New Year's Resolution #33... I owned you!

I have a blog? What? It’s Friday and I’m pretty thankful this week is O-V-E-R. I am sorry for my LONG absence; things have been a little crazy around here. I’ll list a few updates and get into it more next week.

The bad:
1. My husband was away for two months.

2. He had to sleep in an icky hotel.

3. We have bed bugs in our house from said icky hotel.

4. The bed bugs were biting us in our sleep.

5. We have been living in a hotel because of said bugs.

6. Our cars are being treated for bed bugs and we have to drive a rental.

7. The rental is an HHR (barf!)

8. I had to bring Miss Har to work yesterday – she hates my job.

9. Hubs is working shift work in the ER this month.

10. My birthday grandpa is very stricken with *C word. He is home, but we’re not sure how long he has.

11. My dad is the biggest B-HOLE I know.

12. It’s raining.

13. Leaves are ALREADY starting to fall off the trees (stay leaves! stay!)

The good:

1.My mom is amazing.

2.I love my husband so much right now I could burst.

The AH-mazing:

Rain go away and don't come back, you bastard!

Thunderstorms are crazy and last night was a doozie! I woke up at 5am to the snap-crackle-pop of thunder as lightening filled my room. Then the rain. SO MUCH rain! Whenever it rains I freak out a little. Our basement has flooded three times now (only ONCE due to rain) and I'm always scared to find our finished basement swimming in it's own contents. I sat very still and listened for the sump pump to kick on. Listening... Listening... Nothing. Our gutter on the backside of the house is broken so all I could hear was water dumping down off the house outside my bedroom window.

Finally I must have tired from listening and fell asleep. Then around 645, the power flickered - WHEW! Except then. OUT. The battery back up in our room started chirping, which was annoying enough to raise me out of bed to unplug it.

Just as I was about to resume the listening...I remembered the sump pump is powered by the electricity that we'd just lost. EFFF!

I fished around in the den for our flashlight (note, get new batteries for the flashlight, it's going dim) and ventured downstairs. It was light outside by now, of course, because I would NEVER EVER EVER venture down into the basement (where the killers are) in the nighttime. I shined my light down the black hole to look at the pump and the water level was fine. Then I heard water. Dripping. Like FAST dripping.

I looked up at the basement window and saw an avalanche of rain water cascading from the windowsill, onto the wall, onto the carpet. EFFFFF!! The window literally looked like a fishbowl, submerged in water (from the broken gutter) and the paint was peeling off the wall as the water trickled down. God what I would have given for five minutes with McGyver this morning. I needed a contraption to catch the water coming off of the ledge before it soaked the wall. I had no such invention. Instead, I placed a bucket as flush to the wall as I could to catch the water, while the rest soaked into the wall and carpet.

and then went upstairs to call the gutter man and pray for the rain to stop but apparently both God and the gutter man were out of the office this morning.

The power didn't come back on until 9:30am and there was no way I was going to work with wet hair. I rolled in about noon today.

I don't even think anyone noticed.

Prayers and Wishes for Grandpa

My birthday grandpa is having a big surgery on Friday. I am traveling to be with him but I was hoping you all could *think.think.think* happy thoughts for us.

Jennie! got him some lingonberry jam [yay Ikea, yay Sweden!] She is a jam dealer, she deals jam, if you didn't already know.

I am also going to bring him a chocolate malt from Sonic.

My mom told me that lately his diet consists of cashews and left over Easter candy. I decided that seeing as though my pop-pop is 91 and about to go into the hospital for major surgery, if he wants to eat jam-covered-Sonic malt-chocolate bunny heads all day long - WHO CARES! I might even join him.

I think malts, jam and candy should fix my birthday grandpa right up. That and *lots* of hugs from his favorite red-headed granddaughter.

The last time everyone sent good wishes it worked beautifully. Please send more. I beg you.

Read more about my Pop-pop and his *sparkly* blue eyes

Here

and Here and HERE

and that one time when the nurse got him drunk... HERE!

April showers bring snow, ants, diarrhea and misery - there's a slogan for ya!

This week brought the stomach flu

I had to surrender a beautiful filet and ice cream sundae to my husband (see previous statement)

It snowed

AND.

BETTER.

YET.

We accidentally stood up OUR RABBI and his ENTIRE family for Seder last night.

Wow, standing up the Rabbi – now that’s the highlight of my week.

