Excuse Me While I Kick My Own Ass

As if.

One week since I've posted.

I'm completely disgusted.

I imagine Rock Chef may quit talking to me soon.

Anyways, I was going to list a bunch of crap about why I was so busy - stuff like office drama, watching E, running, neglecting Ramona, doing laundry, cleaning and all that other stuff - but I realized that my life is always like that. And so is everyone elses. So no point whining about it because we're all in the same boat.

Instead I decided to give you a little photo montage, because I know you all really want to see that...okay, I know you probably don't...especially because the pictures aren't anywhere near cool, but this is the mood I was in today, so ha!

Last night I bought some new mascara. It promised not only amazingly long-looking lashes, but a sparkle to boot! I couldn't resist the idea of having sparkly lashes, so I bought it and decided to try it out this morning.

So here we go:

I always have a good time blow-drying my hair.
I'm weird, what can I say.

Straighten, straighten, straighten - story of my life.

So check this out - do you see any super sparkly, glimmery, fantastical magic-ness coming from my eyelashes?
Yeah, me neither.

And then I was like, "Ali did you really think your eyelashes were going to be sparkly and gorgeous if you bought this mascara?"

The answer was no, I didn't. But I thought for that kind of packaging I would at least see maybe a hint of a glimmer.

Ah, no matter. They did their job and got me to buy the stupid stuff.

Happy Tuesday!

Middle of the Night Conversation

*Just as a pre-cursor, the husband finally went to the doctor about his snoring, and has been diagnosed with severe sleep apnea. So now you guys all know I wasn't exaggerating when I was always complaining about his snoring.
Anyways, he now has a machine that helps him breathe at night, which has a water reservoir that needs to be filled, and comes complete with a Darth Vader-esque face mask he has to wear.

About 2am, I roll over and notice that he's sitting up on the side of the bed.

Ali: Chris? Are you okay?
Husband: Yeah…
What are you doing?
I’m just…nothing.
Do you feel okay?
Yeah.
Okaaaaay.
I lay back down but keep staring at his back curiously.
I just need to get some water for my machine.
What? Didn’t you just fill it up tonight?
Nope.
Oh, okay then.
I know I saw him filling it up earlier in the evening – I’m beginning to realize that something is up, or else he’s still sleeping.
So are you going to go fill it?
Nope.
He reaches over and picks up the Darth Vader part of the mask, and puts it on the very edge of his pillow, then lays down beside me.
I keep watching him because I know there’s something going on.
Okay, I’m going back to sleep then, kay?
Okay.
A few moments pass and I start to drift off again.
I thought there was a spider on it.
What?!!?
All I heard was spider so I immediately started to panic.
On my mask. I dreamed there was a spider on it.
I start laughing softly.
So that’s why you took it off? You didn’t need water, did you?
Nope. But I was embarrassed to tell you…
Laughing.
Oh Chris, it’s fine, you were dreaming. I think you’re still asleep.
Yeah, okay.

About an hour later I turned over again and he was finally putting it back on. Guess he decided the spider was gone.

Sexy Hair? I Wish...

I don't know about any other women, but I'm always wishing I had sexier hair.

You know the kind I'm talking about - that tousled, soft, touch me, voluminous head of locks that has men and women alike stopping in their tracks going "Oooooooh!"

The kind where I should be walking in slow motion with a sultry grin on my face, my hair gleaming and bouncing in the sunshine.

The kind where photographers are following me around, shooting frame after frame of me as I twist and turn, always with this knowing smile on my face that says "I've got great hair, you know you want it..."

Yeah, that's the kind of hair I want.

Yesterday the husband and I talked about this. I was telling him how after I shower every morning I twist my hair up into a towel while I put on some makeup and brush my teeth. Then just before I leave the bathroom, I untwist the towel and shake my hair down my back. And you know what? It looks hot. Every freaking time.

I'm always thinking "Damn my hair looks hot! I'm just going to leave it like this today!"

Sadly, that never goes according to plan. In fact, within 20 minutes of exiting the bathroom feeling like a true sexpot, you can be sure I look anything but sexy. It seems that the moment my hair is kissed by outside air (and that's just outside the bathroom, not even outside the house) it turns into a frizzy, fluffy, deflated, ridiculous mess.

Suddenly there are these horns of hair sticking out at odd angles. Suddenly the natural curl seems to fall from my tendrils. Suddenly it looks like someone backcombed just the top of my head. Suddenly? Sexy hair does not inhabit my home.

I've tried products, tried leaving it alone, tried curling it, straightening it, perming it (when perms were cool), and sadly I've just come to the realization that I'll never have that perfect, sexy hair.

And the funny thing about it? The really ridiculous part? The days I get the most compliments on my hair are the days when I don't even brush it. Go figure.

Quickly, Quickly

Hi lovies!

Life is a bit hectic at the moment, hence the no-post-since-Friday issue.

Husband is out of town for the week, gone on a fishing trip with my dad. My daycare chick is on holidays too, so my mom is staying with me for the week to watch Ellery.

Work is busy, which I love, so no complaints there.

It's weird, most of the time it's like I'm a single parent anyways, due to the husband's crazy work schedule. Days that he works he leaves just as I'm getting home from a run, then gets back after Ellery is in bed for the night. Nights that he works he leaves an hour after I get home at night, then gets home just after I leave in the mornings.

Him being out of town though? Seems infinitely worse! I don't really know how, because it's not that I see him any less than usual, but perhaps it's the mental realization that he's not here? I dunno, but it's odd.

