Unintentional Hilarity

Good morning, my lovely bloggy buddies. Have I told you lately that I love you? 'Cuz I do. Sorry, I'm feeling a little shmoopy this morning. It happens -- ignore me.

No, wait, don't really ignore me! I have stuff to say!

This morning when I got to work I found a little bit of comic gold waiting for me. I'm sure you all know by now that part of my job is to be the office manager for a group of humorless assclowns financial advisors, which basically means that everyone in the office feels entitled to bother me with all of the office's perceived flaws and short-comings. If we're down to 3 rolls of TP in the closet, you better believe I'm gonna hear about it. If the copy machine sucks in more than one page of paper at a time, it's my problem. Low on coffee creamer - RED ALERT! Drop everything!

You get the idea. It's super fun (NOT) and I can't believe I've been selling myself out for as long as I have, but whatever. It pays the bills and it couldn't be more easy or flexible, so I put my ego and sense of self-worth in a jar each day between the hours of 8:30 and 4 and suck it up. Today when I got to work I found this note, and I couldn't help myself; I pulled out my cell and took a picture and said to my crazy cat lady coworker, "I just have to prove to my friends that this is really my life."

Behold the lameness:


I'll alert the media! Shall I get out my sledge hammer and hard hat and start busting open the walls to locate the decaying rodent? Perhaps I should call the police to come investigate to make sure it's not a dead hooker that someone stashed in the utility closet? Honestly, what is it that they expect me to do about a mysterious odor with no apparent source?

The solution I'd LIKE to use is to drop off a box of Glade Plug-Ins on the note-writer's desk and leave her a note of my own. Something along the lines of,

"Maybe these will help with the mysterious odor. If you need ideas on where to stick them, just let me know."

ANYWHO.

What else is new? I had a nice day off yesterday, so I'm feeling sprightly and refreshed today. No, really! I did some laundry then went and got my hair done. Obsession is a strong word, so I'll just say that my fondness for Zooey Deschanel has peaked, so I decided to go all out and get some bangs because I dig her look. I don't think this pic does my 'do justice -- I got a bunch of funky highlights that you can't see in this light, but you get the idea:



After my hair appointment I went over Laurie's and hung out a bit, then she and her daughter and I went and did a little shopping and had dinner. Laurie's new car is pretty sweeeeeeet - she's got a bright red Mini Cooper convertible, and I can't wait to ride in it this weekend with the top down. I'm gonna don a head scarf and go all Thelma & Louise on yo' asses. Trust.

So, all in all, it was a great day. I shall cling to it today as I suffer the quiet desperation of my day-to-day work existence. Good things lie ahead for the weekend, and I plan to rock n' roll all night (and party every day)... and you know I'll take pictures.

Back to the shmoopiness -- you're all awesome and intelligent and The Bev loves you. Can you feel it? (no, not that... pervs) One last thing -- congrats to Frank for making it to numero uno on the comment list! It's so nice when hard work pays off. Well done, and thank you all for your hilarious comments. I live for them.
*MUAH*

Sort-of-Wordless Wednesday

This is my favorite time of year to live in New England. I love the foliage and the weather, the holidays and the traditions. I've been meaning to take some pictures of the leaves but just haven't gotten around to it. This weekend we're heading to Boston and Cape Cod, so I hope to catch some good pics! Until then, I just took a few cell phone pics of my own yard. I'm feeling a bit lazy on this rainy day, so this is pretty much all I've got for blog fodder. Enjoy.





Have a bevtastic day. :)

Vegie Garden

I must say that although we spent many hours and many dollars making our vegie garden, the rewards have not really lived up to expectation. Moondoggie and I decided to do some harvesting and although we had fun it was not a plentiful crop to say the least.

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We may have only produced a mouthful but I must say it was a great activity to do with the kids. The process, from buying the plants, digging the bed, watering, watching the growth, and then picking the vegies was a healthy, outdoor activity that was also heaps of fun. I think we'll persevere and see if we can produce more next time around.