Don’t worry, we marked it on the calendar for NEXT year that Jewish holidays start THE EVENING BEFORE THE ACTUAL HOLIDAY. Oh wait, excuse me, my palm is beeping… “Seder at the Rabbi’s House Tonight”… thanks for that reminder. [throw cell phone]

Also:

The blind guy was booted off American Idol

I have cramps

I've had nothing but soy yogurt, Gatorade and magic soup for three days and haven't lost a single pound.

My loser ex boyfriend from 1994 friended me on Facebook (*newsflash* he's still a loser; but I'm hot, married and successful so I friended him anyway)

There were ants all over our kitchen counter this morning

My family is coming on Sunday to celebrate my birthday. I wanted to make reservations for dinner… but forgot…it’s Easter and places are closed. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Frick!

Dear week,

I hate you. Please go away and let me forget you ever existed.

Thank you,
Tam


The *bright* side:

My Proactive came in the mail yesterday

Economic times have forced Nicholas Cage to sell his castle. Thankfully, he has another one (hint: I've always wanted a castle)

My Caffeine test strips came in the mail yesterday

My husband was awarded a scholarship

Kal Penn was killed off House to work for OBAMA. The good news is: he's no longer permitted to make Harold and Kumar movies.

All of my fingernails are long and painted pink

Easter candy goes on sale on Monday

My husband is adorable when he cuddles my cat AND he drove 20 minutes out of his way last night to get me a Truffle Blizzard(R) that I saw on TV - only to bring it home and have me take three bites and let the rest melt. (seriously, murdering me would have been quicker and cheaper)

I'm getting my birthday present in THREE DAYS

Please leave a message after the beep

Dear loyal reader(s)

I cannot come to the blog right now because I am having my assk handed to me by life. The stress is eating at my insides as if I swallowed a million tape worms and their babies. New Mexico, work, presentation, STATS FINAL, packing, dirty house, travel, AH! AH! AH! Can’t eat. Can’t sleep and I’m having a hard time being nice to people or caring about anything that anyone tells me (and unlike some people, this is abnormal for me).

It’s times like these when I realize that

A) I rarely use my brain these days and when I do it’s like starting up a rusty chain saw – still sharp but you might get tetanus if you get too close.

B) I handle stress worse with age

C) I know exactly why people snort Xanax. Honest to blog I thought about it this morning.

I am taking a break from my blog (unless I run into Taye Diggs in New Mexico and then I will totally brag about it on my blog the very second after we are done making out) until I get back.

If you stop by to see if I am back yet, leave me a message. I like when people do that. AND you can pray that the stress of my mildly eventful life doesn’t kill me.

Also: I saw a cute quote last night: “Good girls keep diaries…bad girls have blogs!”

Also: The Macy’s fine jewelry department is going out of business and everything is 60%-70% off with an additional 20% if you use your beloved red credit card. I saved some of my Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza money and with it, I’m buying myself a pearl necklace. Today. After work. Right after I check my belly button for tape worm babies.

Also: BEEP!

you're shorter - you take the heavy end

Sorry so slow on the posts but I’ve been busy at work. One week left until Santa Fe and I have yet to start on my power point for the conference. My presentation is on substance abuse in elderly populations and this afternoon I actually wished I had a picture of my dear birthday grandpa swiggin’ down some gin and tonics! (I figured asking him to toke on a crack pipe would be pushing it.) All in a day’s work people.

Anywho, the GREAT COUCH HUNT OF 2009 continues this weekend. Last weekend was a total bust because we drove all over God’s green earth (why do people say this?) only to find out Macy’s Furniture website is full of lies – LIES I tell you! Why would you make up dimensions of a couch? To infuriate my husband to the point where he wants to hit you in your stupid face with his Croc (the shoe not the pot)?

We discovered two things: 1) furniture sales are completely misleading and 2) getting shocked with a tape measure fifty times in one day SOUPER-sucks.

It’s supposed to be 60 degrees and sunny tomorrow and I’ll be damned if unattached couch cushions are going to ruin my day. We have one promising option and if we can find a way to push, pull, or drag it to our house without filing for divorce – it will be a miracle.

Wish us luck!

I'm too busy to tell people how busy I am

Saying I’m having a slow period at work is an understatement. I am having a stopped period at work. Granted our project runs in six month cycles: collect data (ie., interview drug users, dealers, cops, treatment providers), transcribe data (my student does, not me), analyze data, write up report, edit reports, submit reports to the state, edit reports again, post for publication. Our cycles end in January and June. We are between the “submit report to the state” portion of our June cycle and just before the “transcribe data” for January. I.E. NOTHING TO DO RIGHT NOW. Until we get approval to move forward with the June reports and the tapes transcribed for the January reports were are at a numbing stalemate.

