Leap

Leap Day is now.  For about another hour and a half. Which also signals the end of February, the month in which I made some plans, and while they weren't all played out as I had laid out at the beginning of the month, more things were accomplished than if I had made no plans at all. And that, Reader, is a check in the "win" column.

I had planned on writing some witty (humor me, it's only polite) little post to end this leap day month, however I follow a blog about real life stuff and it was sad and has me bawling and anything flippant and nonsense-y I had planned just isn't there,  because first of all, I'm crying over here, and second, just. no. Not now. I'm not a newscaster who can tell a horrific story and then leap with a smile and a haha into a story about a cute puppy. I mean, I like cute puppy stories, but not in the same breath as a horrific news event. A little space, that's all. 

In some other news, just to keep you up-to-date with Bang Bang Homefront News, I've been working on a big presentation for My Mister for an appointment that he has tomorrow afternoon. Could be a Big Deal, so fingers crossed.  A little bit of luck to pair up with the hard work would sure be welcomed. But really, we have no problems to speak of so whatever the outcome, we'll be okay. 

Keep perspective, Reader, and faith in another good day for you and those you love. Sending it out to all of you from Chez Bang Bang.

xo

Ketchup

To blame New York for my not reaching my goal of a blog-a-day seems fair, Reader. I couldn't keep up, I was working and then tired, and then we were delayed a whole entire day coming home due to weather, then some other stuff happened once I got home and the next thing ya know,  it's now. 

So here we sit.  

I figure I'll give you some highlights, one for each of the days since the last day I posted. I think that's maybe 11 days ago, but I really don't know without checking and frankly that's just more effort than I am interested in putting forth right now so let's just go with 11 and call it fair.  None of these items are in anyway related to each other, unless they are, and they might not even make sense out of context, but hey I never said I owed you 11 good highlights, did I? No, I did not. 

1. I spent hours and hours on Sunday cleaning my hardwood floors. They are a 4-stage process and a lot-lot-lot of work. The phases are: Sweeping. Vacuuming. Mopping. Polishing.  I was exhausted by the end of all that, but the floors looked ah.mazing. And then I got up this morning and the cat had thrown up right on the shiny cleaned floor, as if to say "screw-you, Mama, that's where this goes, gaaak." I felt it was a little rude, quite frankly. Cats are assholes. 

2.  It was so cold in New York City during Valentine's weekend that my iPhone just shut the eff off right there in the middle of Times Square when I tried to take a picture. But we did manage to get this cold picture at some point, I had to cut my co-worker out of it because permissions and line-crossings, but yeah, it was cold. 

3. I'm sort of surprised at how long my hair has gotten, all of a sudden. It's like a teenage boy who just had an overnight growth spurt and now he's all long and lanky and his voice is crackly.  Even my hairdresser/friendie commented on the whole all-of-a-sudden-long-hairedness.  All I can attribute it to is that I've been on a morning green smoothie binge and adding in my Juice Plus nutritional capsules along with adding in my Jobees bee pollen.   No, Reader, I'm not compensated in any way for that crap, it's just stuff I've had in my cabinets for a while because I go through intermittent healthy living spurts that never seem to stick long enough to become a habit, but we're trying again anyway. I'm merely point out, it's the only thing that I've been doing differently and suddenly my hair seems longer.  I should be a Breck Girl. 

4. Hm...what else has happened?

5. Yes, I'm counting that. And this. 

6. While in New York, we had dessert from Carlo's Bake Shop, which was disappointing, but we were going back for seconds anyway, when I noticed a Crumbs cupcakery across the street. I bought 10 of them to take home and share with my coworkers (we were on our way to the airport at the time) but then our flight was cancelled so the cupcakes ended coming home with me the next day and never made it in to my coworkers. So basically I ate anywhere from 7 to 8 cupcakes (who's counting, really) myself, all while I'm trying to get ship-shape prior to my cruise in April.  Substitute the word "trying" in that last sentence with "thinking about." Apparently. Very little trying is happening, unless eating cupcakes is a form of trying. Then I am trying very very hard. 

7. Far too many of my friendies - possibly including yourself, Reader - have been waylaid by some sort of malady this year. I mean, a lot. I spent a couple hours Saturday in the hospital visiting someone, and let me tell you, I was quite impressed at the hospital room. They've come a long way, Baby. It was spacious, private, and hi-tech. But enough already with the illnesses, Reader! You're going to turn my long hairs grey. I'm worried about all of you!!  All of you lucky enough to not be afflicted with anything too woeful, practice a Gratitude Moment right now.  You could have brain fluid leaking out of your nose (yes, that's a real thing that someone I love is going through). 

