Mine. Mine. Mine.

Amazing what you can accomplish when you, uh, get up off the couch. Yep, that's all it took to have a Sense of Accomplishment on a mundane Monday night, but lemme tell you, getting off the couch isn't as easy as it sounds. I was in a deep and satisfied snore around 7:20 p.m.

But I got off the couch. Took a while, I had to rest, napping through some Everybody Loves Raymond reruns, but I finally convinced myself to go to the gym. I had a pretty good workout, the first in a long time (Saturday excluded), ran my ass off (not all of it, there's still plenty there) on the Elliptical machine. Kenny and the guys were up at Parma Tavern, having beers and watching something I don't even understand, Arena Football, whatever the hell that is. They wanted me to come up after the workout, but I was a hot mess and declined the invite. I needed some alone time anyway. Got back home and it we still had the shadows of daylight, so I planted some flowers in the front bed, they'd been sitting there unplanted for about two weeks. It's been too Dark and Stormy to plant, but I threw them into the very wet earth and called it a job, done. Not perfect, but done.

I had a lot of earth stuck to my Nike Shox, perhaps I should have changed shoes before digging around in $90 sneakers. But it was a strike-while-the-iron-is-hot moment. Came in, went directly to the basement (after killing a spider, sorry fella, you're not welcome in the house), did a load of laundry, came upstairs, cleaned shoes, washed a few dishes, vacuumed and took a nice shower. Ah, a full evening. A productive evening. Capped off a productive day at the office. Yes, I made full use of my nine hours at the card mines. Wrote a presentation, attended meetings, Contributed, for God's sake. Whew.

So that's that.

Morning Girl vs. Evening Girl

Friday night I (aka, Evening Girl) made a grand announcement that I was going to be Early Riser Morning Girl, getting up at 8:00 a.m., running errands and getting my Sophie obligations taken care of before noon. Kenny laughed in my face and said there's no way I'd be outta bed before 10 a.m., and probably not until 11. Well, we'll see about that, Sir!

He doomed me for failure. We took in a late-night showing of Wall*E, after a long day at the office, after-work shopping and dinner-cooking, I was exhausted by the time we made it to the theater. But I went. I am in the minority of those who didn't like it. I'm not a good judge of it, though, I'm just not a cartoon lover. Not for me, no thank you. Until this weekend, I hadn't even seen Nemo, not to mention Ratatouille - and I don't feel like I'm missing out one bit. So I didn't like it, couldn't wait for it to end, would have walked out had I been to the movie alone. But I stuck it out with mild complaints. Got home late, too late to be thinking about an 8 a.m. rising and shining time.

Not only did I not get up at 8, I had to force myself to get up at 11:00!! I postponed Sophie, will deliver her goods to her this Friday while I have the day off, and get in a holiday visit at the same time. Saturday I did go to the gym, after all I was quite refreshed, but that was the extent of the strenuous activities. We took in another movie Saturday evening, to compensate for the crap I sat through on Friday, and saw Wanted with Angelina Jolie. Super fun, exciting movie about assassins and bullets that could bend to smash into the target. Much more entertaining stuff, not some crazy robot love. Then, we watched Nemo. Just to see if I really was a cartoon a-hole, or if it was that particular movie. I liked Nemo, it was cute, and I wanted to release my blue fish to the wilds, only I think he would die in Lake Erie and is probably much more content in a bowl on the television. But now I feel bad about it and look at him a little forlornly. What if he has a papa out there looking for him somewhere? Sheesh. Stupid cartoons.

No wonder Morning Girl hates Evening Girl. Evening Girl is all big with the Big Morning Plans that her lazy ass didn't want to do, lays it all at the feet of Morning Girl, who really just wants to sleep. Then she feels like a failure when none of the big Evening Girl plans come to fruition. Morning Girl is not lazy, she's just misunderstood.

On that note, Evening Girl is taking her ass to bed, it's 11:30 already and Morning Girl would like to get a jump on the day tomorrow. Or at least feel somewhat refreshed when she drags out of bed.

