Dead hookers & massive meat are my norm

So I'm totally hyper today. In a good way. In a fun, giggly, manic kind of way. I have 5 different email conversations going on with five different people on three different topics. One topic is about finding a coworker a date for the company Christmas party, one in regards to another coworker's shopping/napping habits and the third regarding a third coworker's reportedly "massive meat". Don't ask. No, really.

I think the stress has finally made me snap. No, really.

Take the usual, throw in quickly approaching holidays, add a dash of freaking-out-about-relationship-stuff-like-a-big-girl and you have a recipe for disaster. Or crème brulee. I can never remember which.

I think I'm done Christmas shopping for the kids. Kids for The Paperweight and their grandparents - done. I even got Girlfriend out of the way (I found her another dead hooker). Think I'm about half way done with The Thing. I don't have that 'thing' yet though…you know, that one item you know is just right. I'm clueless there. But I still have stockings to stuff and decorations to do and cards to buy and yada yada yada. I still have lots of time, but you know the drill. Stress, stress, stress.
The relationship stuff is normal stuff, which is why I'm freaking out. I am SO not used to normal. I spent Thanksgiving with the Thing's family (on his father's side, that I hadn't yet met) in Virginia. They, quite frankly, are normal. Everyone was nice and polite. Everyone helped out in the kitchen. No on was glued to the television. No one drank too much, or swore, or felt up their niece or gossiped or walked around in their boxer shorts or belched at the dinner table.
You know that uncomfortable feeling you get when you have lunch with another couple and the other couple start to fight? There is that whole awkward how-do-we-act kind of thing going on…that was me on Thanksgiving. I had absolutely no context in which to place these people. I had no idea what to expect. They were
normal
nice
polite
wonderful

So I sent Thing's aunt a formal thank you note. She emailed me today talking him up. Like I don't already know he's wonderful but it was too friggin cute. And she told me how much they enjoyed meeting me and invited me & the kids down next month.
Maybe I can pull off this normal thing after all...

YRLFSATP jr.

YRLFSATP had her baby, a girl, by scheduled C-section last Tuesday. I'll announce it the way The Thing did to me via email just because it was such a guy announcement that it cracked me up.

6lbs and change... 19 inches? does that sound right? i forget her name already... but she was born around 6:15 and all is well.

Yes, mommy and baby are both good. We stopped by to see them over the holiday. Baby is a knock-out like her mom. Let's pray she's not as loud or crazy.

And yes, I am quite aware how lame I've been about blogging and this post no where near makes up for it. Though I had to come back to reality and work and such yesterday, I think I'm really still on vacation from everything. I'm sure I'll get back in the groove soon though. Besides, Jac hasn't posted in more then 3 weeks, and if she can get away with it...

Talk about being WAY off

Dear Fauve,
Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, November 21:
You're pretty busy and can't imagine any other way of living right now. It's a really good time for multitasking and moving from project to project with great speed. You leave others in the dust!

The most productive thing I've done all day is to walk to the cafe next door and pick up biscotti for Thanksgiving. And now, post again.
I'm leaving work (and I use that term oh so loosely) in an hour and am heading down to Thing's house. The Paperweight has the kids for Thanksgiving so I've been invited to Thing's family dinner. We're then meeting Paperweight half-way to pick up the kids on Friday then returning to Thing's where we'll stay and be pampered until Monday evening. A well deserved rest, I say.

Stay tuned for future posts with exciting topics such as:
YRLFSATP having her baby.
A discussion regarding The Paperweight's karma.
And my meeting Three Hole Punch last Saturday...

Today's post was provided by my 4 extra minutes

I think my brain has been singed. It didn't explode or give out like I feared but it's definitely a rough brown around the edges. Two weeks ago today, The Girl's bus was a couple minutes late picking her up and it set off a chain of events that left me spinning. When an Elementary school bus being late totally wrecks your schedule, you know that you are way too fucking busy for your own (or anyone else's) good.

You see, the bus was late and my schedule can not handle that so I had to rush to work that morning.
And I hit a deer.
Which made me an hour late for work.
So I got home an hour late.
Which means I was an hour behind all evening and got to bed an hour late.
So I slept in a little, making me rushed again on top of feeling exhausted.
Which added to my stress level making me cranky and in more need of sleep.
But I was continuely behind schedule for the rest of the week, which means with each progressive day, I was more tired and more stressed.
Which only got worse when I had to take Friday 'off' to buy the baby.
And my bosses thought it would be a wonderful idea to send me off with an office laptop so I could continue working.
Which I did starting that night and for the next week straight; between 9 to 12 hrs a day on top of the stress of plunking down large sums of money on a new car.
Think Hulk here...Fauve angry, Fauve smash.