8. I'm revamping this blog! It's big news, Reader, and deserves more than #8, but consider this just a teaser, if you've made it this far. The Big Reveal and Redirect will be happing in the next couple of weeks. So yeah, I'm not just sitting around eating cupcakes as you may be led to believe. I'm TCB*ing over here. 

9. I haven't managed to get up early to work out at all. Not even one day. Not even early enough to sit and enjoy a cuppa coffee at the kitchen table before starting my day. Nothing extra has happened except for a few stretches as I'm getting dressed.  Even I can't count that as a win, unless "win" gets redefined as not getting any worse. Hm. Maybe that IS a win after all. 

10. Speaking of my longer hair, which has been prone to tangling up like a knotted hot mess underneath, to the point that my friendie had to cut a giant hunk out of the back of my head a couple of weeks ago, my hairdresser/friendie mentioned above gifted me with this brush, which has saved me from turning into a dreadlocked hipster with a big bald patch in the back of my head. Yep, that was a run-on sentence. Take a breath now. In your mind, because you're just silently reading this and I hope that doesn't leave you out of breath, or wow, we've got problems.  

11. I should have not made such a big commitment here with 11 things. Which sort of reminds me of a time when my exhusband challenged me to measure a spot on the wall for a new entertainment unit, so I grabbed the tape measure and got all cocky about it and took the measurement because he didn't think I knew how to measure. I mean, come on. Who can't measure?? But then we got to the store to buy one, and he asked me "So how big is the space?" and I said, "Eleven."  "Eleven what?" "Just...Eleven. The tape measure stopped at the eleven." Needless to say, we didn't buy an entertainment unit that day. So yeah. Eleven.  

*It's an Elvis thing. Taking Care of Business. In a Flash. Catch up, Reader. 

 

Cracked Under Pressure

So we're not going to meet the goal of an entry a day. Guess what other goal we're not going to meet this month, Reader? I'll give you a hint, sounds like ~pulls on earlobe~  "shit gup ferly and twerk shout." 

Yeah. So that apparently isn't going to happen while it's 62 cold degrees in my house at 6 a.m. That's the reason. The only thing stopping me from success. 

Of course, I could program the thermostat to kick in around 5:30 a.m., but it's tricky and would require me to read small print and stuff, so I'll just wait til it warms up outside.  Or something.

I say "or something" because my friendie and I finally officially booked our yearly trip, and I have a scant few weeks to get bikini-ready*. 

I'd been doing suck-ins like crazy, but between you and me, I don't think they were really doing much good. 

I know, I'm surprised, too! 

I really thought we were on to something, Reader, and had stumbled upon the next fitness craze.  

The only thing that happened for sure was my jeans were tighter in the waist, and I think I gained two pounds, but I attributed that to "muscle weighs more than fat" but I'm starting to think it was just too many cakes.  I mean, I had baked a cake from scratch during Cakecrastination Sunday a couple of weeks back, and while I ate almost the entire thing over the course of several days ... ahem.... I mean, those calories were spaced out.  You'd think that the careful spacing would make them airier and lighter and almost like they weren't even there, like they'd float up into the atmosphere or something. 

That's what I thought might happen. 

Instead my pants were just a tich uncomfortably snug.  And by a tich I mean, "for the love of cake, I can't wait to get these off!" and when I finally did get the blessed relief of de-pantsing myself at home, I noticed the seams in the butt were a little on the "pulled thin" side and were just about one big suck-in away from splitting wide open. It's a good thing I had stopped exercising by then, Reader. It's a good thing. 

All that pants tightness went at the same place as The Most Embarrassing Story in the History of Stories, of which still only a select few know about, and of which I am of the belief that I may have a Superbowl Peyton Manning Curse on me, so it's a good thing he's retiring. 

If you're wondering just how good this story could be,  it's so damn good I almost killed someone, that's how good. With laughter, Reader. And I thought you could only kill someone with kindness. To quote: 

"I laughed so hard, I was out of control, to the point that it was a little scary actually, In 

terms of breathing. I think it may be the funniest thing I ever heard."



So I'm officially saving that for Trixie Bang Bang: The Awkward Years (aka her whole entire life. so far.), my ebook which has a slim likelihood of ever becoming a reality because frankly I just can't seem to make the time for it,  and by the way that's just a made-up-right-now title, so keep your suggestions to yourself unless they are super-good, then send them over. But they had better be really good, Reader. Don't half-ass it for me. 

Whew. Okay. I got this one out right before midnight, so I have to wrap this up and hit publish or it will look like I didn't post. And I am, so suck it, Time Stamp.

*bikini-ready really comes down to drinking a lot while I'm in my bathing suit so I end up giving very little fucks what anyone thinks about things. 