More to come later, lots and lots more interesting stuff, including a shit-leaking toilet and a Big Check that was issued. I know, now your interest is piqued and you can't wait to hear more! Later, I promise. Pictures and everything. Peace.

Well, Hello There!

Greetings! This is gonna be short, don't even get up for a cuppa coffee. It's late, we had a very busy, fun-filled weekend, and no one really wants to hear any more about our trip to Vegas. For those who do, it is as follows:

Came.

Gambled.

Ate. At a few GREAT restaurants worth mention, Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill and again at Bally's Steakhouse where I enjoyed a $65 Kobe steak, and it was worth every comped dime.

Was propositioned in the hot tub/whirlpool thingie poolside at Paris. At least I'm pretty sure I was. Mind you, they have two whirlpool areas, in a secluded little nook past the pool, and nary another being was around so it seemed like a good time for a dip. I was enjoying my late-afternoon solitude until it was interrupted by some dude. He proceeded to tell me about a "threesome" massage he had the week before in California, blah blah blah. He's a realtor in Vegas, so if I am ever house hunting, or in need of a threesome, he gave me his business card so I can look him up. Sheesh. I wasn't even wearing my clip-on sex appeal (my super-sexy Jessica Simpson hair piece).

Five-hour delay going home. At least I had the foresight (for once) to have the concierge look up our flight status so we were able to hang out at our hotel rather than sitting around the airport. But our flight took on red-eye status and I ended up taking an extra vacation day on Tuesday that I wasn't planning. We got home late, 4:30 a.m., no way I'm good enough to drag in on three hours of sleep. Maybe when I was 39, but not now.

Oh, yeah, and there was the drunk thing in the prior post. Don't wanna forgot to mention that!

That's the trip in a nutshell. Typical Vegas, my home away from home. Going back mid-July, to see Garth Brooks. Can't wait! Oh, yeah, the picture was taken from our hotel room, we could see the Bellagio water show and it was quite pretty. Too bad I didn't think ahead and get a picture with that, it might have actually made the photo interesting....It actually turned out okay considering it's from my camera phone.

Time for 1-800-GAMBLER?

So what makes good sense after coming back from Vegas?? Well, let's go to Erie and gamble some more! Since it made such sound sense, that's exactly what we did on Sunday. Kenny had a mystery voucher he wanted to redeem, they were all winners, with a potential $10,000 jackpot prize (Kenny had a $2 winner). I threw mine out when it arrived a few weeks ago, assuming (apparently incorrectly) that there's no way in hell we'd be doing more gambling the same week we come home from a gambling trip. Silly, silly girl.

The place was PACKED. Seriously couldn't walk around. Don't even think about getting on the machines I enjoy playing. So I walked around for a while, found Kenny at his favorite machine and he told me to go sit at a machine behind him and play, which I did. And with $30 in the machine, I won this:

It was quite exciting, the biggest jackpot I've ever won ($1,600). Had the middle "Double Diamond" been a "Triple Diamond", my prize would have been $2,500. But trust me, I'm not complaining! My first gambling 1099 was issued!

Shortly thereafter, Kenny won $2,000 on the Wheel of Fortune. We were quite lucky, and came home with A LOT of money in our pockets. Which is why this is getting such a late post.

Why Didn't She Tell Me?

Saturday afternoon Kenny's mom Linda and I went to my aunt's house for a psycho...er, psychic reading. She just read tarot cards, so I was underimpressed. She didn't tell me she foresaw a jackpot in my near future. How could she not have seen that??

She did, however, tell Linda (Linda went first) that her son was with the girl he would marry, and to expect a surprise next March, and a baby outta him. I guess I've gotta nutpunch Kenny in advance for cheating on me in the future! She didn't tell me that she saw a baby, but she told me that the guy I'm with is my "soulmate," whatever that means. I said, "HIM??? REALLY???" Ha ha :) We're going to find a REAL psychic, Psychic Tim. We'll hear TRUE, GOOD THINGS then.