So yeah, life is busy and I'm literally running like a mad-woman from 5:30am till I finally crash somewhere around 11pm.

Hope you all are doing wonderful, and I hope to sit down for a decent post soon!

Vehicle Related Irks

There are a few things in the world that really bother me – and today I'd like to share the ones of a vehicular variety - yay fun!

When people drive with their dog on their lap.
Never, ever, in any situation is this an acceptable thing to do. They’re in your line of sight, they’re standing in front of the wheel, they’re hanging out the window, they’re moving around. Honestly, what kind of douche actually thinks this is okay?
Taking your pet for a little ride in your vehicle is one thing, if they’re on the other side of the car, or even in a carrier, fine. But crawling over you while you’re in control of a ton of metal moving at high speeds? Hells no.
First off, your pet could get hurt. Second, you could get hurt. Third, if you’ve got someone else in your car, do you really want Fluffy to be the reason your passenger is decapitated after a car accident? Loose objects in a vehicle become dangerous in an accident.

People that don’t buckle their kids in.
If you can’t take the time to buckle your kid in properly whether you’re going a block away or across the country, you don’t deserve children. I pray you never have to live through losing a child because of something so ridiculous.

People that insist on showing off the power or speed of their vehicle by driving like a moron.
We get it, you have a nice car. It’s shiny, fast, powerful – and you probably paid half a year’s wages too much for it. Oh, and psst! Everyone knows when you’ve gotten a particular car to compensate for something else, it’s not a secret.
So why, when it’s raining, do you have to speed and fishtail down the busiest street in the city? Why do you have to roar past everyone when there is black ice on the road? In the summer, why do you have to pull up next to people at a red light and rev your engine like you want to race? Newsflash: No one cares about your car but you. And in fact, if people have an opinion at all, it’s probably “Holy mama, that’s a hot truck/car/suv/scooter, but what a jackass behind the wheel!”

Cranky post, but honestly, I'm in a great mood! Happy weekend!

I Miss the Bestie

I'm pretty sure by now, anyone that comes around here with any sort of regularity will know who the Bahama Mama is. For anyone that actually doesn't, she's my best friend of 29 years who moved to Nassau, Bahamas in 2001, and who I love more than I could ever say - though I would never tell her that because she's totally not a "share your feelings" kind of person.

I'm actually on the phone with her right now. And I'm cry/laughing, because she just told me about how she dropped off a friend at the airport the other day super early in the morning, then when she went to leave she found out the parking lot attendant wasn't in yet. So instead of just sitting in her car at the gate, she decided to reverse and drive back to the airport to grab a coffee and wait - but when she backed up, she forgot about the row of spikes behind her that was made to stop people driving into the lot the wrong way, thus avoiding having to pay. She also forgot about the sign warning her about those spikes, that said reversing into them would cause damage to her car. So she backed up. Then heard a bang. Then realized what she had done, didn't know what else to do, and sat there and laughed. When she finally got out to check the damage, she realized she had ripped a chunk off the side of her car, and that it was hanging by a thin strip of metal. So once the lot opened, she drove home, dragging the chunk of car as she went.

This is the kind of stupid ass, hilarious crap of a situation that we used to get into on a regular basis. Had she done that while I was with her, I would have screamed at the bang, sat there in disbelief with her, got out of the car with her, laughed so hard at the car that I had to squat to keep myself from peeing my pants, then been her lookout on the drive home, ensuring we never lost the dragging piece of car.
I've figured out that in the past 8 years, I've seen her 20 times, which is so not enough.

I miss her and our shenanigans.

Dear Body,

I think it's about time that you stop being a jackass.

I know you're trying your best to make me give up this new healthy attitude I've decided to take on, but I'm telling you right now, you may as well just throw in the towel.

Going for a run nearly every morning is now a part of our existence. Flossing our teeth every night is just something that's going to happen. Eating three meals a day - and sometimes snacks - is a good thing. These things make us better! We look better, we feel better, we actually eat...I'm having a hard time understanding why you're fighting this so much.

If it's because in the past, we've been lazy, and sometimes gone entire days without eating, I can almost understand it. Having no sustenance would make even the most energetic person feel like a lump.

I do have to give lungs some kudos though. You guys don't scream at me anymore while we're running. You seem almost happy to be out there, working hard and passing out the extra oxygen like it's got an expiry date.

I think in general, it's stomach and legs that are giving me the most grief. Stomach, you seem to balk at the amount of food I've been putting into you, but I'm trying to convince you that I won't starve you any more. This surplus of food will stop you from panicking and trying to eat yourself - a faster metabolism will make us both happier!

And legs...*sigh*...oh legs, what am I going to do with you? I understand that all this exercise might be foreign to you, as in past years we've been lazy, but you really must come around. I've dealt with the pain in knees, and now they don't ache anymore after a run. Calves actually seem to be quite thrilled with all of the movement, and are taut and happy. But now, shins are giving me a great deal of grief - to the tune of feeling like I got line-drived by a fastball in each leg.

The fact that I'm almost limping when I get home every morning now is NOT okay.

I don't know how much longer I will tolerate your insubordination. I'm almost to the point now where if I could trade you in for a new set, I would.

Don't you want to be hot? Don't you want to hear people say "Wow! She's got a great set of gams!" I for one, do. So pain or not, we're going to workout. Eventually you'll learn to love it.

Either that, or I'll hack you off.