Heard Around The House

I send My Mister a picture of my work To-Do list as he often muses on what can possibly keep me so busy at Tiny Town that it's not uncommon for me to have a lunch of instant oatmeal. At 4:30 in the afternoon. 

We have a meeting every Tuesday where the projects are doled out and prioritized. This weeks list had 28 items on it. That doesn't count the "normal" shit we do each week, this is 28 additional items to cram into the workweek. 

His response: "Holy Sheet!"
My reply: "It's Ridiculist." 

========================================

I had an extra early work morning on Wednesday as I had a vendor in from Chicago to go over VIS (very important shit) beginning at 8:30 a.m. 

The night before I lamented, "I have to go to bed! I have to get up at Zero Dark Early tomorrow!" 

========================================

Speaking to my Mister about the perks we're (not quite) getting on upcoming vacation, I told him it was because he was a V.O.P.

When he asked what that was, I replied, "Very Ordinary Person."


========================================

I have to pack tonight. It's now 10:20. Contrary to the claims on my resume, I'm not always a self-starter. 

Keep Sealed For Freshness

You know what no one ever says? 
"Boy, my ~insert anything here~ is really improving with age." 

My vision is getting bad. I officially need reading glasses, for my iPhone and computer if I'm not on Zoom In mode. 

People who boast that their anything gets better with age? Liars. 

I've thought long and hard about what I could say that's better, and the only thing that's better is stuff you can pay to make better - for instance, my hair is a little better, because I can afford better hair care. But other than that? It's all downhill. 

Eyes. Tits. Teeth. Stretchability. Quickness. Sleep. 

Yep. Even sleep betrays you as you get older. 21-year-olds don't have insomnia. They call that a perfectly good reason to stay out dancing. 

Do you have anything that got better with age, Reader? Share. I mean your own shit, not like "I have a better house" stuff. 

How Dry I Am

Holy Dryness, Batman! I don't know why it is that Every. Fucking. Winter. I'm SURPRISED at how dry it gets in the house. I mean, I'll begin to take note with a, "Boy, the cats are sparking when I pull them across the blanket" but I just sort of note it in passing and then my brain flits on to the next thing, like what Honey Boo Boo's up to. Then I notice my nipples are dry and chafed and I'm sporting a bloody snorkel-tube. And then there's the final clue when even a large caking of Blistex on my lips doesn't keep 'em moist, and I find myself dry-mouthed and gasping for water around 2 a.m. 

That night was last night. 

And I just painted a very sexy picture for you, huh? You're welcome. 

Now you know why My Mister finds me so irresistible. It's the slick lips and chafed nips. And I really lure him in as I'm digging blood boogers out of my nose all night long. BECAUSE I HAVE TO, READER, NOT BECAUSE I WANT TO. I enjoy BREATHING and they're blocking my passageway.  

My burny-burny nasal spray can't even get through. 

Tonight I said, "I guess I'd better go get the humidifier out of the basement." Because we own a solution to the problem, but are too lazy to go and get it until situations are dire around here, wherein "dire" equates to really sparky cats and cracked nipples and gasps for a cool cool drop of water in the middle of the night. 

It took all of three minutes to set it up. It's plugged in right now spewing blessed moisture into the air. 

Why, oh why must it come to all this before we take action? Am I passive/aggressive against myself, Reader?? 

I don't know, but I'm I'm excited to have a moist mouth tonight. 

Hi-do

Hey Peeps!! 

Just saying good morning. 

I miss you. You know who you are. 
Happy Birthday. I am pretty sure it's Birthday Month for you. You know who you are. 
Thanks for stopping by to say "hi" in comments. It was nice hearing from you. You know who you are. 

I'm light on words lately, because I've been napping...er, I mean doing very important things lately. 

It's still Trixie vs. House. Organizing and shoving shit in drawers, and cleaning and throwing out of other stuff. Some things never change. I'm expecting a few makeover photos sometime soon. 

That is all. This is lame. But I wanted to say, "Hi-do." That's how they'd sometimes greet each other on the Andy Griffith Show. I like "hi-do," it sounds so friendly. I heart Mayberry. My dream would be to live in that little town, but I'd want Andy as my boyfriend and not Barney or Goober. 

I'd probably end up with Goober.

Have a great week! Talk to you later. Well, a one-sided chat. I'll tell you more about me. 

Some Assembly Required

Another vacuum has met it's demise at Chez Bang Bang.   You may recall, this house kills vacuums. 

Today when I went to clean up around here, the vacuum just sort of pushed the cat hairs around into little balls and left weird track marks.  

It did not look attractive. At all.

The suction was not sucking. So we bought another one.  

Contemplated a Dyson, but I just could not pull the trigger on a four hundred dollar potentially dead in a year vacuum.

We eyed the $79 Hoover.  But then, as we were putting it in the cart, a little beauty caught my eye. 

Shark makes something very similar to the Dyson ball thingamajig, and it was a fraction of the price. Like, $119 fraction. So only slightly more than the Hoover, and it looked very cute. 

It's white and trim. 

Like me. 

Ahem.

We struggled to put the mofo together, and had the handle on backwards the first time. 

But we did it! Hooray!! 

And I vacuumed half of the hallway and had a full bagless container. 

Our cats are gross. 

It's nimble and lithe and sort of on the quiet side. It didn't even scare the cats too much. 

We are getting ready to go and disassemble the bedroom. 

We bought a new t.v. stand for the new 55" bedroom t.v.  

I don't have a lot of confidence in our abilities of putting it together, but we DID get the vacuum put together, in addition to my putting together a paper tray thing for the desk, which should have been a simple set-up but it was from Ikea and everything from Ikea comes with ridiculous complications.  