My job pays me probably more money than it should for the actual amount of work produced. It has a flexible schedule (9:30am-5pm), a generous lunch (1hr) and my own office (er, uh. cubical) to keep my stuff in. I really can’t complain (and with a 7% unemployment rate and friends and family losing their jobs, I feel guilty for complaining) and besides I have two other jobs and a hunky husband to keep me busy. However, my previous jobs had me up to my ears in stress and work. Tasks that made my brain spin with cost effective strategies and decisions that impacted the way people received services. I miss that. I actually miss forgetting to eat, back-to-back meetings and not opening a single browser all day. I miss feeling like I contributed to something on a daily basis and that my input was vital to the happenings of an organization. Research, epidemiological/anthropological research at that, just isn’t meant to produce immediate gratification. Damn you epidemiology (one time a bitchy girl from my high school asked my mom if I give epidurals all day long. Um. no. AND, you're officially dumb.) I think jobs reflect different times in our lives that can mostly be summed up by cliches: entry level; means to an end; paycheck to paycheck; pain in the a@@. This is my blue period. Not sad blue, just stalemate blue and in nineteen months we will be off on a new adventure. In the next six months or so we get to start planning and thinking about that move. It might be the biggest move of my life thus far. Where? I don’t know. I am excited, but it had better not be blue.

Did I mention I submitted an abstract on substance abuse in the elderly (those oldies love them some crack!) and I might be HERE for St. Patty’s Day? Giada liked it, so I'm sure I will too! (Seriously, could she possibly eat the food in a more sexy way?) Sorry internets, if accepted, I’ve already asked my mom to join me. She’s having a blue period too.

I want to marry you again every day

I have an awesome husband.
I suffered a brief nervous breakdown on Friday night when I came home to piles of cat puke on the bed room carpet, IN my new work boots and ON THE BED. So I added puke-cleaning and puke-laundry to the list of house-cleaning and food-prepping already filling my night. I rocked out to Christmas music like a good little Jew, and threw in my new Spring Awakening CD [This sound track is now filed under my modern musical ‘faves’ list, below Rent and Wicked but ahead of Avenue Q.] I went to bed wishing my husband wasn’t at the hospital and keeping one eye open to watch out for cat puke.

On Saturday morning I had to get up early to work at the gym and my grandparents and parents were coming over to eat dinner. Around noon, husband was coming off of a 30-hour call and really stepped it up. He came home and didn’t even take off his scrubs [which he looks totally HOT in] – just got straight to work chopping onions and prepping the meatloaf. I hate smelly-onion-fingers and I double hate playing pattie-cake with raw meat. He knows this all too well, and took two for the team. Not only did he helped me make [and clean up] the meal, but he gave me all of the credit for it. He schmoozed my grandparents, made my mom giggle and watched the OSU game without complaining a bit that my Dad talked through the entire game. After they left, and we were both totally exhausted, he romanced me to sleep.

On Sunday we woke up bright and early [at 11am] to get ready to go to my brother’s college graduation. We laughed that we were for once attending a graduation that wasn’t one of our own and made fun of what people were wearing. Husband gave my brother a high five as he walked in line to the ever-familiar graduation anthem. He also added a “woot woot” as we cheered when my brother’s name was called. Seeing as though our middle brother is estranged from us, I know it meant the world to my brother to have his new brother-in-law cheering him on. Afterwards we had a great dinner with the family, poking fun at each other and telling funny stories.

As we drove away, I was sad to leave my grandpa after watching him struggle over the last two days with small things like our front stoop and eating broccoli. I made sure to hug him and make a memory. I kissed him on his cheek and remembered his big blue eyes just before we got into the car. I began to cry as we drove off wondering if that would be my last time with him – my birthday twin grandpa. My husband immediately swerved the car and pulled up to the nearest Graeters Ice Cream where we shared a double cookie sundae. Husbands and sundaes always make things happier. We shared a glass of wine before bed and he drifted off to sleep on my arm within seconds of hitting the pillow. I laid there thinking about my sick cat, my sweet grandpa, how proud I was of my brother and what an amazing guy I married. He’s incredible… and I’ll show you on Thursday.
Excited Brother and Husband

dance around the room, dance around the room!!

Caution: What I am about to describe might make you cry and will definitely make you raging mad. Be warned.

