent the last two hours of my shift constantly wiping my nose in the hopes that I might eventually be able to wipe the hair away, or at the very least stuff it back up my nose.  By the way, the stuffing of the hair back in the nose is only a temporary fix.  It will blow back out with your next breath.

You can bet that immediately upon my return home I hauled out the scissors and cropped my nose-fro.  When it was all over, the sink looked like the floor of a boot camp barber shop.  I don't see how I managed to breath with all that hair up there!  All I can say is that I'm in some serious trouble if that old saying about cut hair growing back 3x thicker proves to be true!

Nose Grooming Salon 

DAY 3... (edited.. with pictures!)

        

Day 3 without my baby.  Agh!  At least I have coffee this morning.  Dickidoo sent me some pictures last night that he had taken with my baby while visiting some old friends of ours (old as in we've known them for a long time, not old as in age because they are younger than we are).  He even took pictures of their supper.  They had beef roulades and spaetzel.  We had taco-roni and cheese.  Yeah, its sucks to be me sometimes!  (Hi Doris, I miss you!  Come cook for me!)

Zack went to see the occupational medicine doctor yesterday.  Its official, when he rolled that pallet of water softener salt over his foot the other night he fractured his toe.  Now he is hobbling around with a velcro slipper on.  He got it extra large in an effort to prevent accidental bumping against the injured toe.  In actuality the extra length serves as a paddle that knocks and bumps everything in his path.  I don't think he's figured it out yet, but if he knocks one more thing over in my presence I'm going to chop that foot off myself!  Agh!

Okay, I'm okay.  Got a caffeine refill.  I'll be fine in a second.

OFF TO A BAD START...

After a very long delay due to engine problems, Dickidoo and his partners in crime finally made it to Alexandria.  Apparently the plane blew an engine before they could board and instead of taking off at 8am they left at close to 2pm.  He had his laptop with him so Dickidoo shot me an instant message.  I was a sympathetic wife.  I told him that it was fortunate that the engine didn't wait until after they were in the air to blow.  Silently I breathed a sigh of relief.  My baby was safe!  And so was Dickidoo.

I guess they got a little turned around once they got there.  "All the streets are one way, going in the wrong direction", Dickidoo said.  They finally had to ask directions from an immigrant taxi driver.  I wish I could have seen that.... 3 men actually breaking down and asking a foreigner for directions in their own country! 

If I thought it was going to be peaceful around the house with my husband gone I was wrong.  He forgot to take the Oompas with him.  The three youngest had been hoarse all week, and yesterday... miraculously they all got their voices back just in time to drive me absolutely insane!  Its been like a chicken coop with ceaseless chattering and squawking.

And I have no coffee!

Can't blame this one on anyone but myself.  I remembered to pick up the creamer, but forgot the Folgers.  There was no 'best part of waking up' to be had this morning.   To make matters worse, I feel like crud!  I don't know if I'm having a relapse of the coodies the kids were passing around, or if I'm just going through caffeine withdrawals.  All I can say is that it really sucks to be me right now.
   

GONE....

My baby has gone to Washington DC.

Dickidoo went too.

He rolled my Nikon camera up in his laundry and stuffed it in his suitcase like a $6 Kodak disposable.  No air, no room to get comfortable.  Just socks, jeans and man-panties.

5 days is a long time without my camera.  But I got a new lens out of the deal so I'm trying not to complain too much.  I'll just bide my time... here, alone, with empty hands, and restless fingers... watching hundreds of photo opportunities pass me by... helpless, useless, wasted.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!  I want my camera back NOW!

ROCKY'S CLASSROOM CODE

I found a neatly folded piece of paper in Big Red and when I opened it, I discovered that I held in my hands the decryption of a super secret classroom code.  Apparently the days of passing notes down the row of wooden desks from hand to hand without being detected by the watchful eyes of the teacher are long gone.  Kids today are too smart for that.  Kids today have an intricate code that consists of taps, knocks, kicks, snaps, clicks, chomps and stomps!

1 tap on desk = Hey

2 taps on desk = Waz up!?

