Nothing

The kid clogs better than I do.

That is all I have.

Failure 2.0

I'm blaming it on the Earner's schedule. It's hard for me to operate a Stealth Blog (let alone two) when he's lurking around, spying on me, needing laundry done, asking me to prepare random food items and in general throwing off my groove.

On his days off he routinely sleeps late, defies any attempts I make to rouse him from his slumber to make coffee for me, and naps. He sleeps a lot. As in, 3+ hour naps. I don't understand it. And then when he awakes, he wants me to make him coffee again!

Of course I haven't been full of energy myself lately, what with the Curse of Illness still gracing my person. Today's update: swollen neck glands. What a joy to not only look like a line backer, but have pain with every turn of the neck! Who knows what tomorrow could bring. Skin lesions? Strange growths? Offensive smells?

Stay tuned!

High Kicks and Hi Jinx

Could there be any show more fraught with anxiety about your looks and superficial behaviors than the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders: Making the Team 2?

I don't think so.

So then could someone explain to me why I had to sit and watch 2 hours of it last night and then watch 2.5 ti-fauxed hours of it this morning? Cheering for the hearing-impaired highly athletic girl, admonishing Loni for her lack of uniform high kicks, wishing that silly girl with bad grammar would NOT say something stupid, cheering when the late girl got booted, and really wishing that buff drill sergeant would take off his shirt?

Am I doomed to watching bad reality tv, picking on the "chubby" girl with a stacked body who didn't make the team while I eat Sour Cream and Onion chips and drink cup after cup of sugared tea? Nodding my head when Kelli explains that they have to be looking good, makeup on, hair done, always looking polished, any time they leave the house? Yes, I agree, as I sit on my couch with greasy hair in a pony tail, brushing crumbs from my baggy sweat pants. I grunt slightly when leaning over to hit the fast forward button through commercials so that I can continue screaming "Kelli Jo, get it together! Kick higher!"

It's not every day that you can pick on 103 pound girls and revel in the flaws of professional dancers. And I'm all about making the most of every opportunity.

Home Improvements

Should I be worried that my DIY neighbor is outside in half a sweatshirt, carrying 4 inch pvc piping around in his yard? And large orange garbage bags?

So I cut bangs in my hair last week, after going for a few years without them. My husband says "I like you with bangs", prompting me to dub this the New and Improved Me. For example, the old me would cry when she realized that she was out of books to read, and grab a couple of old favorites to re-read and tide herself over until an emergency run to the library. The New and Improved Me has chosen instead to watch ti-fauxed episodes of How It's Made and knit. And spend even more time online.

The old me would panic at 7:10 when I realized that we are all home at the same time and I don't have anything planned for dinner, and immediately locate oddball ingredients like 2 italian sausage links, a baked potato, several half-dead veggies in the crisper drawer, and a cup of rice, and whip up some delicious meal simmering in canned stewed tomatoes (best invention ever!) to be served at 7:34. The New and Improved Me microwaves a leftover piece of fried chicken for the Small Person, promising a Marry Me bar if she eats the whole thing, and lets the Earner get his own damn leftovers. I ate leftover Halloween candy.

I like this woman.

And on an unrelated note, why is there always someone in front of our local Walmart with a fresh leg injury? Seriously, casted, on crutches, splinted, wrapped in fresh gauze, using a walker or cane... there's always SOMEONE. And what I want to know is... what is it about a leg injury that says "let's go to Walmart"?

Wicked Witch

I had lots of fun asking her if she felt right all evening. "are you sure? you like kind of... pale. and green."

Failure

When baz signed me up for NaBloPoMo I had the best of intentions. I took on her challenge, ready to face the world and the blogosphere with my biting wit and sarcasm.

I lasted one day.

So now I'm back, having failed at the challenge here on this blog, but thankfully my sil has kept us alive over at the Fun Factory. Yay Brandy!

In the meantime, you want to hear what derailed yesterday's posting intentions?

The ax was falling at the Plastic Emporium, and two of The Earner's co-workers were laid off. A flurry of phone calls (him) and several trips to the bathroom (me) (damn that irritable bowel) later, and it turns out he's safe. For the moment.

Whew!

The Good Cough Medicine

Once again I have the Deathly Wheezing Bronchitis, same as last year. And I got more of the Good Cough Syrup, the stuff with Vicodin in it. And then this morning everyone overslept and The Earner was late getting out the door.

Coincidence? I think not.

We safely endured Halloween. Pictures to follow.

But first, more coffee!