We're also hauling out carpet and doing a complete bedroom makeover. Nothing like getting started at 8:30 on a Sunday night. 

Better late than never.

Because He's Cute

And another cute cat picture:

How I'll Have a Happy New Year

I think it's time for a few resolutions. 

Looking back at 2012, I had some really big things that went on - some good, some not as good. 

When thinking of all the good, there is a recurring theme to each of the events: Friends. 

Good: 
Spending 5 glorious days in Mexico with my best childhood girlfriend. We don't see each other that often, we try to get together a few times a year, but this trip just sort of happened. It was perfect and I loved it. 

Taking my yearly week-long cruise with my adulthood girlfriend. J & I always have a good time on our trip. I'm a little worried we have nothing planned this year and I'm not sure how my new job is going to work out with that, but I'm sure it will. 

An impromptu Thanksgiving dinner with non-family. Where I discovered the best wine, Tomey,  and had a really great day giving thanks with friends. 

A girl's weekend getaway to the shore with cousins and close family friends. 

Also worth mention are just the everyday times spent chatting or visiting with friends.  That was the best parts about 2012, and are the stand-out times looking back. 

So that leads me to a resolution for 2013: Do more of what made me happy in 2012, and that was spending time with friends and family. I'd better get started on making some plans. 


Not-so-good:
New job. While it's not a bad job, the hours are making me unhappy. I've adjusted to the drive. But I spend far far too many hours at my desk in Tiny Town. 

I kept thinking it would all smooth out, but I'm not sure it will. So I need to make adjustments so I'm happier. 

For this new year, I'm giving myself a quitting time of 6:00.  That's still an hour longer than my prescribed office hours, but I'll concede to 6:00. If I get out more days than not by 6:00, I'll be happier in the long run. Even with this in mind, I was still there til 7:00 on Thursday. But 2 days, I got out by 6 and enjoyed my evening much more. 

I also got a Fitbit thingamajig for Christmas (which I wanted) to track how much I move around. Because I was fairly certain I'm at slug level, since I sit so much tethered to my chain and computer at Tiny Town. So I've also made it a goal to get up and walk every hour there. The long way to the restroom, a stop at the cafeteria for a water refill.  It seems to help me enjoy the day a little more.

Oh, if you're curious, yes I am officially moving at a slug's pace during the day. If I crack 2,000 steps it's a busy day. I don't know that I'll ever achieve a 10,000 step day, that seems ridiculous considering my patterns, but I've actually made it to 4,000 steps since I've made it a goal to move away from my desk more. 

So those are the two big things that I will focus on, and then some smaller goals that I've written down in my newly purchased calendar.  I've got the usual resolution suspects: organize the house, organize my life, do dishes before they pile up and look like a hoarders den, save more money. But that's just the same shit everyone says, so these other two are my main focus for 2013. Friends and making time for a homelife. 

Those 2 things will make my 2013 happy.

Scurries Up & Scurries Down

A group of us got together  a couple of weekends ago and rented a limo for a pre-Christmas evening of drinking and drinking. 

The sole express purpose was to stop at a variety of bars and drink. 

My Mister was a little surprised when I ended up snockered by midnight. 

One of the places we stopped at was supposed to have a fun band, Disco Inferno. Instead, they had a Latin band, which brought out my inner Latina. And my drunken proclamations that I needed to take on a Latin Lover  at some point in my life.  Which really sounds quite exotic, even in the sober light of day. 

There was so much tight bright clothes and big hair and lower-body rhythm in that room. Oh, how I wanted to blend in and Salsa and Rumba and all those fun little dances. I had my toes a-tappin', and an old Senor tapped me for a dance as soon as the band started up.

What I think I look like on the dance floor:

The reality is more like this:

El Senor told me I needed to relax and let him lead, and I just wasn't able to do that. I'm used to having to set the pace and rhythm. I couldn't just let it happen. 

He dumped me half way into the first dance.  Told me, "Maybe you come back, next time Senorita, after a little more practice."

It's a good thing my Polish Boy doesn't mind my moves. 

Resolution Worth Keeping

My resolutions are not well-thought out. I just don't even really know, and I'm sure you couldn't care less about my resolutions anyway. 

The best resolutions I've ever made were to swear as much as possible and eat chocolate every day. I was very successful that year. 

The worst resolution I've ever made was to have sex every day. By February I was sick of seeing My Mister's wiener. Get that thing away from me already.

Too much of a good thing. Too bad it didn't work like that for chocolate. 

I would have probably lost 20 lbs. that year. 

I've just made a resolution that I may have no trouble keeping. Take a picture of my cute cute kitty every day. 365 Pictures of DJ. Starting now.  Kitty Purry's also in the shot, so bonus. 

I probably won't post them all. You're welcome. 

Except to a Facebook Album which I shall create now and title  ZOB: The Year of the Cat.  

I'm pretty sure that's part of the Chinese calendar. 

You're welcome to friend the eff outta me on there and follow along.  That could be YOUR resolution. One you hate. But it's easier than eating more salad or something like that. 

I pretty much accept any friend request. Except for co-workers. Because I don't like to have a constant vigilance regarding vagina talks or talks of Tiny Town. But Facebook is pretty much for cat pictures and nonsense. Like this blog, only with less vagina, because my nephews are on there and I do have some standards, Reader.

They're low standards, but they are standards none-the-less. 

So there you have it. My New Year Resolution. 

Happy ZOB!

Happy New Year, Reader!

I made a cake to help usher it in with the family.

My Mister's mother wanted to know who/what  "ZOB" was. 

It's going to be a good year.  How could The Year of ZOB be anything but?