Oh, one thing she did say was that my card revealed "work turmoil" and many changes. She didn't get the death card with my job, so she said it wouldn't mean loss of a job for me, but some type of changes within the next year. Great. I actually like this job. Good thing I'm used to changes. I'd better bank my gambling winnings just in case.....

I've got more, oh so much more, great and interesting things to blab about, but must leave you with this, or I won't be functionable in the morning. As it is, it's going to be iffy. And I didn't even make time this weekend to read The Time Traveler's Wife. What's wrong with me?? It's so good, I need to MAKE time. Peace!

What Happens In Vegas

You Know You've Had Too Much To Drink When......

......you mistake a glass window for an open door. Ouch!

......you are too drunk to make it back to your hotel, so you stay in a back-up room at another hotel.

.......you think having sex in a bathtub is a good idea. Has anyone drowned from that yet, or would I have been the first??

.......the menu selection the following morning after consists of a packet of tums and regular coke. Of the cola variety.

.......you're told you were putting on quite a make-out session on a moving escalator, in the middle of the casino, which is surprising because you are rather afraid of escalators under normal circumstances. Apparently vodka loosens up any escalator inhibitions one may have.

.......everything hurts the next morning, and you only have snippets of memory as to why.

.......the first thought you have upon awakening is, "Oh my God, where's my purse?!!" And are relieved to discover it resting comfortably on an end table in a foreign room.

........you think paying $4.95 for a bottle of Aquafina is a good deal at three in the morning. Whatever it takes to cool the burning in your throat.

.......in spite of everything that happened, you're still not the one with the most drama that everyone is talking about!

.........you're happy to get back to work, where you can pretend to be a responsible adult and give your liver a rest.

A Quickie

Who's the genius now, I ask?? ME! I'll be enjoying fresh tomatoes on my sammich's this summer, regardless what happens down in Florida. Ha! I even noticed a little flower bud on the Early Girl when I went t o check on the extent of the storm destruction from yesterday. They were still holding firm. So there. I think it's gonna be a good growin' season. For me, at least.

I'm in my typical stressed-out pre-vacation mode. Have cleaned and scrubbed and carried and moved shit from one end of the house to the other, and a good deal to the tree lawn, it being trash-night and all. I still have to quickly mop the kitchen floor before calling it a night. All my good intentions, and I don't have one thing packed or any of the clothes put away. I'll have another fine night of that on Wednesday, it seems. That's okay, I'm going to just turn it into a clothes-hanging & packing party and drink lots of wine wearing nothing but a pair of panties. Make it really seem like an event. That's the plan, in case you are interested.

I have a long list of pre-vacation shit to accomplish tomorrow, in addition to the panties-only packing party.

1/ Get Spray-On Tan. Prior to spray on tan, come home and shower, exfoliate and shave every place that should be smooth. See, nothing's ever just EASY. It's always a giant fat project.

2/ Paint toenails & fingernails in new Sally Hansen fun summer shade of pink. I have been postponing this task because I painted my toes in a Sally Hansen bronze color and it's nearly impossible to remove. It's going to require a lot of work to get this off. Maybe I'll start on that tonight, it might be a 2-day project. Stupid toe nail polish.

3/Consider coloring the roots of my hair. I cancelled my appointment which was scheduled for this past Monday, I am really just sick and tired of paying $150 for hair every 5 weeks. It's goddamn ridiculous. So I have a new approach, to try and touch up the roots at least every other time with the $5 kit from Loreal. Hey, if it's good enough for Heather Locklear....I may not want to mess with this before a fun vacation. It could all go bad on me, if history is any indication. I could always just wear my cowboy hat. See, lots of decisions!

