inappropriate language

This is an exact quote from one of Natalie's teacher today:

"Don't worry we have someone coming in to sand those bitches."

Now if you assume that my child doesn't go to some hippie progressive school or some hard core disciplinary boot camp you might be thinking about what prompted this little outburst.

Never fear because I'm going to tell you. And really you shouldn't be surprised because why would I have written a post just to tell you about a teachers potty mouth? That's boring!!!

Sorry back on topic.

When I got home from work today I was just heading into the backyard to help Triple S with our ongoing double pergola project (I'll talk about this another day but sometimes my husband rivals Norm Abram with a hammer.) when the phone rang.

It was the school and they wanted to let me know that Natalie had a splinter in an area of her body that she would not show to the nurse.

So instead of being Triple S' walking tool belt I headed over to the school. When I got there the peanut was standing patiently in the office. The staff smiled at me as I pulled her into the nurse's bathroom and closed the door.

She pulled down her pants to show me her tiny butt cheek.

I'm pretty sure I hid my surprise well as she didn't freak out until I told her I had to take the splinter out. Then she was all about the tears and the NO's.

Although it isn't fair to call something that can be used to hold a sandwich together a splinter. The darn thing was as big as a tooth pick.

This is our souvenir card. Quarter provided for scale.

It was stuck almost all the way under her skin. The poor thing. The office ladies had asked her to sit but she had politely declined and it was suddenly very clear why. Who would want to sit with a wooden spike in their cheek?

What about sanding the bitches?

Oh right. The teacher that was with Natalie when she slid across the wooden bench and impaled herself wanted to let me know the problem was going to be fixed to ensure that no other tiny bottoms were injured. 

She meant benches. Not bitches but her slip made my day so she is forgiven. Plus she was just worried about my peanut so who can blame her for a little righteous anger against an inanimate objects?

Ninja Resume

If you aren't already concerned for me you might want to rethink your stance.

I just spent the last hour getting out of a choke hold and a head lock.

Then I closed my eyes and waited to be attacked.

-Did you call the police?

No.

-Why the hell not?

Because I paid for that.

-You might want to reread 50 Shades of Grey. You are confused about "rough play".

What? No! I paid because I just got out of Krav Maga class.

What is Krav Maga you say? 

AWESOMESAUSE that's what.

This is called a "facehug" I think. I haven't learned it yet.

Okay so maybe fighting some guy isn't your idea of a great Tuesday night but I think I have mentioned before that I'm not normal.

Since we moved to the South I feel like I am only adding to my Ninja Resume and not my real one. (That is a real thing. You don't know about it because the first rule of a Ninja Resume is.... Well you know.)

That's cool though because since I can't grow anything or operate on anyone I am going to need some marketable skills when civilization collapses and I guess protection is as good a racket as any other.

Remember the Bear? I guess I'm already building up a loyal customer base.

So if you need to go somewhere and pick up cabinets you bought from a guy on craigslist let me know. I'll go with you just in case.




On a serious note. Krav Maga is excellent for anyone looking for some self defense. Especially you ladies. It doesn't hurt to know how to defend yourself.

#TBT (it's an internet thing)

In a follow up from my post about my wonderful husband and our anniversary here is a photo of me from our honeymoon in Sedona, AZ.

please note what's in my hands.

We went there because although I would be perfectly happy to bake on a beach somewhere Triple S is a bit less fond of the sun. (It's possible he would burst into flames, we've never tested that hypothesis.)

Compromise. A very auspicious beginning. (I love big words. Nerd Power!!)

digital camera circa 1997

This is the camera I brought with me. Pretty BA right? I thought that thing was the bees knees. Just like I thought my first discman was. I even got the car kit for it so I could play CD's in my 1987 Ford Tempo.

(My first CD was Eric Clapton Unplugged)

Yeah, that's right.

I'd like to say I continued that awesomeness with all my music purchases but that would be a lie.

And a story for another day.

*hint I got a check from BMG when Mili Vinili were proven to be frauds. (It was for $1.27)

14 years!!!

So today is my 14th anniversary with Triple S and if he were home I would kiss him.

He isn't. (I'll wait for you to pick yourself up off the floor. It's not like he's missed anything before right?) 

The last time he was home we were home improvement fiends! Working hard to get our shiny new house where we want it to be.

This of course includes all kinds of little things. The house was new after all, but since we aren't Rockefellers we didn't pay the builder to do everything for us. Think no cabinets knobs or garage door openers. (I think the mark up on them was like %400!)

 So we search the Internet for deals.  (When I say we what I mean is Triple S)


Fast forward to used cabinets on Craigslist for a steal that Triple S wanted to put in the laundry room. (I argued they were too nice as the idea of a fancy laundry room is disturbing to me. "oh let me just go in this pretty laundry room and relax." said no one ever!)

This is Triple S's FB post. Proof that we are perfect for each other.

But we got them and no one was killed. Heck no one was even threatened.  Now Triple S is back on the boat and sending me more Craiglist cabinets.

To pick up ALONE.

Obviously I can take care of myself but.....

Wait, do you think this is his convoluted way of hiring someone to murder me?

If so I take back what I said about him being perfect and I would write a letter to the police about "in the event of my untimely demise." But I'm pretty sure they always assume it's the husband anyway so good luck!

Although it is possible that he is just being a good husband and trying to make our home nicer. If that's the case never mind the part where I accused you of wanting to murder me pumpkin. I love you too.

Happy 14th!!

Gosh we were cute.

Pinterest is an Enabler

Yesterday a good friend of mine posted about how pinterest (Micheal's and hobby lobby) all make her feel inadequate. There was a pile on of support. Ladies who all feel like they should be craftier than they are but somehow fall short of Martha Stewart.