Come Skate With Me

I'm feeling the need to don my skates, it has been too long and I'm having withdrawals. I found these fabulous skating posters a while ago and am contemplating framing them. I particularly love the 'Naked On Skates'! You'll be very pleased to know that I will NEVER do that!

There is relief ahead though. 'WHIP IT' is coming to a theatre near you and you had better believe that I will be there - with my skates!!! There will definitely be some skating mayhem after the movie so stay out of Yarraville for a couple of weeks.

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In case you have no idea what I am talking about - 'Whip It' is Drew Barrymore's directorial debut and stars such delights as Ellen Page (Juno) Drew herself, and Juliette Lewis.

In Bodeen, Texas, an indie-rock loving misfit finds a way of dealing with her small-town misery after she discovers a roller derby league in nearby Austin.

I can not wait - I haven't been this excited about a movie in forever.

My week is off to a strange start

Insomnia happens to all of us from time to time. For me, those times come very rarely because I live in a constant state of borderline exhaustion and have done so since my first son was born six years ago. I stay up too late, you see, and my kids get me up too early. Such is life, and I cherish those few hours of post-bedtime "me" time in the evening too much to change my ways.

So tonight - today, really - I found myself awake at 2:15 AM for no good reason except that two days of sleeping in and taking naps have apparently rendered me caught up on my sleep. I wasn't worrying, which is usually the reason I'll wake up during the night. I was just... up. Strangely enough M started in with a low, half-awake cry around 2:30 and J and I waited him out for a minute or two until he went back to sleep. I couldn't get back to sleep, so I fumbled with my contacts and went downstairs. Notice I didn't say I put on my glasses? Yeah, M stole/hid/magically disappeared my glasses a week or so ago. Can't find them anywhere. It's not very convenient, to put it mildly.

Our water softener was performing its regular nightly (?) maintenance down in the basement, so when I stepped into my darkened hallway it sounded like there was some kind of beast breathing heavily and loudly somewhere in my house. That got the old heart rate up until I got the light on and recognized the sound.

My brother-in-law is visiting, and he never sleeps well. I had no sooner gotten a glass of water and made myself comfortable on the couch when I heard footsteps upstairs in the vicinity of the guest room. I rolled my eyes and clicked on the TV, then turned around to say hi to him as he appeared at the bottom of the stairs in his underwear. He had clearly thought it was Jim who was up, so he covered his groin with his hands and said, "Oh, it's you." Then we grinned lamely at each other and he retreated back up the stairs.

I turned back around to see that the cable channel had been left on HBO, so there was a dude with a huge pink dildo on the screen talking about getting something wet! AAAACK!!! It was some kind of Adult Video Awards show or some crap - the kind of stuff Skinemax and the others play at 3 AM, ya know?

Crap on a stick. My brother-in-law now thinks I was watching p*rn by myself at 3 AM. Greeeeeeeat.

NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT.

But does he really think I can't go one night while he's visiting without sneaking downstairs to get my p*rno on? Sigh.

Anywhoooooo. At this point it's too late to go back to sleep for an hour before M is up for the day, so I'm enjoying a little quiet solo time before getting another week started. I'm dreading work today; I skipped out a little early on Friday and I'm not sure if my boss will have noticed or not. He's known for calling me at 3:52 on a Friday afternoon just to say hi/check to see if I'm still there.



I've been more miserable than usual at work lately. Winter's coming and I always start to feel like I want to move things to where they're gonna sit all winter long, and that goes for my livelihood as well as my lawnmower. I'll finish out the year, but I really need to find something a little more challenging for 2010. It's just hard to give up the easy, flexible gig even though I honestly hate the work.

I've been slacking off these past few days. Gotta be sharp and efficient this week. Gotta shower my family with affection. Gotta prep for a fun kid-free anniversary weekend next weekend! And I definitely need to cut out the naps and exercise more because being lazy is messing with my REM cycles.

Here's to a great week, everyone!

Why does Bert always get the shaft?

I'm ignoring the obvious joke about how B&E are actually lovahs, so that's not what I mean by "shafted." I don't judge. Muppets are free to love whomever they want, I say!

