Who comes up with this shit?

There is something in my office whose slogan is:
"The finest swallow in town!"
Can you guess what it is??


You've been home longer than usual Mom!

I hate when I hit the snooze button in the morning...and actually end up turning off my clock. That could explain my being an hour and a half late to work this morning. Thank goodness my boss loves me. This, however, is what I woke up to. Made my day!


It's been a while. If you aren't used to it by now, I don't think you really know me at all!

Big news: I'm pregnant. Very happily pregnant! Super excited! It's a boy. A boy we have nicknamed Jimmy John at this point. We have actually picked a name...but we were going to try to keep it secret until he was born. That, and, I don't like it and plan on fighting it when JR returns from deployment. Oh yeah, he's deployed and due back about 3 weeks before we are due. Thanks W! Here's his ship...if you squint and have Xray vision...you can spot him in his scivvies playing XBox and eating obscene amounts of Slim Jims.

I have no intention of turning this blog into Baby Alert 2007. I will comment and tell funny stories now and then...but no "post after boring post" about the trials and tribulations of procreating. On a funny note, however, thanks to all my shithead girls out there who gave me no warnings about sneezing and wetting ones pants. This shout out is for you....beeotches! Maybe that's what happened to Fergie?

Other than being pregnant, and loving every minute of it, not too much else going on. One of my co-workers was fired for sexual harassment...

I had some stranger run through my backyard at sunset...

And, found out that Vermont is trying to secede from the US.

Pretty uneventful if you ask me. More to come later....happy to be back!!


Don't Say Mole...I Said Mole!

Moles. Who really wants to discuss them? Look at them? Unlike Cindy Crawford, not everyones are as fashionable and iconic. I've had a mole, for as long as I can remember, on my upper lip. It's small and doesn't really stand out. I have never really contemplated waxing my lip because I have blond hair and am afraid of pain. However, yesterday I was in my car on the way to a meeting and I felt something odd on my upper lip. A course, long hair. When I got to my meeting place, I pulled down my visor mirror and couldn't believe what I was seeing. A lone, rogue black hair.

When the hell did that appear? It had to have been overnight since I know I would have noticed something like that. I was at a loss. Only 90 year old women develop such an unsightly growth. And this one was taunting me. As I breathed out of my nose, I could feel it move. When I was talking on the phone, I could feel it flopping around. Every time I looked down to check my speed, the hair would turn and stare back at me as if it was pondering its' sudden existence on my face.

As you know, I carry an emergency kit in my car for the events that I plan (see "Fat Gods" post). I couldn't find the tweezers, however, I did find a small pair of scissors and thought I would be able to fix it all before running in to talk to my professional peers. I grabbed the scissors, got back in my car and just as I was getting ready to lift them to my lip...

Knock. Knock. Knock. Wrapping on my drivers side window. I looked up and noticed one of my fellow professionals standing next to my car. I didn't want to call attention to my lip...so I opened the door and pretended that I had a string on my sweater that I was trying to get rid of. Problem, I couldn't find a string...so I actually pulled a small piece of my sweater and cut it...producing a small hole that will inevitably develop into a larger hole, most likely in front of a group of strangers, at a later date.

Long story short, I ended up having to put the scissors away and walk up to my meeting place with this bonehead...and spent the rest of the meeting acting like I was thinking really hard by covering my upper lip constantly with my hand.

And the status of the hair you ask? I came home from my meeting, went straight to the bathroom and plucked like a mad woman! Mark my words, I will wax the next time this happens - and yell "Kelly Clarkson" as she pulls the strip!


The Fat gods are Laughing at me...

I realize that I am overweight. When I walk up stairs, I am winded. When I shop for new clothes, my 18/20 tag is like a neon sign for everyone else in the store. When I shop for bras and panties, I buy the steel/titanium reinforced bras in standard big tit white (I never get to buy something cute and matching in pink, or purple, or green...you get the picture). And my stories about the food that I have put away! Bags of chips, boxes of crackers and cartons of cookies.

About 2 weeks ago I joined Weight Watchers. This angered the fat gods for the fat gods love fat people. And so, I had my first run in with the fat gods today and I think I lost miserably. I bought a new pair of pants at Target the other day. Now, I just admitted that I am a big girl so why would I lie about the size? However, I genuinely think they were sized incorrectly. They said size 18 but they fit like a 12 or 14 (Super tight...my fault since I never tried them on). However, I wore them with a cute sweater this morning and I figured that sitting in them on my to work would stretch them out a bit.

My office belongs to a couple of industry associations and we had a luncheon today that our entire office attended. As I was getting out of my car I heard a weird popping noise, like the sound of a zipper coming undone. I looked down and realized that it was not my zipper itself ripping, but the pants sewn onto the zipper. Holy crap...my pants were splitting at the front and I couldn't get them to stop. The entire seam ripped. I am about to walk into a room of 100 clients and fellow vendors and I have a giant gaping hole in my pants with my pink flower chonies just 'a shinin' through.

Quick on my feet. Quick on my feet. I coordinate weddings for the love of god...I can fix my pants. Thankfully, I have an emerency kit in my car for the events that I plan. I grabbed a hand full of safety pins and made a bee line for the bathroom. After a few pin pricks and some choice language, I was able to shore up my pantaloons and head out to my luncheon with a new found confidence. Little did I know that about 5 minutes after sitting down to listen to the speaker that one of the pins would come unhooked and poke me in the gut.

At the end of the day, I couldn't wait to get home so that I could change into my comfy jeans and a long sleeve comfy shirt...all of which fit me just fine. The pants, they are sitting in my bathroom trash can. I am sure that they could be fixed...but I could never trust a pair of pants that left me hangin!