Okay, this blogging isn't getting my floor mopped. At least it never has in the past, this would be a first if it actually did get my floor mopped. Kenny cleaned out the dining room area while I was at work today, he must have made 25 trips to the basement, he hauled out everything except his keyboard and the exercise bike. It's HUGE CLEAN in there. I sat and stared at it when I first came home, enjoying the sparseness of it all. He mentioned going to buy a table, but I just want to enjoy the empty space for a while. It's beautiful.

Peace, and have a Mellow Yellow.

The Smell of Summer

Got the little garden in over the weekend. It's super-small this year, had debated not planting anything at all, but finally succumbed to the lure of homegrown tomatoes and green peppers. If all goes according to plan, I can make stuffed green peppers with my own Big Bertha peppers and homemade tomato sauce. That is, if the garden produces a little better than it did last year. Can five plants even be called a garden??

The 88 year old neighbor next door, Stanley, even helped me plant them. He actually just took over for me, showed me how the tomatoes needed to be planted deeply and helped me get the right mix of peat moss and organic fertilizer. He also pointed out the weeds that were choking out the peony plant; Timmy and I thought the whole thing was part of the flower, but that wasn't the case. So I got that weeded out, and figured, "Why stop there?" and weeded the backyard by the back porch. It's looking pretty good around here, if I do say so myself. Mostly thanks to Timmy, he has tackled the front yard with vigor this year. So anyway, Stanley, who is normally the grouchy crotchety old man next door, is going to water my plants for me while we're in Vegas. Maybe he's not so grouchy after all. Maybe.

I finally got the porch ready for summer, scrubbed 'er down and got the furniture out there. The cats and I had a porch party, they were very excited to go outside and see what all the fuss was about. They sniffed and walked and laid on everything. They each took a turn trying out the various chairs, which you are privileged to see the photos of below. Just be thankful I don't have a baby - the photos of the cuteness would be nonstop!

Caesar tries out the chaise while Girlie picks a spot on the floor and Stanley contemplates jumping onto the chaise himself:

Girlie tries out the white wicker chair, fit for a princess such as she:

Twinkie gives the white chair a through sniffing:

The Boys try out the rocking chairs:

For a little nighttime ambiance this year, I strung some porch lights around the rail. They look super-cute and inviting at night!

So that's the porch. Widda was out there, too, but she got spooked really quickly, before I was able to even get a picture of her enjoying the porch. Twinkle and I sat out there and read for a while on Sunday. We love our little porch get-away. I'm holding off on buying any live plants until we're back from Vegas.

Well, I won't add much to this, I'm sure my faithful reader has lost interest by now. Truely, it wasn't much more interesting than this.

Sunday afternoon I joined Katie and her friend for a play at the Cleveland Public Theater on Detroit & W. 65th. It was a One Act thing, an hour long, primarily a monologue about a middle-aged woman seeking to find herself. Something like that. There was a second play after, but I bailed out at intermission, the joint was NOT airconditioned and it was 93 degrees. Nary a fan in the place, either. But they were giving away complimentary water. Imagine that.

Driving through that Ohio City neighborhood, I realized one very important thing: I DO NOT BELONG THERE. It is definately an uncomfortable neighborhood for me. I don't care, call it up-&-coming, whatever. It's just white trashy and neglected. I saw a group of people pouring out of a house, on their way to a beach or something. I assume, anyway, as there was a stringy-looking alabaster-white girl with a limp bleached blond ponytail wearing an ill-fitting bikini top and some low-hanging yellow shorts which showcased her duel-gun tattoos, one on each hip. They started high on her hipbones, with the muzzels pointed to her crotch. Why?? What does that even symbolize? Well, it had me looking twice so perhaps Mission Accomplished. On the way out of the theater an older, shirtless black dude with dreadlocks wanted me to stop and, "Just listen to me here for a while." Um, no. My mother taught me not to talk to strangers. Sorry. I was happy to get back to my not-so-bad little Parma neighborhood. At least I know the hillbillies I've got.