3 taps on desk = (gets others attention)

4 taps = I need to pass a note to you (emergencies only!)

1 kick against desk = How R U?

2 kicks against desk = Fine, how R U?

3 kicks against desk = "I feel horrible"

4 kicks against desk = wicked!

2 kicks at once = Why?

1 snap = Hold on

2 snaps = I want pudding!

1 chomp = I itch

2 chomps = You suck!

1 click = No, You do!

1 stomp = Yes

2 stomps = No

3 stomps = Monkey!

4 stomps = Llama!

5 stomps = (Jane Doe)  is stupid!

6 stomps = I know

7 stomps = So do I.

I found myself shaking my head in amazement as I read over the code, wondering why I hadn't thought of such a code when I was in grade school.  It would have saved me a lot of standing in the corner, nose on blackboard and writing 'I will not pass notes in the class' 100 times.  I can't help but wonder though what Rocky and her little co-conspirators could possibly need a code word for 'monkey' or 'llama' for.

My favorite is 5 stomps.  I removed the real name because some of Rocky's friends moms actually read this journal and I would hate to start some kind of morse code war in her classroom because of this post. 

PIRATES OF THE CARRIBEAN CEREAL, and my baby.

The best part of waking up may be Folgers in my cup, but the second best part of waking up would have to be Captain Jack Sparrow in my bowl!  Oh yeah!  Pour it on baby!

Phew.... okay, enough about Johnny Depp's sugary goodness.  Lets talk about Dickidoo shall we? 

Aghhhhhhhh!

He has filed for joint custody of my baby, my Nikon.  Last night he actually asked for a schedule for the days when he can have her.  And he plans on taking her out of the state when he goes to DC in a couple of weeks.  I'm already getting the shakes just thinking about it.  I don't trust him.  He left her at work one night, all alone, with nobody to keep her warm and safe.  Someone could have stolen her!  I gave him more than just a little piece of my mind, after all, one wouldn't leave a child at work over night so why would one think it was okay to leave the Nikon at work over night.  And not just any Nikon.... MY NIKON!

I picked up some batteries for my Minolta.  Its an old 33mm SLR.  We've had it for 16 years.    What the heck.... I should make Dickidoo take the Minolta!  But wait, I still remember when the Minolta was my baby.  I've captured a lot of wonderful memories with it.  Perhaps I can get it to work its magic for me again.  If I can only remember how it works.... 

CONQUERING MY FEARS... (or not!)

I don't consider myself to be fearless but I am very proud of how I conquered my fear of roller coasters during a visit to Disneyland two summers ago.  I do not let my fear of heights interfere with my hunting trips.  I distract myself from my fear of the dark by concentrating on the beauty of the night sky.  I'm a hunter for goodness sakes!  I've shared the woods with lions and tigers and bears, oh my!  (okay, maybe not tigers, but definitely mountain lions and bears).

But when it comes to spiders I am a weenie!  So I guess if I were to have the pooh scared out of me, what better place for it to happen then while I was sitting on the toilet!

It has always been my experience that when a spider comes too close for comfort all I would have to do would be to make a movement and the creepy crawler would scurry away in the opposite direction.  Well, that was not the case this evening.  In fact the arachnid actually ran closer.  So I pushed the little bathroom rug at it to shoo it away.  Again, all it did was to invite the bug to come closer. 

What's the absolute worst thing to happen while you're sitting on the toilet with your drawers down around your ankles.  'Seeing a spider?' you say?  'Nay' says I.  The absolute worst thing that can happen while you're sitting on the toilet with your drawers down around your ankles is to see a spider... and then to suddenly NOT see a spider!

Let me tell you, I totally freaked.  Not the screaming type of freaking out because I didn't want Dickidoo and the Oompas bursting in to the bathroom to find me standing on the toilet seat with the full moon shining brightly as I oogled frantically for the where abouts of my unwelcomed visitor.  No, I was silently hysterical.  I did a quick swipe-n-wipe, shook my pants out to make sure there was nothing else in them before I yanked them up and swoosh, I was out of that bathroom like a bat out of Hades. 