Fat Guy in a Little Coat

I did it. I took the big plunge. I joined Weight Watchers. (I hope you're not mad at me Kirstie - I still love you!) So far, so good. Of course, it's only been two days but it is not bad at all. It's not a "resolution". I had a very eye opening conversation with a friend of mine a few weeks ago and realized that I really need to get this weight thing under control. So wish me luck...and keep the cow and whale comments to a minimum!



Well Played Oh Wealthy Ones!

I love the weather in San Diego...as do the five bazillion tourists who visit my fine city annually. In my travails today, I tripped across something that I had never taken notice of beofre. People who have lots of money, or want you to think they have lots of money, kind of dress like shit. It looked like they were all trying to hide the fact that they are loaded by dressing like hobos. Problem: Staying at The Del and arriving in a Mercedes blows your cover oh master of the masquerade!

I helped a friend of mine today coordinate a wedding at what is probably San Diego's most well known, and swankiest, hotels. It is expensive to stay there, historic and cool looking and just in my few hours there I saw Bentleys, Benzes, Beamers, Porsches, Hummers and countless chauffered town cars and limos. Not too shabby.

So explain to me this, why was everyone dressed like a bunch of assholes? When did leg warmers come back into style? How about gold lame fabrics that just look like gold foil? Did I miss the memo that stated rolling out of bed and not brushing your hair was chic? What the hell is the attraction with stirrup pants? 4 size too large sweaters? Dresses worn with pants? Fake CZ jewelry from HSN or QVC trying to pass for the real deal? Tight ass fitted jeans? I could go on and on...

I read Cosmo and Readers Digest...I know what looks good. I may not emulate it...but I self parked my 2003 Saturn today and I wore my favorite Target shoes with a pair of Kohls pants. This was a deplorable array of fashion that was forced upon my retinas and I am truly disgusted. I think maybe in 2007, I will start lobbying for a fashion policing organization that forces the wealthy to stop shopping at trendy little boutiques where the employees are paid on commission and insist everything you try on looks "absolutely hot on you" and instead force Nordstroms, Nine West and Ann Taylor down their throats until they cry out for mercy and promise to burn all of their over priced, made to look like trailer trash without the smell of trailer trash, grungy duds. Who's with me?


Things to not say when your in-laws are in town...

Let me set the scene for you...

My sister-in-laws (hereon referred to as SIL) birthday was December 21st. My husbands parents came into town for the holiday and we all decided to go to a fun seafood place here in San Diego. In celebration of said birthday, I bought 3 rounds of Scooby Snacks for my SIL, Sarah (sister) and myself. Tasty little treats!

So, the fam eats a fine meal and begins to depart towards the front door. Oddly enough, I was feeling a nice little buzz going and found the crocodile head sticking out of the wall by the front door entertaining (his mouth was holding mint candies I might add). His head reminded me of Peter Pan (you know the story...the crocodile who got Hooks hand).

Insert gratuitous Peter Pan photo here:

Oh dear Mother of Mary and all that is right and holy....

Back on topic! I had just finished telling Sarah that in mid-conversation with my FIL (you figure that one out), I had almost said the word "cock". Don't ask me what the conversation was cause I have been wracking my brain all morning and can't remember.

Me: "Sarah, I almost said cock." Giggle giggle.

Sarah: "Don't say cock."

Within the instant that these words were spoken from her mouth, I turned and saw my MIL reaching into the crocodile mouth to get a piece of candy. Without being able to stop myself I yelled:

"Tick Cock"

If you know the story of Peter Pan, you know that the crocodile had sounded like a clock anytime he came near. How clever was I to blurt out something so hilar...All time stood still and a moment of clarity overcame my right mind. For that one instance, I wondered if anyone had heard me. Then I looked at Sarah and knew instantly that I had been heard as if I was the only voice in the entire County of San Diego as the people awaited in anticipation my grand announcement of free Carne Asade Nachos for all!

Oh if I could have just gotten Happy Gilmore stuck in my head instead of Peter Pan...this could have all been avoided.


Merry Christmas!

Or as I would like to now call it...Travesty 2006!

Every year I worry about the fact that there are not enough gifts under the tree for my sister. And every year my sister is as happy as can be about the gifts she gets. While she is not all wrapped up in the quantity thing...I am superficial and very worried about it.

For Christmas 2006, I got her a Calder calendar, tickets to "The Color Purple" in Chicago and a set of monkey sheets. And one kick ass stocking full of goodies!

In detail, here is why Sarah did nor did not get all of the things on this list:

The Calder Calendar: Ordered 12/5/06 from Calendars.com (they are now dead to me) and as of 12/23/06...still not arrived. They will be getting another phone call on Tuesday! So, instead Sarah got my annual USAA boat calendar that my insurance company sends with an IOU on it.

Monkey Sheets: So, my husband and I found some really cute monkey sheets at Target and decided to purchase them for one Sarahbooboo...over a month ago. Upon wrapping them last night I discovered, they are the wrong size and not monkeys! What the hell??? She got clouds instead and faked happiness over them so I appreciated that.

Tickets: So, I decided to print the tickets off last night while wrapping Sarah's other pitiful gifts (see Calendar and Sheets above). I ordered them through Ticketmaster and had them e-mailed to me. Wouldn't you know it...our internet went out last night. After a few moments of panic and tears, JR figured out a way to get my tickets without me having to call my dad at midnight and have him print them. Wouldn't that have been a fun phone call since he swears "I live my life on E!"

Because I felt like Christmas for Sarah had fallen apart, JR turned her a pencil and pen set at 12:30 this morning and I made her a wedding planner. Just to top it all off, I gave her a set of chopsticks for her hair...chopsticks I bought in San Fran 2 months ago for my hair! HA!

Let's just say that she had better bring an extra suitcase to San Diego next year...cause I'm filling that bitch up!

Merry Christmas!