Ken and I got my pre-trip house shit underway, and got the desk moved out of the living room and into the basement. Still a lot more to do, but it's going. Just my typical stress-before-vacation mode, nothing new here, folks. I'm VERY excited about Vegas this time, maybe because it's been six months since we were there last. The hotel limo is going to pick us up from the airport, we'll have our names held on a little sign by the driver when we land, just like celebrities. Kenny thinks it's queer, but I'm excited about it. And it's "free" with his Diamond player status - ah, the perks.

Okay, I'm off to bed. Kenny picked up some smoked kielbasa from State Meats just down the street and we've both been farting up a storm all night. I don't know which end of us is worse, our bad garlicky breath or our rancid asses. At least we're in it together! I am definately a delicate little flower - is it really any wonder I didn't stay single for very long at all? Booh-Yah!

Peace, and keep your cool in this hot hot weather.

Pre-Vegas Weekend

Bright-light city gonna set my soul, gonna set my soul on fire!

Yep, it's that time again - VEGAS this coming week! How fun for us - I never get tired of that place. Yea for us, and all our friends who will be travelling with us. We've got eleven of us so far heading out there. That's quite a big, fun group and the perfect time for Kenny to finally win the MegaBucks - with all our friends already out there to share in the celebration! That's sure a lofty dream I have there.

Other than getting ready for our trip, it's shaping up to be an uneventful weekend so far. We've got shitty house shit on the agenda to take care of this weekend. I can't seem to find my clothes, so that's a No. 1 priority today, need 'em for vacation. My summer clothes, that is - I had 'em on our April cruise, don't know what happened to them since. Maybe I put them away in the storage container under the bed. Maybe. I threw a stompin'-ass fit about it the other day, it all - ALWAYS - circles back 'round to the lack of storage space we have here. If I had a big enough closet, I would be able to find my clothes. If I make it through this part of my life, I'm sure I'll come out the other side more tolerant and patient. I'm sure there's a lesson in here somewhere.

June moved in with authority, with record-highs yesterday. Thank God we ponied up the money for central air last year. By "we" I mean Kenny. We took non-unused air conditioner window units to Timmy's last night, that's quite a change since he normally likes it sweltering down there. I haven't even gotten the back porch cute-ed up yet, it was too cold in May to really think about it, and then super-duper hot overnight. No balance in Cleveland.

I'm at a cross-roads at the moment. Do I haul up, get ready and go to the gym, or just spend the day here "working out" moving and hauling stuff around? In theory, I could do both. It's still early, maybe I'll work on the porch til noon, then go to the gym once I'm feeling all motivated and partially accomplished. There, I just made a plan. I know you're excited.

Okay, that's it for now. There's only so much excitement that can be handled all at once. More thrilling excerpts of my life to be posted later. Pace yourself!

Suh-Prise!

It's Kenny's Birthday Month - HOORAY for Kenny! He's turning 40 on the 3rd. We kicked off Birthday Month with a surprise party for the Man of the Hour at Harpos Sports Bar in Brookpark, and it was a really nice turnout. In the spirit of things, I had an Indiana Jones cake crafted for him by my favorite bakery, Becker's. Another delicious confection. And I let two little boys take home the "toys" from the cake and they couldn't have been happier! They thought the cake was the BEST THING EVER. Kenny agrees.

Kenny says that no one gave away the surprise. He seemed to be a little shocked when he got there and saw everyone, he realized it wasn't a celebration party for Vera as we had duped him into believing. He promptly drank him some beer(s). Ah, 40.

Marge didn't disappoint, she came through with the Dirty Gift that every surprise party requires. A reminder, this is from his 88 year old grandmother, a boobie beer can holder:

I couldn't have found a better family to fit in with!

Pete & Kenny canoodled. Well, not really, but if this were Hollywood, that would be the story that got told.

It was a really nice turnout. Linda brought some really fun balloon decorations, which are now sitting in our dining room, which I'm sure will be chewed up and spit up by the cats at some point during the night. Can't wait for the ribbon-laced puke - it's almost like a puke present!!! It's a-comin', it's a given and not a maybe. We all get to enjoy the balloons in our own way.

