Marriage, Morning Sickness, Mommy
Hoagie
There is this thing... long gone now, but you were to "Go over here and nominate your favorite amature blogger for a Hoagie".
The categories are:
Guess who won! Not me!
Thanks to the moron, my car has been in the shop since just after Christmas.
THE BUS
DH has been taking me to work. I’ve either bummed rides or taken the bus home for the last two weeks. Taking the bus isn’t for sissys! Apparently, one needs to know NorthEast from NorthWest in order to find one’s bus stop. Who knew!? I have not completely mastered this skill, so I miss my transfers, have to make friends with strange people who seem to know where they’re going, bla bla bla…
I need to lose some weight. I’m tired, I’m stressed, a ton of stuff going on at work, so this morning was not the morning to start “dieting.” I made a deal with myself, as I was leaving the house at 6:30 a.m., that I would drink my water today. No dieting, no meal planning, no guilt… just drink my water. Baby steps, right?
6:30 a.m.: Chugged 16 ounces of chilled filtered tasty water, and ran out the door.
7:30 a.m.: Half a cup of Really Bad Coffee while waiting for my ride.
8:30 a.m.: Got set up for a conference at work and had another half cup of Really Bad Coffee.
9:00 a.m.: Last night we bought seventy 16 ounce bottles of clean tasty water for today's all-day conference. I can drink water when I’m bored, its just something to do… I’ll get my 6-8 glasses in with no problem.
2:30 p.m.: The conference was boring enough to require a total of 3 bottles of water.
3:30 p.m.: Got a ride with someone who insisted on buying me a soda, because he wanted to stop for one. Sugar and caffeine don’t really count toward “drink water” but: Smile, nod, accept the soda. I asked for an Arnold Palmer.
He bought me a 44 oz Arnold Palmer.
44oz Arnold Palmer
I new better. I really did. I put off drinking it. I carried it back to my office, finished working, caught the bus. Had a sip. Changed buses, had a sip. Got bored, had a couple more sips.
Its an hour long bus ride. Half way into it, most of the Arnold Palmer was gone.
... 30 minutes til my stop: Maybe there won’t be many people to pick up. I’ll make it home.
... 20 minutes til my stop: I’d get off and use the restroom in Starbucks, but then I’d have to wait an hour for the next bus to come by. I really wish this bus came more than every hour.
... 15 minutes til my stop: Oh… that woman walks so slow! Hurry up and sit down so the bus can leave.
... 10 minutes til my stop: Hmm Hmm Hmm La La Laaaaa. Almost there, almost there, almost there.
... 5 minutes til my stop: Are we going by any markets where I could get off the bus and go? I could just walk the extra few blocks home! No, of course not! Cockamamie little town!
By the time I got off the bus, I had a nice little plan to run home. Except that I was so full and so cramped, I could barely hobble. Suddenly, this was not a few blocks, but an endless marathon.
I considered backtracking and trying to find a business where I could use the restroom, but the crosswalk signal on this corner is soooooooooooooo slow!
Only one way to go: home.
Its amazing what options I considered while hobbling the last half-mile home.
I could knock on someone's door: except its late, and I wouldn’t be able to keep the half-crazed look off my face when they answered. I’d probably freak them out.
I could sit down on the curb between two parked cars: except that I’d get arrested if I got caught.
Do I really care if I get arrested at this point? Well, maaaaybe.
I could find a bush, or a side yard, or even a trashcan… darn these endless manicured lawns!!
I wish I was a man; it’d be so much easier to be discrete about this!
Its dark, I’m wearing black pants, I could just pee and do laundry as soon as I get home. No one would know… but I just bought these shoes yesterday…
That house! There’s an ungardened spot in that yard!! I wouldn’t be wizzing on their lawn! But I’d get arrested…
Dark corner, side yard, Retaining wall to hide from one direction of traffic… There! I’ll make a run for it. Darn lights are on… Oh, wait! The lights are on in the BACK of that house! They’ll never see me in the front yard!
Yipping Dog
GOSH DARN YIPPING DOG!!!! SHUUUUSH! I’m gonna wring your… I’ll get caught.
An alley! PERFECT! It’s not too far! UUUUUGH! Brake lights, someone’s backing their car out.
Shoot, wasted all those extra steps, now I gotta get back on the path toward home.
At this point I had to pee so bad I grabbed my keys from my purse, just to have something to cling to. I was moving slower, my whole body was cramped, and …
Wouldn’t you like to know what happened? Blog me!
Dear Moron,
I noticed that last night, you indulged in a great deal of recreational vandalism. While I admire the perseverance you displayed while trying to break into my car, I have a couple of suggestions to help you be more successful in your career of nonviolent crime:
I believe I am qualified to speak on this subject because I had to call the Auto Club to come and unlock my car FIVE times in the last 6 months. I’ve seen the professionals break into my car enough times that I could rig a tool and break into my car in ONE try, all by my girly self.
Three separate professionals who know all of the effective ways to break into a car have dubbed you a Moron All three of the professionals who examined your handy-work have separately exclaimed “Moron! They didn’t even do it right!”
From the artistic reshaping you have done to the doors of my sedan, it is apparent that you made three separate attempts to get Bessy to uncross her legs. Its also apparent that you study under the criminal masterminds behind the UPN and FOX television networks. In real life, if you are targeting the make of car that I own, a crowbar and screw driver are not the tools of choice.
It appears that you were interested in gaining access to the cabin of my sedan. I’m not sure why you would do this, as the vehicle I own is by no means a Pimp-Mobile. I drive an economy car with low-technology gadgets like a single-disk stock cd player and a cassette deck. It would be much more worth your while to swipe a new, boxed, mid-range CD player from WalMart.
If you had taken the time to look in the window, you would have seen said cassette deck. As a matter of fact, there was nothing else in the car accept a bag of pine cones flocked with artificial snow. If its really that important to you, you can have the stinking bag of pine cones, but it would have been a lot less stressful for you to just walk down to the end of the block and pick some up off of the ground.
There appears to be a direct correlation between your timing, and the start of the retail holiday season. I understand that the sounds of the season are enough to make anyone want to pick up a crowbar. On my lunch break this afternoon; I was forced to endure the sound of Amy Grant screeching Jingle-Bell Rock. Believe me, I was looking for my crowbar too! I couldn't find my crowbar, so I will spend the rest of the season shopping online from my home.
I would advise you to put your crowbar to better use next time. Instead of going after pine cones and cassette players, use the crowbar to poke a hole in the hood of a car. Open the hood and steal a radiator or a carburetor, or an alternator. The aftermarket price on these and other €œators is much higher than the aftermarket price of pine cones flocked with artificial snow. Besides, I have 74,000 miles on my car, its probably time for me to buy a replacement for one of these €œators anyway.
In addition to your Artwork d Crowbar, I want to thank you for the Artwork d Fingerprint that you left on both doors. I'm so glad that I happened to have my car washed the night before you visited: the only prints on my car are yours and mine. Your swirls and loops were beautiful and clear underneath the fingerprinting powder this morning. The cars you've broken into are a dime-a-dozen, I'm sure, but I'm so glad that I have one of your official autographed masterpieces on file at the local police department.
Sincerely,
ekd