Last week, The Paperweight was in a horrible crash in which - to use his own words - "if it weren't for the air bags I'd be dead". A young woman (probably a few minutes late for work) tried to zip across four lanes of traffic, but wasn't as fast as she thought she was and was broadsided by The Paperweight. The girl is alive. And the police report does state she was at fault. But both lives were in mortal danger and both cars are completely totaled. Apparently, she literally pulled right out in front of him. Though everyone says that it's rarely the case. However, there weren't any skid marks at the scene as The Paperweight never had a chance to touch his breaks and hit her full force at an estimated 60 mph.

I figured out at the end of last week that the clock in my new car is 4 minutes slow. I was going to look in the owner's manual to figure out how to change it but then thought better of it. The way I figure it, I could use an extra 4 minutes added to my day.

Okay you inpatient mother fuckers

You can just feel the love, can't ya? Just wait until my next post describing how horribly busy I've been and then won't you feel sorry...
Yeah, probably not. But anyway...

So where did we leave off? Oh yes, we ran right smack into Fred & Wilma.

Which, technically, is a lie. I ran right smack in to the back of Fred, whom I frantically casually walked past pretending not to notice. Because I knew it was kind of like spotting a mouse in your house, you know there is never just one. I was completely unprepared, The Thing was with me, how would they react in front of my beloved and where the hell had The Boy wandered off to so I could find him and get out of this store before Wilma smelled blood in the water.
Alas, a 16 year old boy is never easy to find in a mall and The Girl was spotted before I could track him down. As Wilma approached, I started to hyperventilate and felt my grip tighten on Thing's hand; tight enough that he gave a little ouch and a 'what the?!' and then Satan herself stood before us.
And then The Boy appears. See what happens when you don't beat your children? They have no respect for your feelings at all.
The kids (thankfully) distracted Wilma with chatter and then Fred wandered over adding to the chaos. This allowed me enough time to try to catch my breath, try to think of something to say, and for Thing to catch the look of sheer terror in my eyes and clue in as to who these people were.

'Thing, this is Wilma and Fred. Wilma & Fred, this is Thing.'

Hand shaking ensued.

Nervous inane small talk ensued. We're Christmas shopping. I found yada yada for yada yada. Did you see blah blah blah?
Thing, who will suffer miserably at some point in the near future, yet far enough in to the future as to let his guard down, says 'So, I hear we will be joining you for Christmas dinner this year?'
Traitor.
Yes, Christmas. Blah blah yada fucking blah. More small talk, lots of nervous smiles, me pretty much standing there numb and dumbfounded.
This is one of Thing's many strong points. He could charm the fucking pants off a nun.

Fred & The Boy wandered off to look at something, probably sports related.
The Girl decided there was something she had to show Thing immediately, probably something pink.
This, of course, left me alone with Wilma.
The woman who hasn't seen or spoken to me in 15 months.
My mother.

That first moment, after more then a year. What would you say? How would you act? Ask how they have been? What are they have been doing? Dare I say, apologize?
Wilma chose, "Wow, he's cute."

Yep, my mother.

::waves to former coworker and new reader Franks&Beans::

My new baby

2008 Toyota Yaris. This is the exact one I just brought home from the dealership about 3 hours ago. The first brand spanking new car I've ever owned. She only had 4 miles on her. I'll hug her and kiss her and call her George.

Wanna know the really cool thing? Yeah, something cooler then owning a purty new car...who would have thought? Well, there is. It's finding out that the last 8 years of working your ass off to fix the credit your evil ex-husband spent a life time destroying; that you spent especially the last two years really scrimping and saving and doing everything to honor the FICO gods has finally finally fucking paid off....

If there is a bigger high then going through all that and then having a car salesman tell you that your credit score is only 45 points lower then "Perfect" and they are just going to throw money at you for any new car you want...well, there isn't a bigger high then that so just forget it.

Need a moment of silence

My beloved car, only the second car I've ever owned in my life and have driven for the last 10 years, is going to be put to rest this weekend.
I bought her pre-owned in 1997 with only 12,000 miles on her and then added another 230,000 of my own. In that time, she threw two freeze plugs, needed two front end alignments, two new windshields (rocks hate me), a couple sets of brakes (and new shoes & drums when it locked up this summer), enough new tires to feel guilty about the landfills, required an oil change every 6 weeks, and was on her third battery but that was it. She wasn't pretty and had her share of dents and a little rust, but with the exception of the 54 cent freeze plugs, it was all pretty standard maintenance stuff. Not many cars can perform that well with half as many miles. ::sigh::

But this Tuesday, on my way to work, I hit a deer. My first deer which considering I live in ButtFuckEgypt is quite surprising. It wasn't bad and I'm okay. I almost missed him completely but took out his hind legs, while he took out most of my passenger side. It's 'driveable' but only temporarily and I can't justify dropping a couple thousand dollars on a car with that many miles.