I’ve decided not letting someone sit with you at lunch should be a federal offense. Penalty: Death. Yesterday was DH’s birthday, his 30th birthday, mind you. He is on rotation in a big giant hospital and had just enough time to grab some afternoon nurishment. This was the scene of the crime:

Gorgeously attractive [and married] birthday boy walks into cafeteria with tray of odd and sundry items including soft serve from the ice cream bar. He sees two fellow students, very average-looking girls, sitting in the cafeteria also having lunch.

Boy: Hi! Can I sit with you?
People I want to kill: Well, no. We’re about to leave anyway.

So he goes and sits at a table alone 10 feet away. Not FIVE MINUTES LATER another boy [who was not a BIRTHDAY boy] asked said assholes if HE could sit with them… AND HE DOES. Better yet, they don't leave!! Meanwhile my birthday husband eats lunch alone in the cafeteria.

When I was 16, I was suspended from high school for fighting in the cafeteria. When I was 17, I was suspended from high school for trying to hit a girl with my car. I also got two detentions for telling a history teacher that I was probably way smarter than she was, just not in history. My questions to you, dear internets, are these… 1) Can you get suspended from work? And 2) does anyone have a shitty car that they don’t mind getting a little blood on?

And, and, when the officer tries to arrest me, I will tell him the story and the jury will acquit me. Kind of like that woman, who killed her pastor husband, spent like three months in jail and got her kids back last week. Jury’s verdict: he had it coming to him.

Not to mention these two inconsiderate cyborgs are going to be doctors! Compassion? Caring for others? I’m sorry completely average looking girls, but you are lacking requirements #1 and #2 for doctordom – please go to the end of the line for your punch in the pie hole. This was one of those things, that if it happened to me… what-ev. But, when it happens to HIM… I’m a newlywed on a rampage. I also have a pretty pissed off mom and a couple of hard core friends who think that making someone eat alone on their birthday deserves the biggest whoop ass this city has ever seen. True Story.

It’s a good thing 20 friends, the in-laws, a TON of food, and rock band could make up for that no good, very bad, day. There are lots of leftovers and the band is touring at a household near you, so call for tickets.

Where in the world is Juan SanDiego?

I'm a new woman. I changed my name. I dropped my middle name, made my maiden name my middle name, and added the new last name. Apparently this is a hard concept for people to understand. I received my new ATM card and it has my first name, my old middle initial and two last names. Even though I signed the papers – exactly – how I wanted my new name to read. AND online it says my old name, and I can’t access half my accounts!? What the hell?

Speaking of my new name, my new SS card came in the mail yesterday. How does my brand new card already look icky and dingy? It’s like this used, crusty paper that they print them on. I think they want the cards to look “vintage.” I always thought my card looked like that because it was SO OLD. Guess not. Anyhow this is how the conversation went.

Scene: Two gorgeously attractive married people are home from work and sorting through the mail. Wife and Dear Husband converse:

Me: I got my new Social Security Card
DH: ...
Me: Will you put it in the safe for me, I can’t reach
DH: [opens the envelope and looks at the card] SUCCCCKER!!!
Me: Why I am a sucker?
DH: For marrying ME!

Life has been crazy since we got home from our honeymoon.

Sunday morning July 20 10:30am
Me: DH! DH! Are you here?
DH: Yes
Me: Why didn’t you say goodbye to me before going to the airshow?
DH: I didn’t go to the air show, I’m still here.
Me: Why are you still here?
DH: Do you really want to know?
Me: Yes…
DH: Our basement is flooded.

Monday morning July 21 7:00am
Me: [sits up in bed] Is everything okay?
DH: Do you have the receipt from the ATM withdrawal we made in Mexico?
Me: Yes, It’s on the TV. Why?
DH: Do you really want to know?
Me: um.. yes…
DH: Someone stole all of our money.
Me: What you mean someone stole our money?
DH: Someone got our ATM # in Mexico and drained our bank account. We have negative thirteen dollar and fifty six cents
Me: Shit.

So on Sunday DH and my dad sucked water out of our basement and Monday we spent at the police station and the bank. Apparently there was a skimmer device on the ATM in Mexico that takes a scan of your number and pin. They can then make a copy of your card and use it to drain your cash. The bank has to go through a fraud investigation and then we “should” get our money back. In the meantime – we’re poor, well poorer than before, and Juan is running around with our bill/wedding money.

DH: You know what the worst part about this is… I bet that person who stole our money is not using it for noble causes.

We can all hope that some entrepreneurial Mexican is spoon feeding chickpeas to homeless babies with our money. At least that’s what we’ll tell ourselves…