There are dozens of blogs devoted to Pinterest Fails. (You are not alone.)

By the way this is an awesome website to remind you that just because someone says it's "super easy" that the Internet is full of liars. It's a miracle anyone bothers to wear pants anymore.

Right now there are no less that 6 projects in my house that I found online and bought the supplies for.

Side note: I just scoured the Internet for images and almost started a shopping list. Will I never learn?

To be fair to myself and to make sure I don't feel like a total failure I have done some crafty things that worked out. I'm a big fan of the oil sharpies.

Wine glasses with inspirational quotes on them

Those things get well and truly used in this house.

Sadly I would have to call my record a losing one.

I tried this ombre dip dye with my shower curtain. First the color was nothing like the color on the box. Second it was blotchy and third it was possibly the ugliest thing ever. Said shower curtain is currently being used as a throw for when we are forced to sit on the ground at sporting events.

I bought the yarn and the glue for this project but have yet to attempt it. I just know it's going to be messy and sticky and dear god why did I think this was a good idea?

I bought a large mirror at a yard sale with this in mind. Right now it is sitting in my garage. It has been half covered with paper scraps and glue and I hate it. To be fair the paper I picked doesn't match anything in my house. Sometimes I get sucked in by pictures of much cooler houses and forget that I still have two kids and a dog and that a white couch is never going to happen.

This one seems easy enough right? How hard is it to cut a t shirt and tie some knots? Harder than you think if the three shirts I attempted to do this to are any indication.

So stay strong fellow crafting failures. You are in good company.

Frankenchicken

No doubt you have seen this "story" on Facebook, Twitter, Foursquare, instagram, weekly world news or some equally trusted news source.

Before I start my rant I just want to see if I got this straight.

You think you found the link that proves KFC has mutant chickens on a farm somewhere?

Where is this farm? Indiana? Montana? (Seriously I have no idea where we raise chickens?)

How come PETA isn't freaking out?

You remember PETA? They want us to treat mice as equals to humans. They have that catchy slogan "meat is murder". I guess the lesser know part of that is "except for genetically modified meat."

Alec Baldwin can't eat a bagel without someone taking a picture but no one is paying attention to a farm where featherless chickens with extra legs frolic in beautiful green fields? (I have lawn envy.)

No way this is Photoshopped.

By the way KFC changed their name in 2005. Almost ten years ago. A decade of mutant chickens and no one noticed.

In the last few years people have been losing their minds over Monsanto and modified corn (GMO) but apparently no one cared about the chickens.

Poor chickens.

What do you feed a headless chicken?

I for one almost wish it was true because it would bring us one step closer to real mutants. I'm hoping for some really cool powers like mind control or invisibility. Nothing stupid like being able to talk to fish or control the weather.


PS: Here is the internet's rebuttal. SNOPES. Always good to debunk your online ridiculousness.

PPS: This is why we keep getting emails from Nigerian Princes. If you are going to believe this stuff certainly you will also believe he just needs someone to help him get his money.

Hairstory: living on the scissors edge.

So back when I was about 12 I got a really short hair cut. A pixie some would call it. It wasn't something I wanted or thought was a good idea but I tried to convince myself it would work out.

Right about this time there was a commercial for Doublemint gum that featured two reasonably attractive women with short hair.

I could be just like them.

Look how carefree they are in their matching tennis sweaters. For some reason I remember them having a tandem bike and yes I know that isn't helping my case.

Stop judging me. It was the 80's dammit!

In the end though I really didn't have a choice, you see a few months before I had been talked into a perm. Oh yeah! The kind where you sit at the salon for hours with that horrible stinky stuff on your head.  I was never crazy about that idea either but remember it was the 80's.

Needless to say it turned out awesome (sadly I don't have any pictures so you'll just have to take my word for it.). The problems started not long after because I was on a swim team spending way too much time in over chlorinated pools.

By the end of the season my hair was so fried it was breaking off in my hands. Drastic measures were necessary. So I convinced myself that I could pull off short hair.

So off it came. Along with it went any chance of me outgrowing my awkward tom boy appearance until it grew back. That was fine though. I survived and vowed I would never cut my hair short again!

never mind the hair what is up with those eyebrows?

I'm no Audrey Hepburn that is for sure.

Who cares about your hairstory (that's like history and hair mashed together)?

Good new word! Chill I'm getting to the point.

If you've been reading this blog, and obviously you have because you are here right now, right? You know I did it again. A little over a year ago I walked into a salon and cut it all off! Not sure why I decided too. Guess I was getting bored and changing the color every other month was wearing thin.

Whatever the reason I cut it off and was pleasantly surprised. I actually like it short.

Wait. What was my point again when I started this?

Oh yeah. It was crazy hair day at preschool this week and for the second year in a row I sported a Mohawk! Yeah that's right. I spiked that stuff right up.

This is this year's fabulous look. Admittedly it is more Elvis than Mohawk. But I still look BA.

Thank you, thank you very much!

Last Year it was the perfect FauxHawk.  It was red too although you can't tell that from the picture. Also I went out to eat with all the ladies from the school looking like this since they just switched their pigtails to pony tails I was the only one who looked like a lunatic. BEST PART was the people who saw me who didn't acknowledge my hair.




I'm not sure if I should be insulted or pleased that this is a look people think I might try? HMMMMM




So yeah. This is the kind of stuff I do now. I'm not sure if 12 year old me would think it was awesome or not but one thing is certain. If I find a green sweater vest I'm going to rock it!

 So far I've only been able to find a child's size but I'm not giving up!







PS Another advantage of short hair is horns in the shower. Yup. I use my shampoo to turn myself into a magical unicorn. Because I'm awesome. Try not to be jealous.

PPS this totally counts as a Throw Back Thursday entry since I included I picture of young and impressionable me.