I don't even recall if I flushed but you know what?  I don't care!  Ewwwww!  I HATE spiders!  Please, oh please let that icky spider stay in the bathroom tonight.  And please oh please don't make me have to pee in the middle of the night.  I'll wet myself before going back in there tonight.

PIN-UP OF THE MONTH, and floogers

Trust Gabe to get something as awkward as a giant mallet and turn it into a GQ photo opportunity.  He sent me loads of pictures yesterday but I have to check with him as to which ones can be displayed in public before posting them.  I'm thinking that might be his bunk behind him, as you know, the housekeeping trait is a dormant gene in my pool.

I think I finally fell asleep a few minutes before the alarm went off at 5:30.  Dickidoo didn't say anything about the pokes in the ribs.  In fact, he seemed quite bright-eyed and bushy tailed this morning... that dog!

Do you know what a 'flooger' is?  A 'flooger' is a booger that sticks to your finger or nostril no matter how hard you flick or wipe.  Its amazing the things one can learn from kids isn't it?

INSOMNIA

It is after 1 a.m. and I am still awake.  I have just indulged in my favorite midnight snack of beer and chocolate for lack of anything better to do and now on top of the insomnia I think I'm wired on caffeine.  What to do.... what to do......

I should go to bed, I should have gone a long time ago, but then I'll just lie awake for hours listening to Dickidoo snore, and that just makes me mad.  Don't get me wrong, his snoring doesn't make me mad... its the fact that he can sleep while I can't that irritates me. 

I could poke his ribs.  That always makes him snort and shut up for a while.  Sometimes he'll even try to speak, but he isn't awake so he sounds like a Neanderthal.  That won't help me sleep, but its always entertaining. 

FARTING FOR FUN AND $

Dickidoo and I went to the Comedy Corner last night.  We don't go out much now that I seem to be blessed with working every weekend night.  So we go there to take advantage of the free admission we were provided, sat in the no-smoking section of Loonee's that is separated only by an aisle between the tables and apparently some special smoke repelling force field that is naked to the human eye but is able to keep the second hand smoke contained in the other half of the room because there is no other visible barrier.

2 hours later and $42 poorer I came out of the club still giggling about the show.  You want to know what?  Between those three comedians there were more fart and turd references than in the entire Dust Bunny archives!  And that can only lead me to determine that #1) bodily functions ARE funny (they actually got paid to talk about farts!) and #2) I must refine my material and start charging!  There is money in farts.  Bring on the burritos!

As for the smoke resistant force field... it actually seemed to work... on the smoke that is.  Unfortunately the smell still got through to the non smoking section and I came home smelling like an ashtray.

Ah, but what a fun night it was!

BLOG JOG (edited)

Since my 15 minutes of fame as AOL Journals Guest Editor and my subsequent lay off, I have encountered a treasure tro of new reading material in the form of journals.  Some of these journals are new and some are just new to me.  One was an old favorite which got moved and renamed, removed and reborn and yet its charm remains.  I could save these for my next term in office, but lets face it... it took me almost 2 years to make it the first time around and with new journals being added daily I don't foresee a return visit any time soon.  Besides, it would be an injustice to keep these wonderful journals a secret, so, without further ado or typos, may I present my un-official-no-longer-guest-editor-of-the-week-picks:

The Diatom Project :  This is not a new journal, but I discovered it during my featured week.  When I read this I think I should be offering comfort and support, and yet it is I who comes away comforted and feeling stronger.  This is a touching love story laced with sadness, strength, and puzzles! 

Deatha's Theory :  Now this IS a brand spankin new journal and yet after just 2 entries I have already been inspired by the message.  Be yourself.  Caution... don't read this if you can't handle a free-thinking, self confident woman.

The Wisdom of a Distracted Mind : Another new journal, but not new to writing.  I have really enjoyed this slant on things.  Funny, yet serious.  Not seriously funny, but definitely not seriously serious either.  Its a thinker.

