Join Me in Snarkville

Apparently, I don’t have to go to the fancy thing this evening.  It seems that my husband just called after reviewing the seating chart and says that he is attending with his wife, “Karen.”  (So, NOT my name.)  Yes, it seems that the people who plan formal events to be Wednesday’s (because that makes no sense whatsoever) have also decided that my husband is married to Karen.

I say, GOOD.  What we need around here is another wife — preferably someone who will do laundry, cook dinner, and vacuum. So, what I really want to know is — how long has he been married to Karen (like as in, am I the first wife or not?) and when will she start doing her share of work around here?

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Seriously, when have I ever gone this long without blogging?  Ok, there were all those times I was away on vacation, but seriously…I just posted something and then a week plus whirls past me. Frankly, it is a sad state when the husband updates more often than I.

See the problem is that I’ve been so busy lately that stopping to find something in my day that is bloggable and funny is hard.  Like work almost.  The other problem is that when I do have something happen that is bloggable and funny, I forget it — because let’s face it, my brain can only hold so much and is currently full of useless crap.

So, here’s the random stuff I can remember that I’ve been meaning to tell you:

1. My elbows hurt.  Yes, I realize that I’m old and getting older, but when did it become ok for my elbows hurting to wake me up at night?  yes it is both of them.  Yes it is the elbows themselves and not the joint — no seriously the BALLs of the elbows — the part you use to elbow your friend when you see something truly horrible on the street and you MUST point it out so you both may laugh.  Yes, the bone dangit.  And no, I have no idea why my elbows hurt.
2. Yesterday, I packed 122 goody bags full of cool and fabulous stuff.  And by we, I totally mean Prince and I packed them.  The best part was at 8am when he was all hopeful looking holding the first bag in his hand saying, “I’m ready” and I was all “Honey, I don’t have all the boxes laid out yet, wanna help me?”  Then he opened and moved a box and then picked up the bag again “I’m ready”  “Um, darling, this is going to be a bit.”  Him: “I’m really hoping this won’t take all day.” Me: “You keep hoping that ok — by myself it took me two days to do 75 of these last year.” Him: “But I’m here to help you this year.” Start time: 8am.  End Time: 3pm.  By definition this is ALL DAY!
3. Duke wants me to knit him a pair of socks.  Yes, his feet are small and I could knit him up a pair in little time — but I flatly refuse until he begins to put his own socks on his own feet for me.  Oh, yes — he’s perfectly capable and I’ve seen him do it — but given the choice of doing it himself or having Mama touch his stinky boy feet….oh, my…do I have to go there?  So the quandary is, do I knit the socks and tell him he can’t have them until he puts his socks on his own feet; do I knit the socks and tell him I will never put these socks on his feet, if he wants to wear them, he has to do it (and does this then commit me to a lifetime of knitting him socks because I won’t have to put them on him later — and where do I apply for a knitting daughter in law now?), or do I hold firm that I will not begin socks until he puts his current socks on his own feet?  It’s hard being the mommy.
4. I have a formal affair to go to tomorrow night.  Yes, because Wednesdays are formal night, why do you ask? No, I have no idea what I’m going to wear.  Yes, I have at least 5 to 7 different formal outfits ranging from very formal (think ball gown) to mildly formal (think garden party wedding).  But that’s not my biggest problem — my hair is my biggest problem.  I sort of need a haircut.  I have been putting it off because I need to decide if I’m going to keep coloring my hair.  The thing is, I don’t think I want to — but I am not sure I’m ready to be this gray.  The other problem is that if I decide to not color my hair, I have to deal with the grow out period and that isn’t all that pretty.  Add to that a whole formal event and cruise coming up and I have no idea what to do.  So, I’m asking for advice — dye or not dye? If dye, what color? And finally, what style?  Photos would be helpful.

So, since this is apparently advice day in Snarkville, I open the doors to you all, my gentle readers.  Advice me.

You have to know that we are not a sports household here.  Oh, yes, we love a good baseball season — though Prince and I have fundamental differences in what team* to cheer for.  We prefer to go to a ballpark to watch a game than watch on TV.  We never seem to have any sort of game on TV.  So, you can imagine Prince’s shock that I watched the final two games of the NCAA tournament on TV this week.  Oh, yes, but I had a reason… (more…)

When I was young, I dreamed of singing on the Broadway stage.  Yes, you read that right.  I have a deep, burning desire to perform (always have) and I thought the ultimate performance feat would be to sing on Broadway.  There’s a few problems with my deepest desire:

1. I can not sing.  Nope, not even a little bit.
2. I dislike starving, waiting tables, being poor, or anything else that goes with paying your dues to make it in show business.
3. I can not carry a tune in a bucket.

So my amazing Broadway career was over before it could even begin.  But you see, despite the fact that my voice will never ring out from a stage anywhere (and frankly, you are all better for it), I do like to sing. (more…)

Ok, so after the snack issues I had the night before leaving for Las Vegas, I promptly was sucked into the vortex of the underbelly of the gambling lifestyle for a few days.  When I finally came up for air, it was time to pack up and go home.  Thus, you get the highlights of the trip to Las Vegas. (more…)