So I'm heading out tomorrow to pick up a spiffy new car.
And I think it sucks.

And speaking of things that suck, you guys have no patience, do you? Try to add a little excitement...

Only slightly nerdy

Courtesy of loislane

So before we got all distracted by my hair

So before we got all distracted by my hair (which I haven't been 100% convinced either way, so I'll have to dye again just out of sheer habit until I do decide) I had slipped in that little nugget of info about The Thing & I going to see Fred & Wilma this Christmas.
Side note to the commenter who suggested the hotel; first, I'd rather chew off my own leg and eat that for Christmas dinner then spend more then a couple of hours with my parents so you can imagine the chances of an overnight stay. Second, they live less then 15 minutes from my house.

So anyway...

The Thing wants to meet my parents.
I've tried to explain to him for the last year that it really isn't necessary and if he'd like a brush with pure evil couldn't we just go to Vegas or something. But no, he says he loves me and thereby wants to meet the people responsible for having unprotected sex and thus thrusting me in to existence. As if that had anything to do with anything...
Besides, I don't think he believes me.
Don't get me wrong, he doesn't think I'm lying, per se. He thinks I'm exaggerating. Which is actually the same thing, when you get right down to it, but Thing is really good in bed so I'm going to let that slide.

So when I received an emailed Christmas dinner invitation (something Wilma did last Christmas as well because that's when my out-of-state siblings come home. she can't appear the good guy if she doesn't invite me when witnesses will be there. The fact that we live a few miles apart and she never sees or speaks to me, I guess we aren't supposed to notice) The Thing suggested we accept so that he could finally meet them.
Which was/is a total blackmailing trick on his part. I didn't get my Thing for Christmas last year, which you may remember upset me a great deal so there's the tradeoff...he's offering to give up his family at Christmas this year to spend it with mine unawares that mine are truly evil. ::sigh:: Only for him would I do this. Because he asked. I'll regret it and he will as well, but I'll do it because I love him. Plus, it will prove my point.

You see, the thing with The Thing is, he's had a very nice life, with very nice parents, in a very nice neighborhood, going to very nice schools with very nice people. True, not everything was perfect - I mean, his parents don't even have a white picket fence for Pete's Sake! - but he had it pretty damn easy.
And by 'easy' I mean, his father isn't an illiterate bigot who refuses to medicate his Bi-Polar disorder and his mother isn't evil.

Courtesy of Dictionary.com
adj.
Morally bad or wrong; wicked:
Causing ruin, injury, or pain; harmful:
Characterized by or indicating future misfortune; ominous:
Characterized by anger or spite; malicious:

n.
The quality of being morally bad or wrong; wickedness.
That which causes harm, misfortune, or destruction:
Something that is a cause or source of suffering, injury, or destruction:

Take your pick. You just met Wilma.

While Thing's mom (as well as every other mom in the universe) has some annoying habits, he has no concept that some moms aren't capable of loving their children. I could tell you stories that would make you cry, make you pissed, or make your jaw drop but I really don't have to...because I already kind of have. You see, most girls grow up to marry their Dad. I married my Mom.

And here is where I originally intended on ending this post; three weeks before Thanksgiving and I had already begun to dread Christmas. But Thing was up this weekend so I got a well deserved rest and mucho snuggles. Though a little chilly, the sun was out all weekend, it was beautiful and we took the kids out & about a lot. Yesterday, I had my first Red Robin hamburger (while very tasty, if I ever spend $9 on a cheeseburger again, please shove a fork in my head) and got a lot of ideas for Christmas presents from the various stores we wandered through. We ended up in Borders of course, because we all read like it's going out of style, and discovered I could cancel Christmas dinner.

Because we ran right smack in to Fred & Wilma.

Poll

If you were a 30-something professional woman who started going gray at the age of 19, and then spent the next 13 years dying your hair every different color imaginable, who found that the last time you went 'natural' (when you were pregnant) that your hair was now 80% gray and are now considering the fact that since this was more then 5 years ago you are probably now 100% gray…..

Would you just say fuck it and let yourself go gray?
Especially after you saw how fab these women look?

And if you did decide to go for the gray, how would you go about it? I mean, just quit dyeing and let it grow out? Or is there a better (faster) way to go about removing color from hair so as it's not a year-long-two-tone-hair-color process?