Everyone needs a surprise party at some point in their life. Now Kenny's had his, and I get to check off "Throw a Surprise Party" from my While I'm still 98.6 Degrees list. I also had one for my mother many, many years ago, so this makes two for me. I can consider that a job, done.

Needless to say, I'm exhausted with all the hype of the weekend and I'd like to just wind down, but I have a PILE of laundry on the bed that needs to be put away before I can even think about anything as indulgent as laying down and reading a book. So here I sit, blogging instead - my typical procrastination effort. But I also find it relaxing so it's doing it's job of winding me down a little. That, and the margaritas have kicked in a bit. On to other things that require me to get off the computer and up outta the chair. I'd like to get to bed before midnight today. Which, by the way, reminds me that I slept in both days this weekend until 10 a.m. and have deemed 10 a.m. the PERFECT hour for rising and shining. At 10 a.m., I actually do feel like shining a bit, it's just such a nice, refreshing hour for awakening. Seven o'clock, not as much.

Peace, and love the ones you're with.

Bric-a-Brac

On Friday I was surprised and dismayed to realize that I have not, in fact, read the entire series of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. I would have SWORN I had read all of them, but standing in the adolescent book section at Target, none of it seemed familiar to me at all. So I bought it. How this one got by me remains a mystery. I guess I'm not as "hip" to things as I had imagined. As if reading adolescent books makes me "hip." Whatev. I remember distinctly the first time I discovered the Magic of the Pants. My exhusband made some comment along the lines of, "Well, I see you're reading to your level." "Hey, at least I READ you fat illiterate fucker," was my response - something along those lines. I think that was about the time he was buried in that old pussy he was fucking, so hey, at least I was aging DOWN if you really want to debate it. Whew, I've gotten slightly off track here. The right track is, I now have another book on my To Read list and I am excited about it. I really think I've read it, but maybe with age my memory is just so bad I don't remember it at all. Always a possibility.

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Sexy Times



It was an extra-special exciting weekend with the release of the much-anticipated and long-awaited Sex & The City movie! It exceeded my expectations, it was long and good and poignant and happy, all rolled up into 2 1/2 hours. I couldn't care less what the critics have to say about it - if you've developed a relationship with the Girls, you had to love the movie. Maybe I am just more forgiving, because I like them so much, but I didn't see one thing wrong with the movie at all. I had such a busy weekend planned, I had a hard time squeezing in the show, but I managed and even made time to guzzle down two cosmos before I bounced off to my next activity o' the day. Saturday was a good day.

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Some Kind of Kid Event



Saturday night we had tickets to see New Kids in the Hall, a skitch comedy group that was popular in the 80's *& 90's. I wasn't familiar with them at all, and had 'em confused with New Kids on the Block, thinking we were going to see a concert or something. It was really funny and made for a fun Saturday night. They did a montage that proved Jesus was gay: He was followed around by 12 burly men, they drank lots of wine and washed each other's feet. Point and Match.

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Jesus Board Updates



So the Jesus Board at the the Church on State Road has me head-scratching once again. It never fails to disappoint me with the inane messages they post, which I'm sure they think, "Pure Genius!!" every time they come up with some of this shit. Here are a couple that have had me without words:

"If you want me to bless your nation, just ask" - God

" Jesus was dead for three days. How about you?" - God

Seriously, what the fuck do these messages even mean? Anyone? I'm going to start taking photos. Maybe that will be a new book idea, Idiotic Church Messages. People can send in submissions and I'll be rich, rich beyond my wildest dreams from an idea that has other people writing the book FOR me, ala Post Secret. Hey, put your pencils down, this is MY idea. Don't try and steal my stuff.

Alrightie, that's about all I have time for at the moment. We have a "thing" to get ready for, which I'll post more about later.

Peace and ask God to Bless Your Nation. Go ahead, ask already. He won't do it unless you ask.