Got Milk?

We had a baby today, Reader. By "we" I mean someone else's vagina and my heart.  The way it should be, because let's face facts, I've always been a sleeper. Sometimes after a hard day, looking at my bed can make me as happy as looking at this face.  Like in about 15 minutes. 

I have a rather small family, so any time another member is added is a good day.  Great-Auntie Trixie Bang Bang is excited to have you here, and only wishes she was where you are right now. I'd like to smooch that face, but alas he is out of state on an Air Force base. 

Instead I'm eating sopapilla cheesecake, hot out of the oven, and it's a bowl of cinnamony goodness.  

After our little boy was born I asked the Mama what else she still needed. So I ordered it on Amazon, because it'll be there in 2 days.  I was recounting the story that I had just bought Mama a "milker thing."  So yeah. A milker thing, said the Childless Aunt.

The milker thing was almost $300 for a decent one, which just felt wrong, but in the name of boobies and babies, I bought it. I mean, that's a plane ticket, which is much more fun to have than a milker, as long as it's going some place exciting and not to someplace where you'd be getting milked against your will, like maybe Tijuana. I image all sorts of bad things happening there, with donkeys and such. 

That's the Tuesday Night news. Welcome to the world, Little Fella. 

Crooked Boundaries Are Still Boundaries

It's not always me, Reader. It's usually me, but we can't just jump to that conclusion all the time. It would be impolite, and we are all about manners here. Right? Right. Now excuse me, I have to adjust my vagina. (see how polite that was? because l.a.d.y.) 

I started off February and really wanted to have words every day. But then some days just get away from me due to excessive napping a busy to do list. Superbowl Sunday was one of those days. So here we are a day behind again. 

I got up at the god-awful-early hour of 11 a.m. It was still MORNING, Judgy McJudgerPants. Made a very unfortunate breakfast, where nothing really lived up to the word "good" except the scrambled eggs, which were nice, but certainly didn't justify the ridiculous amount of dirty dishes that breakfast created.  

After all that wasted effort, I needed a nap. 

The cats agreed. They're good that way. 

So we laid back down, still in my new, warm and fuzzy pajammies and canoodled with mah kittehs for a few more hours.  Yes, HOURS. Because all the cooking made us tired. 

Then we had a Superbowl party to attend.

The stage was completely reset for a repeat performance of the Superbowl Party of 2014 at the same residence, in which Peyton Manning was also playing.

That was the Superbowl Party that shall forever go down in Bang Bang History as the Most Awkwardly Embarrassing Party Ever in the History of Parties. That is the official title of the Superbowl Party of 2014.  

A few very fortunate Readers have heard the story. And they beg for it again and again when we're sitting around campfires, making s'mores and telling tales. This is the one they all want to hear: Trixie's Most Awkwardly Embarrassing Party Ever in the History of Parties.

You'd probably like to hear it, too, huh Reader.  

Well, this is going to come as a shock to you - take a seat - but there are some stories that just haven't been shared here yet and are not teed up to do it anytime soon, either.  

Because see the top of this post (l.a.d.y.) 

When this story comes out it'll be something you need to pay for Reader. Trust me, it'll be worth your 99cents.  I mean, I might as well make $12 off this story, am-i-right?

Humiliation has to have some value. 

You've Got a Friend

I can't make this shit up, Reader.   Just when my original Nose Dot was a whisper of a shadow of it's former self, a new dot popped up to replace it.  Not in the exact same spot, it moved a little more towards the center so there's a better chance everyone will notice. It didn't want to accidentally be overlooked. 

Reader. For two weeks now I've been drinking kale smoothies or fruit smoothies with a whole ka-bam's worth of anti-oxidents, as well as added Juice Plus vitamins AND a dose of Jobees Bee Pollen for good measure.  With all that coursing through my system how could I possibly have any thing bad in my dermis that needs to rise to the top?? How?? 

I'm officially a middle-aged crazy with the skin of a pubescent teen. 



Lucky me. I curse you, Nose-Cancer Karma. 

Will cursing Karma actually net you more bad karma? Or will it cancel it out, like in math, where two negatives make a positive? 

I guess these are the things I should find out about Karma before I go around cursing it. 

Pretend It's Yesterday.

This is Walter. Walter WhiteEars.  

Big fluffy belly on Wally = Cute.
Big fluffy belly on Mama = Not Cute.

I've been doing suck-in's like crazy, Reader. 

This working out is hard stuff.

I sucked it in when I was eating tiramisu last night with my friendie late into the evening.  A fitness freak like myself never stops, ya know. 



So that was last night. Now you know.