Involuntary Motion:  Old favorite, new journal.  This is Richards Bend reborn.  I was so disappointed when the other journals closed down and the final one had not been updated since mid December.  I had intended to present it as one of my featured picks.  Today, on a fluke, I clicked the dormant link and there was a new entry which contained a two word link.  I clicked the link and poof!  There it was, in fresh, vibrant color, like it had never been gone.

I hope you will check these journals out, because if you do I can almost guarantee that you will enjoy them as much as I do.

There, that's my good deed for the day.  Now am I forgiven for my weather report tantrum earlier?

JUST LIKE JOLIE!

            

I've been trying to figure out what the big fuss about Angelina Jolie is all about and I have decided that it is her lips.  Well, pooh, that's nothing a little botox can't fix (or Paintshop in this case).   A little warp here, a little warp there and I too can have full, voluptuous lips just like Angelina.  And you know what else?  I've got more boob and butt then she ever will, and they're all ME baby, no imported fat cells, silicone layers or chemical injections.  Its all USDA 100% pure home grown ME!  It just don't get much better than that. 

I just wish there was a way to divert a little from my waist up to my boobs, cos I got the volume, it just kind of all slid to the front and is drooping in a downward slope, leaving the rest of the mountain range a little... sparse so to speak.

THEY WENT TO SCHOOL FOR THIS?

                       

Partly cloudy?  Partly?  Who are they kidding, there's no 'partly' about it.  Its fricken completely cloudy.  In fact, its not 'cloudy', its just 'cloud'.  The sky is completely covered by one BIG CLOUD!  There is no sun.  Nada.  Nothing.  Zip.   And no mountains, no horizon.  Just one BIG GREY CLOUD.  And snow.  Snow?  Now wait a minute... nowhere on that forecast is there any mention of snow!  Just what exactly do they study in meteorology class anyways?  I'll bet Miss Cleo could do a better job at predicting the weather by looking into a tea cup. 

THINGS THAT MAKE YOU GO... 'EWWWWW'!

Three words:

"Recycled Toilet Paper"

You know what?  I don't think so!  Even I am not that desperate!

MORNINGS

THE BEST PART OF WAKING UP:

*  Folgers in my cup, definitely!

*  Sunshine through my eyelids.

*  The sweet sound of a bird's serenade outside my window.

*  Cold water splashed on my face.

*  The taste of Crest.

*  The smell of cooking bacon, especially if someone else is cooking it.

THE WORST PART OF WAKING UP:

*  No Folgers in my cup.

*  The bedroom light in my eyes.

*  The screeching sound of Dickidoo's alarm 1 hour before I have to get up.

*  The feel of a cold toilet seat on my hiney.

*  The taste in my mouth before Crest.

*  The smell of my mouth before Crest!

MOM AND DAD READ 'DUST BUNNIES'

I spoke to my Mom and Dad yesterday.  Funny how when I talk to them, I still feel like a kid.  That's not bad, mind you... its not like they intimidate or belittle me.  Quite the contrary, they have treated me with respect for more years than I actually deserved.  For that reason I adore them even more.  But I still feel like their little girl when I talk to them.

My Mom doesn't get on the computer much.  My Dad is one of my most loyal readers of Dust Bunnies.  He reads some of my entries aloud to my mother.  I am glad.  Now I don't feel guilty about not writing to them.  Yesterday Mom described my writing as 'eloquent'.  What a wonderful compliment.

I can only assume that she was not referring to my recent 'fart' entry.

ALGE-WHAT?

(got this one from Scalzi's By The Way)

Einstein Blackboard: (write your own messages)
Its no secret that I have always hated math... especially Algebra!  I am of the belief that numbers are for counting and letters are for spelling.  The only time the two should be mixed is when you are actually spelling the number, like the number 1 is spelled 'one'.  That's it.  None of that (x² + y³ = z).  That's just crazy.  That's not math, that's jumbled up refrigerator magnets!  But I did take the time and effort to learn 1 (one) formula, and it is with great pride that I share this mathematical brilliance with the late great Einstein. 

X + Y = WTF