ANYWHO. It's Friday, and I'm feeling frivolous. (Brought to you by the letter F!)

As the mother of a toddler, I watch a lot of Sesame Street. Both of my sons went through/are going through an Elmo phase, and I honestly don't mind watching The Street because my 2 year-old is actually counting to 10 and singing his ABC's already, thanks to his TV time. He likes his SS so much that he gets me up at 5:30 AM every day so he can squeeze in an episode before school. Isn't that lovely?

Ha... not so much. I'm not a morning person, and 5:30 is just an ungodly hour if you ask me. It's dark out and my REM cycles are all wonky from going to bed too late, usually after having imbibed a glass or two of moderately-priced red wine the night before. Early mornings are just not prime Bev time, let's put it that way.

At any rate, lately I've been wondering why it is that Bert is such a second-class citizen of the Sesame 'hood. My kid gets all excited when ERNIE comes on, but when they finally give Bert a little screen time - nothin' but crickets. M knows everybody's names, even Zoe's (!), but not Bert's. Poor Bert.

I mentioned the lack of Bert sketches to Jim and he laughed and said he'd noticed the same thing in a Sesame St. book he reads to M at bedtime; Bert is featured prominently in the illustrations, yet he has not a single line in the whole story. He's essentially a background artist living in the shadow of his more famous partner, stuck playing idly with his pigeon (that's what they call it in the 'hood) in the shabby chic apartment that he and Ernie share.

Come to think of it, among famous duos the straight man always kind of gets ignored. One of them is always second-best, right? Case in point:




Kind of makes me wonder if I'm a Bert or an Ernie in my relationships. Of course I think I'm the Ernie, but doesn't everybody think they're the Ernie? Nobody wants to be Oates or Garfunkle, after all.

If I had to choose, I'd be Cookie Monster, if for no other reason than I fucking love cookies. Plus, he's kind of fat and happy and a little dumb, but he's likable enough and everybody gives him a pass because he's a nice guy. That sure beats being the "plus one" for a short orange dude with a funny laugh and a strange fascination with his rubber bath toy.

If you lived on Sesame Street, who would you be?

Boobs: A love story

You all know I love boobs, my own in particular. I don't know why I'm such a tit-fanatic, I really don't. Maybe it's because I wasn't breastfed? Maybe because I was already a D cup in 9th grade? Maybe because I'm just a natural-born perv, as evidenced every time I open my mouth or start typing on the ol' blogaroonie? Who knows. Fact is, I don't even care, I just like 'em and think it's important to feel 'em at any opportunity.

Stacie reminded us today that next week is National FEEL YOUR BOOBIES week, so I am going to wax poetic about ta-tas and urge my lady friends to feel themselves up today in the name of science and good health. Guys, you can help, just get permission first, ok?

After reading Stacie's blog I ran right over to Boobicon to make my own graphic for the OOBH. Would you believe that I had a terrible time finding a picture of myself with sufficient cleavage?! I know! I was shocked. I thought I had zillions of photos of my stunning rack! I think I'll take a look at home and see if I can find a better one later, but this'll do for now.

Last week Cary posted the "feel your boobs" PSA with that Canadian bimbo VJ, and some people didn't like it. Pppfffftt. If it raises awareness of a worthy cause, who cares? The girl's got nice bazoombas and it certainly gets your attention, so STFU.



Incidentally, every time I see this spot all I notice is that one of her boobs is slightly bigger than the other. I can totally relate; one of mine is just a touch more voluptuous than the other, too. It's kind of irritating because that's the one that always pops out of the top of my bra a little bit when I bend over or am, ya know, moving. Yet another reason to be sedentary, right? Just keepin' it real.

Anywho, boobs are wonderful things, and I love mine. In fact, I'm thankful for them, so technically this post is Thankful Thursday material. In all seriousness, cancer is nothing to joke around about. This might be the only case in which being a boob-loving perv could save your life, so get groping, ok?

Feeling your boobies is awesome. I'm doing it right now!